Eavesdropping At The Movies

A Quiet Place Part II picks up moments after its 2018 predecessor ends, its characters desperate for refuge from the terrifying predators hunting them. Seeking survivors, they encounter a family friend, now a recluse, having lost his wife and children. Emboldened by her discovery of a way to combat the aliens, the family's deaf daughter makes a beeline for a radio station she believes can help, and what was a home invasion horror becomes an action adventure. While accommodating this alteration in tone, A Quiet Place Part II offers, as sequels tend to do, more of what made the first film so successful, and it's terrifically entertaining cinema - but a diminished experience, compared to its predecessor, in almost every way. We consider the film's view of society, the uncritical whiteness in its casting and its inability to imagine ways of living that don't involve the nuclear family unit; and the lack of threat we feel, despite its functional and well-orchestrated set-pieces - we simply never feel like these c

Disney's latest update of its back catalogue sees Emma Stone bring punk rock to Sixties London in Cruella, a beautiful, stylish, but clunky affair. Like Maleficent before it, Cruella offers an origin story to a key Disney villain: Estella, as she's named when we meet her, takes a circuitous route to her destiny as a star fashion designer, grifting with friends to make ends meet, and waging war on the leading fashionista of the day, Baroness von Hellman - played by a fabulously wicked Emma Thompson. Oh, and there are some Dalmatians involved. We discuss the quality and intentions of Cruella's characterisation and Stone's performance, the conspicuously expensive soundtrack, the use of CGI animals, whether the film is as queer as some of the hype has suggested, the role of men and masculinity, and why it is that fashion movies are one of very few areas in cinema where women get to play fun villains like the Baroness. Cruella is an imperfect film, less than the sum of its parts - but at their best, those parts a

Billy Wilder directs this adaptation of Agatha Christie's Witness for the Prosecution, a courtroom drama concerning a man on trial for the murder of an old woman - did he do it? What's up with his wife? Will his lawyer's nurse catch him smoking? As with Christie's stageplay, The Mousetrap, upon the film's conclusion, the audience is kindly asked to refrain from revealing its twists and revelations, but we at Eavesdropping at the Movies respect no such requests. Spoilers within. Charles Laughton is pleasingly hammy, Marlene Dietrich composed, and Tyrone Power a loud, sweaty, stressed out mess - and somehow mostly in the background, despite his central role as the accused murderer. We discuss their performances and characters, the pleasures and methods of Agatha Christie's mysteries, and Wilder's direction, which hopes, in that classic Hollywood style, to render technique invisible. Witness for the Prosecution is an engrossing mystery filled with interesting bits of business that enrich its characters, and a c

Cinema is back! And to celebrate, we see the new spin-off of the Saw series, Spiral, which... is not a good film. But it gives us much to think on, especially the surprisingly big names of its cast, which includes Chris Rock, Samuel L. Jackson, and Max Minghella. Slasher series don't traditionally accommodate stars, but, beyond the fact that they're typically too expensive, Spiral offers a warning against their presence: the screentime they require pulls too much attention away from the thrills, the reason we're really there. The deaths we're accustomed to enjoying in Saw films just aren't given to us in sufficient excess or quantity in Spiral; Chris Rock's protagonist, a detective hunting a Jigsaw copycat, dominates the story. As if catching the murderer is more exciting than watching him work. Honestly. Despite our disappointment in the film, we enjoy our return to the cinema after nine months away, José finding a new appreciation for the meditative quality of submitting himself to a movie he can't pause i

We explore René Clair's adaptation of Agatha Christie's novel of - in the US - the same name, And Then There Were None. In terms of quality, it's nothing to write home about, sadly, but is interesting nonetheless. Recorded on 13th May 2021.

We explore Dario Argento's Suspiria, his 1977 horror classic, and its loose remake by Luca Guadagnino, from 2018. We've never seen either, although Argento's film casts a long shadow - those who've seen it never forget it, and it's easy to see why. Its visual design is bold, imaginative and beautiful, the images it creates extraordinary, its violence heightened and wild. José loves it, literally wowed by it, captivated by its cinematic flair and interesting casting. But, Mike argues, it's a film that offers nothing beyond the aesthetic, uninterested in its own characters or story, which leaves him cold. Our responses to Guadagnino's remake are reversed entirely. For Mike, it's superior: ambitious, keen to mine the threadbare original for thematic depth, and laudably attempting to weave together generational guilt, dance, institutional corruption and women's bodies into a complex tapestry, although one which requires too much audience participation to complete. José thinks he's giving a pretentious work of eg

Anthony Hopkins and Jonathan Pryce star as the previous and current Popes respectively, in The Two Popes, an imagined biopic that uses their personas and public profiles as jumping off points to explore a range of ideas. We discuss the success with which the film has been adapted from the original stage play, but the lack of visual artistry it nonetheless exhibits; the ways in which it uses - and ignores - the characters' histories and mistakes; the sincerity that underpins the entire film; and the rather cheap and simple, if entertaining, use of football to convey Pope Francis as a man of the people. Although we find all sorts of areas to pick at, The Two Popes is easy to recommend - witty, charming, brilliantly performed by Hopkins and Pryce, and keen to explore meaningful ideas with seriousness and solemnity, when the moment calls for it. Worth a look. Recorded on 2nd May 2021.

We're joined by returning guest Celia, on the phone from Canada, to discuss writer-director Emerald Fennell's unusual revenge thriller, Promising Young Woman. Following the rape and - implied - suicide of her friend Nina, which goes unpunished, Carey Mulligan's Cassie drops out of medical school, and now spends her nights feigning drunkenness, allowing men to pick her up and take her home, alarming them with her sobriety as they begin to sexually assault her. When a chance reunion with a former classmate reveals that Nina's rapist is engaged, Cassie embarks upon a campaign of vengeance against those she considers responsible for and involved in committing and allowing her friend's rape and its cover-up. Celia loves it, finding that it invokes and brings to life many subtle and important observations about life for women in the patriarchy, enjoying the various forms Cassie's revenge takes - particularly the "exercises in forced empathy", in her words - and feeling a call to arms; José decidedly doesn't, decry

Rita Hayworth and Glenn Ford star in Gild- sorry, Affair in Trinidad, Hayworth's first film upon her return to Hollywood after four years away, and a blatant rip-off of a certain classic film noir from 1946. (There's also a chunk of Notorious thrown in for good measure.) Expensively cobbled together at Columbia boss Harry Cohn's instruction, its production was rushed, with its script barely presentable and Vincent Sherman's direction lazy, but audiences weren't put off - it made $7m domestically, blockbuster box office in 1952. Now featured as part of Columbia Noir #2, a box-set from the same series that includes The Garment Jungle, we take the opportunity to see what Affair in Trinidad has to offer - for José, the answer is, "not much, besides Rita Hayworth, gorgeous gowns and rich cinematography" - and discuss more besides, including Hayworth's name and image, and how and why they were changed. Affair in Trinidad is far from a good film, but one of historical interest, and certainly worth seeing for any fa

A film that offers a beautiful evocation of community, as Riz Ahmed's drummer suddenly loses most of his hearing and joins a retreat for the deaf, Sound of Metal also feels regrettably, and unforgivably, dishonest in some of the ways it engineers its story. In this respect, we disagree over one of the film's key scenes, but agree about what it goes on to depict in the final act. Despite the severe problems we have with the film, it has pleasures to offer, including an outstanding central performance from Ahmed, whose wide-eyed, puppy-dog expressions transparently convey fear, anger, worry and determination, sometimes all at once. For Ahmed alone, it's worth seeing Sound of Metal. Recorded on 11th April 2021.

The fourth entry in Legendary's MonsterVerse, the first crossover in the series, sees a journey to the center of the Earth and Hong Kong made the playground of its titular colossi. In this cinematic universe seeking to challenge Marvel et al., Mike finds visual splendour and an ambition to reach for something a little more meaningful than your usual blockbusters. Indeed, the character of Godzilla, in particular, is well-known to derive from Japan's horrific experience as history's first and only target of nuclear warfare, and Mike argues that the MonsterVerse seeks to continue to use its creatures as giant metaphors that punch and breathe fire, unleashed by humanity's insatiable consumption and arrogant claim on the natural world. José isn't that impressed with this reading, but finds things to enjoy, particularly the beautiful imagery - though, he argues, while it demonstrates incredible skill and craft on the part of the artists who created it, art is precisely what it lacks. But luckily, although we butt h

At the Democratic National Convention in Chicago in 1968, riots erupted when thousands of anti-Vietnam War protestors clashed with police. Seeking to crush the energetic counterculture, the US government put on trial a group of eight defendants, some political organisers, some cultural radicals, some with hardly any influence, a pacifist, and a Black Panther, hoping to convict them for conspiracy to incite the riots. Aaron Sorkin's writing is a good fit for this story, the disparate group of defendants arguing amongst themselves sharply, and many scenes flowing beautifully towards their own internal climaxes; the same cannot be said of his direction, the film lacking much visual flair and instinct for expressive imagery. We revisit our common theme of British actors playing Americans, José finding more fault with it here than Mike does - we can, at least, agree that Sacha Baron Cohen's accent is atrocious, his Abbie Hoffman a weak point. Mike expounds upon how much he hates himself for how much he likes Sork

Anthony Hopkins is magnificent as The Father's title character, an old man losing his grip on reality to dementia, in debut director Florian Zeller's adaptation of his own stage play. We discuss the techniques the film uses to situate the audience within the mind of a dementia sufferer, and whether they lose their potency as the film develops. The Father's origins on stage are obvious in its sparse setting and focus on dialogue, and we suggest that the raw power of seeing the performances live, an immediacy, is lost here - though the cast, particularly Hopkins and Olivia Colman, are impressive nonetheless. Mike argues that the film somehow lacks enough plot to even fill its 97-minute duration, and would have worked better as a short film - José suggests that it ends up in cliché. Still, for a while at least, it's an extraordinarily effective dramatisation of what it might feel like to suffer from dementia, convinced of your own mental acuity while contradicted by everyone and everything around you. The Fathe

A gentle drama about Korean immigrants making a life for themselves in 1980s Arkansas, Minari's tone is consistently light, despite some of the upsetting events that occur. Mike argues that it reflects a child's perspective of life, protected by their parents from the worst of life, or simply not understanding the darkness in what they experience - writer-director Lee Isaac Chung based the film on his own upbringing on a farm in Arkansas. José identifies strongly with the story, commenting on the similarities and differences with his youth as a Spanish immigrant to Canada. Minari is a good-natured film with no room for cynicism, and, for José, a joyous experience to watch. Recorded on 28th March 2021.

In 2017, Justice League, DC's answer to Marvel's continuing Avengers crossovers, flopped. Director Zack Snyder had left the film several months before release, his role taken over by MCU regular Joss Whedon, and significant changes were made in an attempt to lighten the tone of what had so far been a rather bleak series. Immediately, talk erupted of a director's cut - the so-called Snyder Cut - that would represent Snyder's true vision, uncompromised by studio executives' fears and directives. Initially no more than a meme responding to that film's quality, it was given oxygen by Zack Snyder's insistence that it did actually exist, and it now reaches us via online streaming in the age of Covid-19. There's perhaps no other set of circumstances in which it would have been made real - on top of the original budget, the creation of this director's cut cost some additional $70m - but what an opportunity to compare and contrast two versions of the same film. At four hours in length, this is a version of Justice Le

Frances McDormand and a cast of non-professional, real-life nomads unite to explore the life of the modern American itinerant in Nomadland. We consider the line between fiction and reality, the non-professionals who appear bringing their real experiences and stories with them, and discuss what drives a person to their way of life. Like director Chloé Zhao's previous feature, The Rider, Nomadland is a textural, contemplative film, and perhaps one that grows in stature upon reflection - while José loved every moment, Mike was bored by the tempo, but finds much to praise nonetheless. A film worth taking the time to sink into. Recorded on 21st March 2021.

The story of a civil rights activist who deserved a biopic long before now, told from the perspective of the man who killed him. Fred Hampton chaired the Illinois chapter of the Black Panther Party, and using his oratorical skills and powers of persuasion formed the Rainbow Coalition, a political movement in which black, white and Puerto Rican organisations combined and worked together. Hampton was identified as a threat by the FBI and his death is considered an assassination under COINTELPRO, the FBI's illegal programme of disruption of domestic political organisations. He was killed in December 1969 at the age of 21. We ask whether it's a problem that Judas and the Black Messiah frames his story as part of his murderer, William O'Neal's. For José, the entire story is badly conceived, as Hampton should be the clear focus; for Mike, the problem is in the execution, with O'Neal underdeveloped - but it's possible that this informant thriller genre structure is what allowed the film to get made in the first pla

Ethics and truth in the land of documentary come under the microscope in our discussion of Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father. Filmmaker Kurt Kuenne's love letter to his childhood friend, Andrew Bagby, is a sensational and moving film that you should know as little as possible about before watching. It's exceptionally effective, built out of a combination of interviews, home footage, still photos and more, masterfully edited to generate emotional affect - but despite its qualities, there are real issues fundamental to its form. It's a hybrid of two types of film that find themselves in competition here: it's a documentary, a form about openness and truth; and a thriller, withholding information until it reshapes everything you've learned so far. It's a tension that may well be impossible to avoid - to resolve it might be to totally change Dear Zachary from the deeply personal, passionately made film it is. The story Dear Zachary tells is powerful, moving and utterly gripping, and the conversati

First-time writer-director Noah Hutton imagines, in Lapsis, a near-future gig economy dystopia that isn't that different from our own. Unable to pay for his brother's healthcare, Dean Imperial's Ray takes on contracting work for a Google-esque tech giant, hiking through forests laying cables. Imperial's performance is a standout, his Ray always sympathetic and legible, and Hutton's sketchy, piecemeal world-building suits the film - until it doesn't. Lapsis creates a recognisable milieu and has a leftist politics with which we broadly agree and are happy to see, but as its story develops it wants to evoke the feeling of doom one would expect of a revealed conspiracy, without the burden of having to bring together its disparate subplots and building blocks in order to explain anything. Despite our reservations, we enjoyed Lapsis and are glad to have seen it, and are keen to see what comes next for Noah Hutton and Dean Imperial. Recorded on 14th March 2021.

An expensive flop in its day, The Day of the Locust maintains a cult intrigue for its critique of Hollywood and descent into madness. It's new for both of us, and we discuss the qualities its cast brings, what could be better about its industry commentary, its moments of surprisingly graphic violence, and who, or what, its titular locusts are. Recorded on 28th February 2021.