Photographs by GREG WILLIAMS Words by JANE CROWTHER
Writer-director Gareth Evans tells Jane Crowther how Tom Hardy is ‘smashing up the screen’ in his tale of an American cop having a very bad night in Havoc.
‘When I was doing the Raid films, it was my love letter to the Hong Kong martial arts genre through the lens of Silat, the Indonesian martial art,’ writer-director Gareth Evans tells Hollywood Authentic when recalling his calling card visceral breakout action movies. The Raid wowed at TIFF in 2011 and knocked audiences’ socks off with the inventive, kinetic and claustrophobic action contained in a single tower block. Evans went on to create 2014’s sequel and the bruising TV show, Gangs of London. His latest film shows a DNA thread through those projects but is an evolution. ‘Havoc is more like my love letter to Hong Kong artists in the manner of John Woo and Ringo Lam. It’s a lot more about gunplay, the stylisation and percussive elements of the action design and that heroic bloodshed genre that existed in the late ’80s and early ’90s in Hong Kong cinema, where it’s always rain-swept and neon lights and city life. And then in the middle of that, you have Tom Hardy just smashing up the screen…’
Hardy and he had been ‘circling each other’ hoping to work together when Evans sent the jiu-jitsu and boxing enthusiast actor the script, which tracks a detective, Walker, as he discovers crime and corruption, attempts to rescue a hostage and deals with attacks in numerous inventive scenarios. ‘That led to a series of really super-interesting, fascinating, educating FaceTime phone calls with Tom,’ Evans says of the actor, who also produced the movie. ‘From Tom’s perspective, it was about learning everything about Walker so that he could fully embody him as a character. That was a huge learning experience for me because suddenly I was being asked all these questions that maybe I hadn’t asked of this character. We did that intense breakdown of the character, what is it that kind of gets under the hood of this character? And then he went off to the gym and got himself in prime physical condition. As someone who doesn’t frequent the gym that often, I would just be exhausted seeing the effort that he would go through to get himself ready for the film.’ When Hardy turned up to filming in Wales, where Greg Williams shot these pictures, ‘it was like he was cut out of rock – he was full-on battle-ready’.
Hardy’s physicality and fighting know-how evolved the action designs that Evans conceived with his stunt coordinator, Jude Poyer, escalating the brutality of the scenarios as Walker is pushed to the limit. Evans has two favourite sequences of his latest physical carnage; one taking place in a nightclub with a glass floor – allowing for inventive, immersive camera angles – and one in a fishing shack complete with harpoons and hooks; ‘lots of sharp things and blunt instruments’. The nightclub scene is ‘this breakneck, fast, high-octane set-piece that just goes from floor to floor, and then spills out into the streets. It’s this breathless sequence to pulsating music that I’m really excited for audiences to get a chance to watch.’
The Raid had a sequel, so does Evans think he’s left enough room for a revisit to this new world? ‘Who knows?’ he laughs. ‘I’ve always planned it as a one-and-done as a movie, but there is definitely space there if there was enough demand.’ For now, he promises Hardy in what he calls ‘beast mode’. ‘Tom is in his absolute element. I think he really enjoyed rag-dolling people around the room!’
Photographs by GREG WILLIAMS Words by JANE CROWTHER Havocis streaming on Netflix now
Was anyone asking for a sequel to Ben Affleck’s neurodivergent actioner from 2016 in which a money man with Autism kicks serious ass as a besuited assassin? Possibly not, but here we are nearly a decade later, returning to Christian Wolff (Affleck) as he lays low in a gulfstream trailer with priceless artwork on the wall in Boise, and now there’s not one socially awkward killer gunning his way through a criminal underworld, but two. This time the number in the title not only refers to sequel status but the return of Wolff’s hit man brother, Braxton, in the shape of Corgi-loving, lollipop-sucking bull-in-a-china-shop Jon Bernthal. Double trouble and twice the fun.
Courtesy Amazon MGM Studios
Laying out the set-up with a stylishly executed shoot-up in a bingo hall involving J. K. Simmons, The Accountant 2 introduces a mysterious hit woman (Daniella Pineda) who is connected to the trafficking of undocumented immigrant workers into the US. The death of an innocent pulls a treasury department agent, Marybeth Medina (Cynthia Addai-Robinson) into proceedings and she tracks Wolff down via his nonverbal tech-whiz handler (Allison Robertston) to help her unravel the mystery. Why Chris decides to take the case is as confusing as why Marybeth can move house and spend most days away from her desk job in service to an off-books gig, but the logistics matter little. It’s merely the route to getting Bernthal and Affleck together to bicker, go line-dancing together and cover each other during massive gun/knife fights.
This is where the film comes into its own as both brothers express hurt and bewilderment at their estrangement, unpick their childhood trauma, figure out if they’re cat or dog people and ultimately show up for each other – whether that’s at an LA hoedown or a Mexican bad-guy compound in Juarez. Affleck and Bernthal can do this stuff in their sleep and their needling of each other adds welcome levity to proceedings, while both actors’ flex their action credentials in a dusty finale that nods to spaghetti westerns. Yes, it’s blunt and daft but it’s more fun than taxes…
Words by JANE CROWTHER Photographs by ELI ADÉ/WARNER BROS. ENTERTAINMENT INC. The Accountant 2 is out now
When twins Smoke and Stack (both played by Michael B. Jordan via unobtrusive CGI sleight of hand) return to their Mississippi home after fighting in WW1 and then brawling in Chicago, they’ve seen some things. Having made some cash by disreputable means in the north, the brothers are gold-toothed, tailored and handy with guns and knives – and set on opening their own juke joint in their old neighbourhood. They may pop a bullet in a would-be thief’s ass without a care, operate as a slick unit and move through the world with a cocky stride (unless they’re talking to the women they left behind), but they’re about to be shaken by ungodly sights on opening night…
Eli Adé/Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
Rooted in the myth of a blues player paying for their talent via a deal with the devil (it’s set in Clarksville, the location for Robert Johnson’s crossroads), Ryan Coogler’s seductive, steamy take on From Dusk Til Dawn may not serve up a new scenario – one night in a bar beset by vampires – but it does provide a multi-layered, evocative and stylish night out on the sauce. In Coogler’s hands, a war for souls in a Jim Crow world has much to say about race, poverty, warfare, grief, colonisation and music, and the fact that though set in prohibition America, certain things remain depressingly the same as they ever were.
The bigger socio-political picture is wrapped in a compellingly small human story that unfolds as the brothers enlist a gang to open their club in an old sawmill. Their cousin Sammie (Miles Canton) may be a preacher’s boy but he plays the blues like Satan himself and will lose his innocence before the sun rises. Voodoo priestess Annie (Wunmi Mosaku) is brought in as chef and provides spiritual leadership as well as finger-lickin’ catfish. Drunk musician Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo) is co-opted as an act but has seen it all before; Chinese storekeepers Bo and Grace (Yao and Li Jun Li) bring the equipment and a marital quandary, while Stack’s ex Mary (Hailey Steinfeld) and a sunburnt stranger (Jack O’Connell) are white visitors who mess with the vibe in different ways.
Eli Adé/Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.Eli Adé/Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
Gorgeously costumed (Ruth E. Carter), lensed (filmed in IMAX with a thank you note to Christopher Nolan in the end credits) and production designed (Hannah Beachler); Sinners may be peopled by intriguing characters but its music is also one. Ludwig Göransson’s lush score is sultry, soulful and needs to be heard in the surround sound of a cinema, not waited for at home. It provides a standout sequence at the midpoint when the beer is flowing and the blues are slapping, when music connects past, present and future and – for the duration of a song – everything seems right with the world. It’s exactly the sort of poetic, pertinent and ballsy moment we’ve come to expect from Coogler and connects deliciously to a cheeky mid-credit and post-credit sting. Bloody good stuff.
Eli Adé/Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
Words by JANE CROWTHER Photographs by ELI ADÉ/WARNER BROS. ENTERTAINMENT INC. Sinners is in cinemas now
Photographs & Interview by GREG WILLIAMS As told to JANE CROWTHER
Greg Williams joins British actor-producer-director David Oyelowo at his LA barber shop to talk creating opportunity and the pursuit of excellence.
‘Getting into character, the look of the character, the physical presence of the character, is something that I tend to focus on,’ David Oyelowo tells me when I meet him at a strip mall in Tarzana one morning in February. This unassuming location off Ventura Boulevard is a place for transformation for the multi-faceted actor who has played Martin Luther King Jr. in Selma, a pharma-villain in Rise of the Planet of the Apes and the first African-American US Marshal in Lawmen: Bass Reeves. Today, Oyelowo is getting a haircut from his trusted barber, Gene. ‘He’s very detail orientated,’ Oyelowo says as we walk inside. ‘He gets me looking right.’
Sandwiched between a pilates studio and a dog groomers, the barber shop is a cosy space that Oyelowo has been coming to for a long time – Gene has been cutting his hair for 15 years. It’s one of his neighborhood spots in LA, now home since moving here in 2007 and becoming a US citizen in 2016. The valley is also the location for the filming of Government Cheese, his new ’60s-set dramedy show currently streaming on Apple TV+ in which he plays an ex-con who returns home to his family and causes chaos. He’s about to start a promotional campaign for the project and wants a sharp cut.
As Gene fires up the clippers, I ask Oyelowo about his relationship with excellence, given his prolific work output and his ability to plate-spin being an actor, producer and director. ‘A principle I live by is: the difference between good and great is hard work. I think that’s what excellence looks like. I’ve had to learn that there’s a difference between perfection and excellence. Perfection is debilitating. It’s unattainable. I think, actually, it ultimately leads to depression. The pursuit of excellence is something that is attainable because it’s basically doing your best, knowing you’ve done your best, and making peace with the fact that that’s as much as you can do. Failure doesn’t mean that you weren’t excellent. I used to actually take pride in being a perfectionist, especially with having kids, you’re trying to model behaviour that they will emulate. I recognise that them watching their dad pursue perfectionism is not a good example. But excellence absolutely is. That is what I now aspire to more than perfection.’
If you find good people, hold on to them for dear life
Oyelowo has certainly shown excellence in his work to date since learning his craft at the National Youth Theatre and LAMDA before making his name in BBC spy show, Spooks, in 2002. Since then he has impressed in a wide range of projects (and accents) including Lincoln, Jack Reacher, Interstellar, Silo, The Book of Clarence and most recently as Shakespeare’s Coriolanus in London’s West End. He’s been working professionally since 1995 and subscribes to the building up of a career with varied roles and experiences. ‘Young actors, or people who are aspiring to be actors, a lot of the time what they aspire to is instantaneous success, or having quite a high level of notoriety quickly. I actually think that’s a trap. What you actually want is a slow-burn career. You don’t want to have the highs be too high, and the lows be too low. But consistency is how you end up with a body of work that is admirable in its totality, as opposed to these moments that, in isolation, warrant attention, but then there’s this dearth in between. And the only way you get that is perseverance.’
As Gene carefully grades his hair, Oyelowo smiles in the mirror. ‘This is why I like having my haircut done by Gene. Every time I sit in this chair, I can tell that he is looking to do his best work. I genuinely am drawn to that. It’s one of the things that I enjoy as a producer, and whenever I’ve directed as well. It’s being around people who are brilliant at what they do. Actually, I got a great piece of advice. The feature film that I directed a little while ago, The Water Man, I called some directors who I really admire. One of them said something that really stood me in good stead, which is that your job is to hire the best people possible, communicate your vision very clearly, and then allow them to take flight. So excellent people – people who pursue greatness – is the way for you to look great as a director. And certainly I know from when I work with great directors, that’s very clearly the distinguishing factor. They surround themselves with people who are really excellent, and they model it in what they do as well.’
I ask him about working with an actor often cited for excellence, Daniel Day Lewis, who played President Lincoln to Oyelowo’s union soldier in the Spielberg film. ‘I personally think he’s the greatest living actor,’ he responds without hesitation. ‘The definition of not only an actor but a great actor is someone who is chameleonic; someone who genuinely transforms role to role; someone who clearly has studied humanity to a degree whereby they’re able to approach humanity from so many different angles and still be convincing in the roles they play. That, to me, is a master of the craft, and I can think of very few actors who take as many risks as he does, who pay a price as high as he does, and who are as successful in terms of the execution of their roles as he is. He, for me, is the gold standard. And then there’s working with Forest Whitaker on The Last King of Scotland, or a director like Christopher Nolan or Steven Spielberg or Anthony Minghella or Ava DuVernay, where you go, ‘Oh, there are levels to this thing.’ Tom Cruise is the same. These artists who you just go, ‘Oh, that’s why you’ve been doing it this long. That’s why there’s a connection between you and the audience that is not what you get everywhere.’ That gave me the blueprint, and maybe even the playbook for some of the more intense roles I’ve been afforded the opportunity to go on to play.’
Having played two historical figures in Martin Luther King Jr. and Bass Reeves, Oyelowo was hoping to add another to his resume with a long-gestating biopic of boxer Sugar Ray Robinson. ‘I think I have to make peace with the fact that I’ve probably aged out of playing Sugar Ray Robinson,’ he laughs. ‘But I still want to tell that story, and I think I’m going to still do it, probably as a producer, maybe as a director. Sugar Ray Robinson in his prime may be something that I let someone else do. But, honestly, that is something that I increasingly have enjoyed doing, keeping open the doors that have either been opened for me, or I’ve managed to get open, and making sure that others are allowed through. A big goal of mine is to leave the storytelling landscape different than I found it. A film about Dr King where he’s central had not been made before. A show that had Bass Reeves central had not been made before. Sugar Ray Robinson was the inspiration for Muhammad Ali. We should know more about him. That’s why I’m passionate about that story. And finding different ways to get these stories out there is the thing I’m ultimately very dedicated to.’
Oyelowo’s production company, Yoruba Saxon, looks for projects that shine a light on underrepresented stories. ‘We have a motto to normalise the marginalised. Our goal of normalising that is just an acknowledgment that filmmaking and television changes culture. It’s one of the most potent means of both advancing and regressing culture. And so I definitely want to be on the good side of that fence. Telling stories, for me, is a means of entertainment and education, but it’s also a political act for me.’
His move to LA from the UK was also something of a political act. Feeling limited by the opportunities available to him at home despite success with the RSC and Spooks, he turned his eyes towards America – moving himself and his wife to Hollywood. ‘It was patently obvious that the UK was not going to provide the opportunities I aspired to. Some of that is to do with race. Some of that is just to do with the size of the industry. But the two things compound each other. If it’s a smaller industry, and Black and brown people are not prioritised, then it’s an even smaller postage stamp to land on.’ Has that changed, I wonder? ‘Where I think it hasn’t changed much is I see that for Black actors in the UK, a path to a global career is still through playing roles that are not British. You still have to play American roles, or roles that are not tied to our culture in the UK, which I think is deeply unfortunate. John Boyega has to do Star Wars. Chiwetel Ejiofor has to do 12 Years a Slave. Idris Elba has to do The Wire. Naomie Harris has to do Moonlight. Thandiwe Newton has to do Mission: Impossible. Daniel Kaluuya has to do Get Out… There isn’t the same trajectory as if they’re white, British actors. It’s different.’
He recalls his methodology for trying to break out of pigeonholing. ‘I had to say to the people who were considering taking me on as an agent, “Put me up for the roles that are either non-race-specific or are specifically white, because that’s where there’s more dimension. And then I’ll bring the specificity of my Blackness to it.” When it’s written for a Black character, the aperture just goes so small, and it does fall into caricature and stereotype – and a lot of the stereotypes that I didn’t want to be perpetuating. Also, it made characters such that a global audience couldn’t relate to them. They felt so niche. They felt so boxed. A lot of my career has been spent exhaustingly having to educate people – my history, my culture, who I am, my journey, is not their bias or their perspective. Things are getting better but ultimately until women, until Black and brown people own distribution mechanisms, or have the resources to be able to tell their own stories outside of the studio system, we’re going to be in this cycle.’
Oyelowo leans forward in his chair and inspects Gene’s work before asking for minute calibrations in the weight of his goatee. I ask him about growing up in the UK as the kid of immigrants. His Nigerian parents from two different tribes ‘essentially eloped’ to Britain to be together, having him in Oxford before the family moved to South London and then back to Lagos. ‘You want to talk about a culture shock? Not only was it just different culturally, but it was very different familially. We didn’t really have any family in the UK, and suddenly we lived on the Oyelowo compound on Oyelowo Street in Lagos.’ At 13, the Oyelowos returned to London, to Islington, where the teenager caught the acting bug. Now he lives in Los Angeles with his family (a 13-year-old daughter and 17-year-old son; his two older sons, aged 20 and 23, have since flown the nest), three dogs and two parrots. At 48 he considers himself in the sweet spot for amassed experience and nous. ‘One of the greatest things about getting older and more experienced is trusting your gut. I think that it should be earned over time. It’s not something where you’re coming in as a 19-year-old and just throwing your weight around. I’ve seen that, and it’s not pretty. But an opinion based on knowing to trust your gut, combined with experience and with humility, I think is where you’re really starting to make a dent – a good one. That’s something that is increasing for me. And it’s amazing how much more you can achieve with genuine “sacrificial love”, where you’re putting other people before yourself, and therefore creating a culture with everyone looking after each other. On a set in particular – that’s one of the things I love about being a producer or a director. It’s having the opportunity to help establish that culture. If you’re not in a leadership position, it’s much harder to help engender that environment. The abuse of power is all about insecurity. I don’t like working with those guys or girls. That’s a luxury I now have. Not everyone has that luxury. But, boy, it’s one I take, because it’s so debilitating working with people who are power-hungry, who are not truly collaborative, who are toxic, and who just seem to thrive on making other people’s lives difficult. It’s just not worth it.’
Gene is done – it’s a fresh cut – and we return to the theme of excellence. Oyelowo thinks back to seeing the way Steven Spielberg surrounded himself with the highest level of craftsmanship on Lincoln. ‘If you find good people, hold on to them for dear life. With Spielberg – the director of photography, production designer, costumes – so many of the crew have done multiple films with him. And it’s a great way to just weed out the arseholes, and just have that shorthand with people.’ He turns to his groomer Vonda sitting nearby and asks how long they’ve worked together. The answer is 15 years. He asks his PA, Darnell, the same question. It’s three. Oyelowo throws up his hands in a ‘see?’ fashion and laughs. ‘I’ve told Darnell very clearly that I need at least seven years’ notice if she’s going to quit!’ He stands and brushes his hair off. ‘For me, that’s how you have not only a good life but a good working life…’
Government Cheeseis streaming now on Apple TV+ Hair: Gene Miller, Grooming: Vonda Morris, Styling: Mark Holmes
Charlie Heller (Rami Malek) is a self-confessed CIA nerd and puzzle fan. A systems analyst and decoder who can unpick a photo to determine the location of the subject, access cameras across the world and save the life of a field agent via technology, he’s nevertheless a homebody who has never travelled overseas and is tinkering with a cessna plane in his barn but may never fly it.
John Wilson/20th Century Studios
When his wife (Rachel Brosnahan) jets off to London for a conference all that changes as she is taken hostage and killed by terrorists. Beset by grief, rage and retribution, Charlie tires of waiting for the CIA top brass to do anything about tracking down the killers and sets off to unravel their identities and exact revenge himself. And in doing so uncovers a conspiracy at the heart of the agency…
John Wilson/20th Century StudiosJohn Wilson/20th Century Studios
Developed by Malek with his producer’s hat on from Robert Littell’s bestseller, The Amateur plays with the idea of what would happen if a regular joe who couldn’t shoot or fight went out into the world of espionage. Rather than having the action competence of Bond or Bourne, Charlie sweats his way through security checks and devises nerdy, inventive ways of teaching bad guys a lesson. That fish-out-of-water element is the central charm of the film, with Malek convincing as a man who can improvise de-pressurised swimming pools (try to resist the trailer to save this set piece for the screen), but is out of his depth.
John Wilson/20th Century Studios
Though the film rests on the expressive Malek bringing audiences along for the ride he’s helped in his quest by Laurence Fishburne glowering as a handler on his trail, Caitríona Balfe as a spy widow who uses chickens and laptops with equal aplomb, and Michael Stuhlbarg making the big bad a morally nuanced catch. Jon Bernthal also turns up for coffee and cake (literally). A quieter espionage outing than 007 but one that still provides globetrotting, foot chases and explosions amid the tech tinkering with GPS, CCTV and pressure gauges.
Words by JANE CROWTHER Photographs by JOHN WILSON/20TH CENTURY STUDIOS The Amateur is out now
The question of whether a mythical horse beast with a forehead protuberance shifts its mortal coil is answered fast in this debut satire from writer-director, Alex Scharfman. Within minutes of uptight attorney Elliot (Paul Rudd) and his emo teen daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega) touching down in the Canadian wilderness, they have mowed down the titular equine in their hire car as they fractiously drive to the remote home of his obscenely rich, terminally-ill boss (Richard E. Grant), Odell Leopold.
Balazs Goldi/Monoceros Media LLC
A make or break weekend for Elliot who wants to earn the trust of the pharma-wealthy Leopold family in order to make big bucks as their proxy lawyer, he insists on continuing with the trip by shoving the unfortunate road kill in the trunk and begging his reeling daughter to act normal. She’s obviously not going to toe the line because she wears smudged eyeliner and declares that ‘philanthropy is just reputational laundering’. But when the unicorn’s horn and blood prove to have transformative healing powers, a moral and physical battle commences – not least because the beast’s magical clan want revenge…
Balazs Goldi/Monoceros Media LLCBalazs Goldi/Monoceros Media LLC
Though the themes are familiar and broad (wealthy people are awful, big pharma is ruthless, healthcare is ringfenced for the rich), the cast elevate proceedings with committed performances. Grant is reliably gonzo as a wildlife-hunting British toff with a safari-chic sartorial bent, Téa Leoni serves odious wealthy wife that fans of Parker Posey’s White Lotus turn will relish, while Will Poulter essays ‘moneyed doofus’ with aplomb, an entitled twit with delusions of grandeur who thinks short shorts and hot tubs are the answer to everything.
While they do the gags, Rudd and Ortega explore the emotion amid the carnage as ferocious, pointy-headed ponies savage staff – hoof-popping skulls, disemboweling with fangs and goring with horns. As the savagery amps up and night turns to dawn, Death Of A Unicorn becomes a meditation on death and grief as Ridley and Elliot work through their trauma from losing their mother/wife to cancer. And there’s an 11th hour moment that plays as truly dark and beautiful, shifting gear momentarily from an extended Black Mirror episode to something trotting on the edge of profound. At the centre though, Ortega shines – as lead and producer – the human heart in a cruel world.
Balazs Goldi/Monoceros Media LLC
Words by JANE CROWTHER Photographs by BALAZS GOLDI/MONOCEROS MEDIA LLC Death of a Unicorn is out now
The titular lady is a black-clad veiled figure who appears calmly sitting in her Victoriana outfit on the perimeter of a family farm on a sun-dappled day. That in itself may not be disquieting but it’s the start of a haunting film that deftly explores grief, motherhood, guilt and the interior darkness we all carry for much of its brisk run time.
The woman (Okwui Okpokwasili) appears one day that seems suffocating for Ramona (Danielle Deadwyler). The widowed mother of a teenage boy (Peyton Jackson) and little girl (Estella Kahiha), Ramona is a woman who awakes and asks the universe to give her strength. Why? Because her husband has died in a car accident that also seriously injured her, she’s struggling to pay the bills on the farmhouse they bought as a fixer-upper, she feels trapped in a life she didn’t want for herself and just getting out of bed is a feat – physically and emotionally. On this particular day the family discover that the electricity has been cut off, leaving them without juice to charge their phones or keep the food in the fridge fresh. Popping pills and struggling with mental health, Ramona is attempting to keep her rage at bay with her kids when the dark figure manifests on the lawn, sitting motionless and watching the house. Her period clothing and poise suggest an otherworldliness, her blood-covered hands and murmuring of ‘today’s the day’ evoke a fear in the family. Who is she and what does she want? As the trio lock themselves in the house and the shadows of the day length, the answer becomes apparent as the woman moves closer…
Daniel Delgado Jr./Universal Pictures
To say more is to venture into spoilers but Jaume Collet-Serra ratchets up tension and unease with creepy cinematography, a couple of jump scares and a reoccurring mirror motif. As the locus of the woman’s visit comes into focus, the story beats soften. And while the idea of the twist at the centre of the film offers opportunity to examine suicide ideation, depression, mourning, the pressure on women to carry a family and even generational trauma (the house is in Georgia), the final third is as fuzzy as Deadwyler’s mom. The pleasure then is in watching an actor who has wowed recently in The Piano Lesson and I Saw The TV Glow fill out the blanks of this role with unapologetic ferocity and tangible pain. Ramona isn’t always likable, but she is always relatable and Deadwyler sells a final act arc with incredible sensitivity.
A psychological horror that will likely intrigue and exasperate in equal measure. And serves as a reminder to always charge your phone…
Daniel Delgado Jr./Universal Pictures
Words by JANE CROWTHER Photographs by DANIEL DELGADO JR./UNIVERSAL PICTURES The Woman in the Yard is in cinemas now
Robert de Niro playing two mob bosses in a film scripted by Nicholas Pileggi of Goodfellas fame in a decades-spanning true tale of NY turf wars? Ba-da-bing! Barry Levinson’s elegant biopic ticks all the boxes for audiences craving a little Scorsese-adjacent drama filled with sharp suits, mobster mumblings and period detail.
Leaning into his own acting legacy, de Niro plays Big Apple godfather, Frank Costello – a suave, temperate leader who’s happily married to Bobbie (Debra Messing) and has risen from an immigrant teen frequenting the Alto Knights social club, through prohibition to become the so-called ‘prime minister’ of syndicated crime. He also plays his rival, Vito Genovese, an erratic, violent kingpin who wants a slice of the pie and will leave a trail of bodies to get it. The two men are differentiated by modified Noo Yawk accents and CGI noses; Costello in the mode of de Niro in Goodfellas, Genovese taking a leaf out of the Joe Pesci school of hair-trigger rage monsters. When Vito books a hit on Frank (carried out by an almost unrecognisable Cosmo Jarvis committing fully to the bit as a heavy putz) in 1957, Frank narrates the fallout and build-up to this particular moment. That takes in the introduction of drugs, congressional hearings and RFK’s mafia purge.
Jennifer Rose Clasen/Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.Jennifer Rose Clasen/Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
Levinson loads his film with archival footage, luxe production design and costumes, plus plenty of wise guy conversations in the vein of Goodfellas’ ‘how am I funny?’ moment. (Mob goons chat about Mormon history in the back of a car, Vito whines about the disrespect of an ex-husband and the appraisal of a failed hit is almost pastiche). There’s a humorous streak that runs through proceedings from the kick of seeing De Niro walking lap dogs in mink coats to a disastrous mafia barbeque. And there’s spirited women who hold their own in the Mafioso flexing; Messing and her plentiful jewels manage to create a warm and believable partnership and homelife, while Katherine Narducci is hugely entertaining as Vito’s vivacious broad of a wife.
Jennifer Rose Clasen/Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
But the main event is seeing De Niro face off with De Niro, and Levinson provides a number of scenes where Vito and Frank converse, biting at each other in candy stores and prison cells. It’s testament to the actor’s skills that the CGI trickery convinces and the two men feel both real and separate. While it doesn’t break the mold in mob tales, it’s not too shabby either. Capiche?
Jennifer Rose Clasen/Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
Words by JANE CROWTHER Photographs by JENNIFER ROSE CLASEN/WARNER BROS. ENTERTAINMENT INC. The Alto Knights is out in cinemas now
George and Kathryn Woodhouse ((Michael Fassbender and Cate Blanchett) are married British spies – intentionally childless, cool as cucumbers, impeccable dressers and would kill for each other. They live in a glamorous townhouse in London and conduct covert ‘black bag’ operations that take them away from each other on secret assignments. He is fastidious in grooming, cooking and methodology; she reverberates with intelligence and sensuality. But when George is tasked with finding a rat in the organisation and given a list of five possible suspects that includes his wife, both their loyalties – martial, national and professional – are tested. With a week to find the traitor in a group that includes a psychiatrist (Naomi Harris), a tech whiz (Marisa Abela), a suave overachiever (Regé-Jean Page) and a lax agent (Tom Burke), George needs to be as sharp as his Dunhill-tailored suits…
Claudette Barius/Focus Features
Steven Soderbergh’s brisk and smart thriller (written by David Koepp) enjoys riffing on our cultural awareness of spies in movies while still laying out a twisty bread crumb trail of clues to a satisfying reveal. It’s surely no coincidence that two former Bond stars feature in the cast – Miss Moneypenny Harris as a company shrink and 007 himself, Pierce Brosnan, as an ‘M’-adjacent agency boss who enjoys eating sushi while the fish is still gasping its last. The lensing and costuming evoke spy movies of the ’70s (prepare to covet the clothing), while scenes involving polygraphs deliciously skewer movie tropes while also teaching us a sphincter-clenching move to beat the lie detector. Drone strikes, hard drives, satellite surveillance and firearms are used, as are drugs to kill and to loosen tongues. But the most dangerous weaponry discharged is the ability to keep one’s head and use the brain within it.
Claudette Barius/Focus FeaturesClaudette Barius/Focus Features
To that end, though it’s fun to watch all the players as they circle each other (particularly a peevish Brosnan), the main event is Fassbender and Blanchett, ice and fire, as they toy with their team in the pursuit of marital stress-testing. Is Kathryn the mole? Would it even matter if she was? Does George actually watch her wherever she goes? And does she like it? With their one-on-one scenes played out in the bedroom (while dressing, undressing, preparing for bed or sex) Fassbender and Blanchett pull off a Mrs & Mrs Smith frisson that, given the open ending, could leave room for further films. And while we wait for the next Bond, why not? When it’s done with this much cheeky style…
Words by JANE CROWTHER Photographs by CLAUDETTE BARIUS/FOCUS FEATURES BLACK BAG is in cinemas now