Nriks

This is an interesting - and more importantly - entertaining film, which attempts to weave together the varying mythologies surrounding the Jack the Ripper legend, whilst at the same time, presenting us with a cross-section of Hollywood game-playing. This however, is the film's eventual undoing.

Here we get a horror story, a detective thriller, a social-comment, a black comedy, and a romantic mystery all jostling for our attention. A more intelligent filmmaker may have been able to blend these over-lapping genres so that the audience was engrossed, without being distracted. Sadly the Hughes Brothers bite off more than they can chew, and instead of gliding seamlessly from one scene to the next, end up stumbling around with little interest or clue as to where the characters are taking them. Imagine if someone like Kieslowski had lived to direct this... the effect would surely have been magical.

Luckily for us, the production design and cinematography are exquisite, and even if the Polish exteriors sometimes fail at mirroring the real-life streets of Victorian London, we at least get some wonderful moments of cinematic-colour. The script by Hayes and Yglesias keeps us guessing in a Hollywood kind of way, meaning that the film is enjoyable while it lasts, but gives us little to ponder as an after-thought. Dialog is of a standard... giving us the correct amount of narrative information and just enough character development to satisfy the more learned of cineastes.

Acting is fairly impressive, with Depp once again delivering a charming performance as our lead-protagonist Inspector Aberline… the only criticism being his woeful Michael Caine impression, which is, I suppose, meant to convincingly pass as a real-life London dialect. However, he is nowhere near as dire as Ms Graham, lovelier than ever with dyed red curls, yet totally inept at conveying any sense of emotion... and what in the name of sweet baby James was that accent supposed to be. We also have support from Robbie Coltrane, Ian Holm and the late Katrin Cartlidge, all of whom are very impressive in their respective roles.

It is rare for a Hollywood thriller to display a large amount of visual imagination, accuracy and an interest in Historical politics... so it is doubly disappointing that none of the film's separate elements come together as successfully as they should. Still, this is an enjoyable little romp, defiantly worth a viewing... and maybe even a few repeats. 3/5

What can be said about A Matter of Life and Death that hasn't already been stated? What combination of words can do justice to the visual poetry created by our intrepid filmmakers? Yet here I am, rummaging through my mind to find such words to explain my devotion to this visual extravaganza of pure cinematic ecstasy.

This is a film that entices the viewer with an image of love so unashamedly romantic, so achingly beautiful, that one could write five pages of gushing critique without even mentioning the competence of its makers or the extent of their excess - and believe me, this is a film filled with excess. Similarly, one could easily devote as much space to describing the intricacies of the script; the narrative experimentations, the juxtaposition of reality and fantasy, love and death, war and peace, woman and man and so-on. We could discuss the subtle beauty of the film's climax; that 'only in the movies' mentality that, in the hands of other [lesser] filmmakers, would come across as either disgustingly sentimental or completely false. The Archers don't have this problem; they create such an intoxicatingly dense reality, not only with the opening scenes of Peter's bomber engulfed by flames, but with the film's fantastical [literally stellar] introduction.

We have the use of voice over - a comforting [obviously BBC radio inspired] voice - describing to us with very calm reassurance the intricate workings of everything from heaven and earth and the cosmos to the notion of humanity and fate. There is no way of explaining just how audacious this would have been considered at the time of the film's release, demonstrating the notion of inter-textual pastiche long before post-modernism became the buzz word of the western world. No other filmmaker has ever attempted such a daring use of narration since, with the possible exception of Greenaway with A Zed & Two Noughts. However, the Archers aren't simply concerned with being clever, because for all the tricks and turns the film takes, it never loses sight of its central concern... the gloriously realised depiction of love. The love in A Matter of Life and Death is of ecstatic yearning, of youthful ebullience and giddy glee; so wonderfully personified by the characters of Peter and June.

This is a film that is constantly building and revealing its self, offering us something [be it external or internal] that is absolutely jaw dropping. The realisation of heaven as a monochromatic abyss, filled with lost souls that watch silently like curious children as the celestial court is held must be one of the most stunning images of the twentieth century. Even more rapturous is the depiction of the real world, with its luminous Technicolor and jarring camera angles. Every element of cinematic technique only adds to the joy of the film; the bold colours, the intoxicating use of the camera as a spectator, with its god like compositions and almost ecstatic use of movement. The editing is rhythmic; dissolving, jumping, matching, and fading... it carries us along with the characters, creating excitement out of the most mundane of tasks [the table-tennis for example]. And this is the point of the film, this image of a bureaucratic heaven, with its militant orderliness, its 'Americanised' regimes, its stern councillors, and eccentric Frenchmen. Compare it to the mid-night picnic, the dinner scenes at the doctor's house, even the image of the naked shepherd boy and the deserted coastal wasteland and we have a depiction life's true splendour.

There's also politics, satire, bravado, stiff-upper-lipped heroism, dementia, longing, loneliness, love, death, patriotism... and so much more than that. There is also the mirroring of war within the film's subtext; e.g. the depiction of battle, the consequences of fate, the crossing of boarders, the rivalry between the US and Great Britain, the forming of allies, the French as traitors, the image of the English soldier lost amidst a foreign [possibly alien] landscape, etc. Then we have the acting, with every performance a standout. Niven is both helpless and heroic as Peter, teetering between life and death but never loosing his charm. Livesey, as the doctor, the father figure, and so much more - who watches the town below from his camera obscurer like some kind of god - comes to represent the voice of science, of intelligence and above all else, reason. And finally Kim Hunter as June; stern, loving, confident, honest... and without a doubt the most gorgeous woman to ever grace the silver screen.

A Matter of Life and Death is a film that transcends the art of criticism; writers of my ineptitude could never do justice to its beauty no matter how hard we try. All I can do is urge you to experience this film... to bathe in its beauty... bask in its ideas and worship the genius on display. This is more than just a classic of British cinema; this is the reason for cinema's very existence, a film so powerful in its design that the mere mention of its title should compel us to seek it out. Now how many films can rival that?

Rain-swept locations, men in hats, desperate longings, sex during the blitz... there are some interesting stylistic touches in Neil Jordan's The End of the Affair, but few of them manage to overcome the curiously stilted, somewhat detached performances by the central trio of characters.

In mounting (no pun!) this adaptation of Graham Green's semi-autobiographical novel, director Jordan has opted for a restrained, somewhat old-fashioned tone. Yes, there are still enough scenes of jiggling bare-buttocks and the knocking of boots to keep the 'art-house crowd' happy, and yes, Ms Moore does 'get them out'... but apart from the odd scene of soft-focus humping the film is fairly unabashed in its romanticism. The effect is less DH Lawrence, more Mills & Boon, with Ralph Finnes either moping around post war London, or sitting in front of a typewriter pouring out his "diary of hate". ...in fact, the film works better as a detective story than a romance, as Finnes tries to piece together the events that actually led to the end of the affair... which, needless to say, makes for much more rewarding cinema than the description above. In the film, Finnes plays Maurice Bendrix, a sort of alter ego for Green, who after meeting an old acquaintance during a midnight stroll in a rainstorm is re-introduced to his one-time lover, Sarah. For the rest of the film we flash backwards and forwards between past and present as Bendrix questions how the affair began... and why Sarah decided to end it. Coupled with this, we also have Maurice's difficult relationship with Sarah's husband Henry who suspects that his wife is involved with someone... but is painfully oblivious as to who that someone is.

Of course we know that the film will build to an inevitable, emotionally staggering finale, but one must regardless of expectancy, commend Jordan for actually pulling it off. In a film filled with particularly ridged characters, it is a miracle that we ever managed to care anything for our protagonists at all. With these final scenes, director Jordan is aided by composer Michael Nyman, who supplies the film with a lush, highly sensual score, bringing to mind his most popular work for The Piano. Cinematographer Roger Pratt deserves special mention also, for giving the film a wonderfully old-fashioned Technicolor glow, no doubt drawing his inspiration from the fantastical compositions he created for Terry Gilliam. The other key, technical contributor is production-designer Anthony Pratt, who creates an evocative, and wholly believable recreation of post-war London.

Naturally the whole thing looks spectacular, with each contributor being the best in their chosen field, but, regardless... the film never really takes off the way it should. This is all down to performance. Finnes is strong in the lead, lending the film an old-fashioned charm, sort of like Trevor Howard in Brief Encounter, but he fails to spark any form of chemistry with his supposed love-interest, Julianne Moore. As for Moore, well, technically speaking her performance is fine, but this is the problem. She's simply going through the motions, never really feeling her character or allowing her emotions to take her beyond the limitations of the story. She isn't helped by her put-on English accent, which I'm sure sounds fine to anyone outside of the UK, but to us natives, she is far too mannered and overly pronounced. Stephen Rea is also a disappointment as Henry, again struggling with the English accent and never really 'interacting' with either Sarah or Bendrix.

Overall, this is still a highly impressive film, with some fine support by Jason Isaacs, Ian Hart and the youngster Sam Bould. As previously noted, every technical element is as impressive as it could be, whilst Jordan's script manages to overcome some problems in drive by retaining a much-needed subtlety, which is more than you can say about some films. I'd speculate that the film's financial failure was probably down to the controversy kicked up in America due to Ralph's naked backside writhing around atop Ms Moore, something they call 'strong sexuality'. This will be most misleading to European viewers who are more than familiar with films like Romance, The Idiots, Intimacy and Baise-Moi. So if you're planning on watching The End of the Affair merely on the basis of explicit sexual content, then don't bother... the only things 'stiff' in this film are the upper lips.

Save for a few scenes of mild sexuality, this is a film about lovers, as apposed to love. It's often quite bitter and sad, and never really celebrates the joys of life [possible exception; the scenes that take place in Brighton] as one might expect from such a film. However, this is something that makes The End of the Affair all the more unique. Its old-fashioned-ness seems alien in comparison to such films as Fight Club or The Matrix and I for one find that very commendable. If Jordan had perhaps directed his actors to be a little more 'spirited' then we may have been looking at a classic. This isn't a classic, but it's certainly very good.