Anthropoid: Grim, fact-based war drama

Anthropoid (2016) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated R, for violence and dramatic intensity
By Derrick Bang

Terrible title, taut thriller.

And historical authenticity doesn’t necessarily justify the choice. Nor does historical authenticity conceal another issue.

Having parachuted into Czechoslovakia only the night before, Jan Kubiš (Jamie Dornan,
left) and Josef Gabčík (Cillian Murphy) steal a truck in order to reach Prague, where they are to
link up with resistance fighters

To cite another recent example ... despite the care with which 2000’s The Perfect Storm was assembled, I couldn’t overcome the core paradox:

Sebastian Junger’s book — and, thus, William D. Wittliff’s screenplay — were based on an actual event that left no survivors. Ergo, everything we watched was no more than an educated presumption of what actually happened: a narrative conceit that can’t help pulling us out of the story at every significant juncture.

This is never a problem with dramatic fiction, which allows us to simply go with the flow; we accept the saga on its own merits. But no matter how persuasively George Clooney and Mark Wahlberg delivered their dialogue — no matter how heroically they behaved — it was impossible to accept things at face value. Were the men in question really that brave? Actually that selfless?

Similar questions emerge during the course of Anthropoid, director Sean Ellis’ often gripping account of a World War II incident that forever changed the fate of Czechoslovakia, and quite likely altered the direction of the entire war. Ellis and co-writer Anthony Frewin have developed their script from what is known about “Operation Anthropoid,” and while the clandestine mission’s preparation and outcome are the stuff of recorded history, much of this storyline can’t be any better than speculation.

Whether that’s vexing enough to be an issue, will be up to the individual viewer. It’s easy to imagine that things may have gone down this way, and that might be sufficient. Ellis certainly draws persuasive performances from most of his cast — with one unfortunate exception — and there’s no denying the suspenseful nobility inherent in WWII resistance fighters who risked everything to thwart Nazi advances.

The film begins in December 1941, three years after the Allies’ notorious “Munich Agreement”: the act of appeasement that passively allowed Hitler to take over Czechoslovakia without a shot being fired. Two soldiers from the London-based Czechoslovakian army-in-exile — Jan Kubiš (Jamie Dornan) and Josef Gabčík (Cillian Murphy) — parachute back into their occupied homeland, and carefully make their way to the few individuals who remain in the underground resistance.

The Walk: Nary a misstep

The Walk (2015) • View trailer 
4.5 stars. Rated PG, for minor profanity and chaste nudity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.2.15

And I worried that this film might be dull.

The saga of Philippe Petit’s high-wire walk between the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers, in the summer of 1974? OK, granted; it was an amazingly audacious stunt, and an impressive display of awesome dexterity and physical prowess. But how in the world could that sustain a two-hour film?

Once they've become an item, Philippe Petit (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) shares his impossible,
idealistic scheme with Annie (Charlotte Le Bon): to somehow run a cable between the two
closest corners of New York's fabled Twin Towers, and then to embark on the most
incredible — and dangerous — wire walk ever attempted.

Silly me.

Director Robert Zemeckis’ exhilarating depiction of Petit’s bold feat is almost as exciting as the historic walk itself. Cinematographer Dariusz Wolski’s breathtaking, crystal-clear camera angles blend seamlessly with Kevin Baillie’s visual effects, to put us “right there” at virtually impossible moments.

I haven’t been this dazzled by a film’s visuals since Claudio Miranda’s Academy Award-winning work in 2012’s Life of Pi.

Wolski and Baillie also make excellent use of their 3D effects, for which this film clearly was designed. The dimensionality is integrated smoothly, often to enhance the sense of vertigo — particularly during the third act — as we peer down from the top of one of the towers. 3D cinematography hasn’t been used this well since Martin Scorsese’s marvelous handling of the technology, in 2011’s Hugo.

Inevitably, whether at a circus or elsewhere, we always watch wire-walkers from below; it simply isn’t possible to do otherwise. But that’s precisely what Zemeckis and his team pull off: We often experience Petit’s work from above — disorienting enough — or even as if we’re standing alongside him.

Our rational minds insist that what we’re watching couldn’t possibly be real, just as our hearts suggest otherwise.

Which is a reaction that Petit, an impudent showman through and through, would both understand and encourage.

The riveting screenplay — by Zemeckis and co-scripter Christopher Browne, based on Petit’s memoir To Reach the Clouds — also contributes greatly to this film’s enthralling allure. Zemeckis and Browne don’t treat this as “mere” build-up to a fleeting display of athletic grace; it is, instead, one of cinema’s ultimate, clenched-knuckle heist flicks, told with the panache and verbal flamboyance of a circus barker.

The Hundred Foot Journey: A tasty banquet

The Hundred Foot Journey (2014) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG, and quite pointlessly; suitable for all ages
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.8.14

This film is as sweetly “old world” as its narrative: unhurried, gently amusing and utterly delectable.

Wanting to atone for his father's most recent prank, Hassan (Manish Dayal, right) bravely
prepares a meal for the notoriously fussy Madame Mallory (Helen Mirren). As she gets
ready to taste it, this ritual is observed by her head chef, Jean-Pierre (Clément Sibony),
who knows full well what's about to happen.

Director Lasse Hallström has uncorked another effervescent, food-based fairy tale every bit as enchanting as his 2000 adaptation of Chocolat. That, too, was set in a small French village and based on a charming novel (by Joanne Harris). This new film, adapted by Steven Knight from Richard C. Morais’ equally engaging book, will delight foodies, romantics and those who believe that not all culture clashes must end badly.

And while Hallström’s touch is primarily whimsical, the narrative has a bit of bite, and also a moral that reminds us to follow our hearts ... and that, to quote a certain Dorothy Gale, there’s no place like home.

But while the bulk of Knight’s script is flavorsome, the appetizer-sized prologue is both a mouthful and somewhat difficult to digest. It feels like a massive portion of Morais’ book has been compressed into an abbreviated flashback, showing how the Mumbai-based Kadam family loses its restaurant — and endures horrific personal tragedy — during an unspecified political clash; then moves to London, but finds both the climate and local foodstuffs unappetizing; and subsequently seeks a warmer environment (in both spirit and temperature) during a European road trip.

At which point their vehicle breaks down, fortuitously, outside the quaint little hamlet of Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val, in the south of France.

“Brakes don’t fail for no reason,” insists patriarch Papa (Om Puri), who views this incident as A Sign, much the way he falls in love with the abandoned former restaurant on the village outskirts. But his family’s efforts to transform this dilapidated wreck into a haven of Indian cuisine — cheekily dubbed Maison Mumbai — are viewed with grim disapproval by Madame Mallory (Helen Mirren).

Her Michelin-starred French restaurant, Le Saule Pleureur, is literally just across the country road — 100 feet away — from Papa Kadam’s new venture.

Madame Mallory doesn’t tolerate competition; indeed, she very likely contributed to the failure of the previous eatery across the road. And in a village small enough for her imperious desires to hold sway — much to the distress of the mayor (Michel Blanc, in a small but quite droll part) — the result is all-out war, albeit a skirmish conducted clandestinely, on a battlefield marked by city codes and the local farmers’ market.

A challenge that Papa Kadam embraces with equal enthusiasm.