Iain De Caestecker

With his writing-directing debut, Ryan Gosling shows audacious skill as a visual artist but never quite manages to recount a story that grabs hold of the audience. It's a stunningly gorgeous film packed with strong, earthy performances from a starry cast playing against type. But there's no momentum at all to the narrative, which is packed with random symbolism that never quite resolves into anything either meaningful or emotionally engaging.

Lost River is a decaying, abandoned city on the edge of a lake created by damming up a river and flooding another town. In what's left of their neighbourhood, Billy (Christina Hendricks) lives in her family home with her sons: a toddler and a teen named Bones (Iain De Caestecker), who helps support the household by scavenging for copper in the vacant buildings nearby. But he's encroaching on the turf of self-proclaimed gangster Bully (Matt Smith), who is intent on exacting vicious revenge. Meanwhile, next-door neighbour Rat (Ronan) is caring for her delusional granny (Barbara Steele) and trying to help Bones. And when the new bank manager Dave (Ben Mendelsohn) turns down Billy's cry for help, she takes a job at his seedy underworld nightclub alongside Cat (Eva Mendes).

Aside from some blood-soaked cabaret, what goes on in this nightclub remains rather mysterious, as Billy finds higher-paying work in the purple-hued basement fetish rooms. But then everything in this film is enigmatic, as Gosling deliberately refuses to connect the dots. This gives the film an intriguing David Lynch-style tone, although it lacks Lynch's eerie resonance. There's also a touch of John Waters-style trashiness and Terrence Malick-style natural beauty, plus the clear influence of Gosling's heavily stylised past directors Nicolas Winding Refn (Drive and Only God Forgives) and Derek Cianfrance (Blue Monday and The Place Beyond the Pines). In other words, almost everything in this film feels like a reference to another movie, but it's expertly assembled to look fabulous from start to finish, with some seriously striking sequences along the way.

Continue reading: Lost River Review

Claustrophobic and creepy, this experiment in contained horror has its moments as just three characters circle around each other. But the approach is almost infuriatingly vague, which eliminates any real suspense. Still, it's sharply well shot and played, with a moody atmosphere that builds a strong sense of uncertainty. And director Lovering is extremely adept at making us jump at something unexpected.

It all kicks off when Tom (De Caestecker) invites Lucy (Englert) to attend a Northern Irish music festival with him. They've only been dating for a couple of weeks, and he's hoping this weekend clinches the deal, so he books a night in a romantic, isolated hotel. But on the way they are thoroughly unnerved by locals in a pub as they get lost on country lanes that, of course, are outside mobile phone and GPS coverage. There's also the problem that the hotel's signs are sending them in circles, and as night falls they wonder if they'll ever get there. All of which badly strains their new relationship. Then they run into a young guy (Leech) in the middle of the road.

With only three actors in the cast, it helps that they're all experts at bringing out subtle layers of intensity in each scene. The film is a riot of stolen glances and verbal jabs. These are people who don't always react in the most helpful ways, and they even seem to surprise themselves with the self-centred things they do. But for Lovering this interaction doesn't seem to be enough, and he shifts the focus to the fact that there's something evil and menacing in the darkness and rain, abandoning the more interesting character tension for random violence.

Continue reading: In Fear Review

This may look like a rom-com, with its obvious plotting and over-cute characters, but it's eerily lacking any actual romance or comedy. And there isn't much else to grab onto either, even though the likeable cast do what they can with a superficial script. Sadly, the director never manages to pull it all together.

Set in Glasgow, the story centres on Jane (Gillan), an aspiring author who is tired of rejection letters from publishers about her first novel, a down-beat story about father-daughter gloom. Then she gets an offer from a tiny local publishing house run by sexy Frenchman Tom (Weber) and his goofy assistant Roddy (De Caestecker). And the book is a surprise hit, winning awards and propelling her into rising-star glamour, complete with a flashy new screenwriter boyfriend (Cusick). But as she writes her second book, she gets writer's block due the thought of finishing her contract with Tom. She couldn't possibly be in love with him, could she? Meanwhile, in need of the manuscript, Tom and Roddy try to spark her writing by making her life as miserable as possible.

The film has a choppy structure that makes it impossible for anyone to have a meaningful moment. Every plot point is conveyed with another musical montage featuring colourful Glasgow landmarks and local indie music, all of which is nice to look at even though it leaves us unable to care. And while screenwriter Solomons at least tries to reinvent the standard rom-com structure, he still can't disguise the obvious fact that Jane and Tom are meant for each other from the start. And we also never doubt Jane's awkward attempts to reconcile with her dad (Lewis).

Continue reading: Not Another Happy Ending Review

As another full-on Irvine Welsh adaptation Trainspotting did in 1996, this bracingly original movie puts a new filmmaker on the map. Not only is this a loud blast of both style and substance, but it refuses to water down its subject matter, taking us through a shockingly profane story in a way that's both visually inventive and emotionally resonant.

This is the story of Bruce (McAvoy), an Edinburgh detective who's determined to beat his colleagues to a promotion. He's also a relentless womaniser, sexist, racist and drug addict. And he'll do anything to get ahead, hiding the sordid details of his private life from his boss (Sessions) while undermining the other cops at any chance while pretending to be their friends. In quick succession, he gets young Ray (Bell) addicted to cocaine, flirts continually with Amanda (Poots), has a fling with the kinky wife (Dickie) of fellow officer Gus (Lewis), torments Peter (Elliott) about his sexuality, and takes Bladesey (Marsan) on a sex-tourism holiday while making obscene calls to his needy wife (Henderson). All of this happens while Bruce leads the investigation into a grisly murder.

McAvoy dives so far into this role that we barely recognise him in there. Bruce is so amoral that we are taken aback by each degrading moment. And yet McAvoy somehow manages to hold our sympathy due to the film's blackly hilarious tone and a startling undercurrent of real emotion. Even though he's a monster, we see his boyish fragility, especially in surreal sequences involving his therapist (Broadbent), which merge with his fantasies, hallucinations and nightmares. 

Continue reading: Filth Review

With a remarkably vivid sense of life in rural Scotland, this tightly contained drama is an impressive debut for writer-director Graham. There isn't much dialog, and yet the filmmaker is able to evoke a strong sense of internal urgency within the characters. And in the demanding title role, newcomer Pirrie is magnetic.

Shell (Pirrie) is a 17-year-old girl who lives with her father Pete (Mawle) at their roadside petrol garage in the middle of nowhere along a highway through the Highlands. Devoted to caring for her dad, who has epilepsy, Shell knows all the customers, including a slightly too-friendly businessman (Smiley) who travels through here regularly. And Pete and Shell are willing to help stranded travellers, such as a couple (Dickie and Hickey) that needs help when they run into a deer on the road. Meanwhile, nice local guy Adam (De Caestecker) wants to take Shell away from here, but the thought of that triggers slightly too-affectionate feelings about her dad.

The film is a marvel of tiny details, as Shell and Pete communicate without the need for many words. And Graham's cameras capture every sideways glance, hint of a smile, light touch and uncomfortable scowl to let us see how isolated this father and daughter are from the rest of civilisation. This style of interaction creates tension that sometimes feels rather dangerous. For example, after Pete takes a trip into town, Shell sniffs him like a jealous wife. Yes, these are raw performances that are often unnerving. And since we see everything through Pirrie's expressive, haunted, hopeful eyes, we can't help but be drawn into her world.

Continue reading: Shell Review