99 Homes. I Feel Bad For You Son.

poster-xlargeHow does a film about the housing market crisis grab you? Whoop whoop! You’re hoiking your trainers on and sprinting down to your local multiplex as we speak! No? Well you ought to, for 99 Homes is easily the most intelligent and gripping film The Sloth has seen so far this year. Trust us.

Nash (Andrew Garfield) is a single father in Florida, struggling to make ends meet with dead end, ad hoc construction work. Trouble is, being in dead end, ad hoc jobs, he’s not been able to pay his mortgage instalments and the court has ordered repossession. We meet him as real estate agent Rick Carver (Michael Shannon) is coldly turfing Nash, his young son and Nash’s mother (Laura Dern) out on the street.

Relocated to a cheap motel and desperate for money, Nash is offered a labouring job by Carver. Overcoming his aversion he accepts, being careful to conceal from his family the not insignificant fact that he is working for the man who ruined their lives. Before long, the slick, moneyed and predatory Carver suggests he start working for him full time, first as a handyman but then as a repossession agent himself. Nash, with only a modicum of reflection, accepts. Then faces the moral cost of earning cash at the expense of human suffering.

99 Homes is so, so much more than a film about the property market.  It’s a morality play with echoes of Greek tragedy, plus a good slice of poetry thrown in. Dr Faustus may be the obvious comparison, but the script (co-written by director Ramin Bahrami) is littered with evocative images and metaphors bordering on the Shakespearean, from Nash’s descriptions of himself as drowning, or Carver’s (whose name is hardly a coincidence) warning that Florida’s “gators never sleep”.

This isn’t an easy watch but it’s an important film that is not just about housing, but about human greed. And the actors rise to the same level as the script. Andrew Garfield in particular gives an outstanding performance, his conflicting emotions and desperation written all over his face. Go see it. And be afraid.

UK release 25 September

Me And Earl And The Dying Girl

earlAt the risk of sounding utterly callous, has anyone else noticed the rise of the ‘teenage cancer film’ sub-genre?  When was it decided this was a good subject for not just one, but several movies?  On a happier note, The Sloth is pleased to report that Me And Earl And The Dying Girl is to date, by far the best example.

Greg (Thomas Mann) is an average teenage high school youth. He has friends but isn’t one of the popular kids, nor is he a hopeless geek.  He hangs out with his mate Earl (RJ Cyler) and together they make short, animated parodies of famous films: Senior Citizen Cane, Eyes Wide Butt, etc. You know, the kind of effortlessly creative and quirky thing kids in US indie high school movies do. Unlike here in the UK, where extracurricular activities generally involve glue sniffing and teenage pregnancy.

Greg is happy in his average life until his mother (Connie Britton) announces his classmate Rachel (Olivia Cooke) has been diagnosed with cancer. Greg’s mum, being a well-meaning, emotional sort, insists Greg (who barely knows Rachel) spend time with her to cheer her up. Cue awkward visitation by a cowering Greg to a imperious Rachel, who insists she doesn’t want anyone’s pity.

Inevitably, the pair strike up a reluctant bond, soon hanging out in a happy gang of three with Earl. Inevitably, this leads to self discovery and character development on all sides. Inevitably there is a sad conclusion. Yes, on paper this all sounds derivative and a path that has been trodden umpteen times before. But Me & Earl is way better than it sounds on paper. It has real, genuine warmth and charm. Greg and Rachel are sweet and well meaning leads, but the real joy comes from the peripheral characters. Earl is an utter delight, a cryptic bundle of charisma in a hat, full of snappy witticisms and gnomic observations. Greg’s parents are the eccentric, hippyish counterfoils to their son’s straight-laced normality. And the whole thing is interspersed with Greg & Earl’s very own witty short films. The term ‘indie gem’ is somewhat overused but in this case, well deserved.

UK release 4 September

Holding The Man – The Salty Popcorn Review

 Please welcome back The Sloth’s antipodean sibling site, Salty Popcorn, bringing you the best of Australian cinema. Editor Jason King reviews Holding The Man. Jason is the owner and editor of Salty Popcorn, a member of the Film Critics Circle of Australia and has been in the Australian movie industry for 25yrs. 

holdingIn 1976, Timothy Conigrave fell in love with the captain of the school football team, John Caleo. Thus began one of the greatest love stories ever told, HOLDING THE MAN, spanning fifteen years in a time when it was unacceptable to be gay. They went through hatred, disapproval, separations, immense guilt, disease and then death. When I look at this couple that is the love I long for in my life, regardless of their fates, it would be better to experience that love and live a short life than to not live that love at all. HOLDING THE MAN is the seminal gay coming of age fiction that every gay man in Australia has probably read.

The love story is incredible and the performances in the film are epic, besides the superb, but too brief, appearances of the supporting cast of Guy Pearce, Sarah Snook, Geoffrey Rush, Anthony LaPaglia and Kerry Fox, we have two leads that just smashed into the acting world, both Ryan Corr and Craig Stott have a few roles under their belts but this movie will bring international recognition and many job offers. They overcame being actors in this movie and became Tim and John, the scene on the beach where John looks into Tim’s eyes, doesn’t need to say anything and just conveys everything.

I do now have a crush on Ryan Corr and I truly hope we also see great things from Craig Stott, his latter scenes when he got sick were remarkable and soul destroying but we all know at that time you couldn’t stop HIV and its destruction, it was the tragedy of inevitability that overwhelmed my emotions. And the lethal fact that Timothy believes he killed the one person he loved more than anyone else on the planet. There are no words to describe the pain that must have caused him.On an uplifting note, the soundtrack is remarkable and a MUST BUY, it is a veritable history collection of superb tunes from the times with songs from Dragon, Bronski Beat, Rufus Wainwright, Rockmelons, Bryan Ferry, Dave Mason and Pete Shelley.

Sadly there are two things that lose half a point from my score, this movie will be in my top 10 of the year but two things really bugged me. 1) The wigs at the beginning, I get it, they kept the same actors to play the characters through the 15yrs and it kept a sense of love and continuity that really worked, but those wigs, especially John’s at the start of the movie just didn’t work for me. Or was this just because I have always loathed the mullet? 2) The set up and opening, it moved too quick and I didn’t get it.

The truly horrendous part of this story is that it is all true. On John’s deathbed he gives Timothy a tool to help him write his story, and he does, he writes this love story of epic proportions for John and to John. One month after the completion of the book Timothy passed away from HIV related complications. John never got to read the epic beauty of Tim’s love for him and Tim never got to see the epic love the world had for their story, nor how the world changed and is still changing (no help from our idiot PM) nor will they ever see how it has now become a beautiful movie.

In a time when change and equality is needed for Australia and the rest of the world and a time when Australia is sadly creeping back to the dark ages, this movie, if nothing else, shows how love is love regardless of your sex, sexual orientation and that the world should stand up for what is right. This country deserves the equality so people like you, me and the Tims and Johns of the world can be accepted as they are, equals in this world.

I bloody love this movie and its book from Timothy Conigrave. Director Neil Armfield (CANDY) has done a superb effort in bringing this story to the big screen, he maintained the heart of the story and gave the tale its delicate and required respect. Thank you.


45 Years. The Act of Marriage.

45 yearsThere are few actors who can command a screen solely with their eyes. Charlotte Rampling is one of them. 45 Years was written specifically with her in mind and boy, does she do it justice.

Charlotte plays Kate, who is married to Geoff (Tom Courtenay). Geoff and Kate live an unremarkable existence in an unremarkable area of rural Norfolk. Their life is a quiet, unremarkable routine of walking the dog, opening the post and taking trips into town for shopping and coffee. They’re about to celebrate their 45th wedding anniversary and are in the middle of planning an elaborate party to mark the occasion. Until a small bombshell drops.

Geoff receives news that an ex girlfriend has been found dead. Extraordinarily, she has been discovered in a glacier, perfectly frozen in time, having evidently lain there for years. The shock revelation stirs up long dormant feelings in Geoff that Kate finds increasingly difficult to deal with. Her suspicions aroused, Kate discovers evidence that Geoff and his ex were a lot closer than Geoff ever let her believe. So close that Kate questions whether she was ever Geoff’s true love. Whether she has in fact been second best all these years.

From unremarkable beginnings, 45 Years becomes a truly remarkable film. The Sloth can’t remember ever seeing such a totally convincing portrait of a marriage on screen. There is no doubt that these two have been married for decades, so natural and understated is the rhythm of their lives, interactions and conversations that leave as much unsaid as said. We, as viewers, have simply intruded as flies on the wall. Quietly devastating and utterly believable, Kate’s crumbling inner self is painful to watch and completely human. It makes us question how we would deal with such a potentially total betrayal, wondering whether the majority of our life has been a sham. With minimal fuss, this is a film 100% about the actors who both deservedly won Silver Berlin Bears. We doubt you’ll see better performances in a cinema this year. Or next, for that matter. Go see.

UK release 28 August.

Trainwreck. Sisters Are Crude-ing It For Themselves.

Trainwreck_posterSo when did you last hear a tampon joke in a mainstream Hollywood movie? Here, The Sloth shall resist all urges to say something along the lines of ‘bet you can’t bloody remember’ for that would be cheap and distasteful. Oops. Sorry. Anyway, prepare to have that taboo broken for Trainwreck, in the now time honoured tradition of Bridesmaids et al, seeks to go where no male scriptwriter dare.

Amy Schumer, writer and star of Trainwreck, is best known for her work on US comedy stalwart Saturday Night Live, a long running sketch show that counts the likes of Will Ferrell, Jimmy Fallon and Tina Fey amongst its alumni.  Amy plays Amy, whose father taught her from a young age that monogamy was unnatural and wrong. Adult Amy now chews through men at a rate of knots, washed down with copious volumes of alcohol and drugs, whilst working as a staff writer at a dubious lad’s magazine.

All is well and good, if rather foggy and dishevelled, in Amy’s world until she is given a work assignment to interview leading sports physician Aaron (Bill Hader).  Amy hates sport but decides she likes Aaron enough for a one night stand. Except nice guy Aaron then upsets Amy’s natural world order by calling her the next day and asking for a second date, the weirdo stalker freak. Even more unsettlingly, after first debating whether she ought to call the police, Amy agrees.

At its core, Trainwreck is essentially a traditional romantic comedy. Boy meets girl, they fall in love and a few hiccups occur along the way before the path of true love can run smooth. But layered on top is a frequently hilarious script that doubtless owes much to Amy Schumer’s sketch show experience. The joy is in set piece scenes that riff on various subjects – talking dirty in bed, the aforementioned tampon joke, racist older people. It also features a cast of rather fabulous supporting characters, from Tilda Swinton as a ball breaking magazine editor to a scene-stealing, if not entire movie-stealing, turn from basketball legend LeBron James playing a penny-pinching version of himself with tremendous, dead pan comic aplomb. Overall, it’s not quite as ground-breaking as Bridesmaids, but it’s certainly a quality addition to the burgeoning female-raunch genre.

Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation. Warp Speed, Scotty.

MI 5Love him or loathe him, Tom Cruise is box office Teflon, shrugging off sticky questions about his private life with a blinding white grin as the tills keep ringing. His latest, MI5, shows no sign of bucking the trend.

You know the drill. Tom is Ethan Hunt – so named long before a certain Tory Culture Secretary became the nemesis of BBC news presenters. Can you imagine John Humphries covering the MI5 red carpet? The Sloth would gladly pay to see the ensuing Wrath of Scientology reign down. But we digress.

Ethan pops up in London, specifically in a vintage record store (Kids, people used to buy music in flat black plastic circles. Yes, really), to receive details of his latest mission. Except he’s been duped. Instead, he’s been lured there in an assassination attempt by The Syndicate, a rogue terrorist organisation intent on destroying both Ethan and the IMF. But he escapes, because he can’t get killed in the first scenes, vowing to hunt down and destroy The Syndicate.

Back in the US, IMF boss Brandt (Jeremy Renner) is embroiled in a battle with head of the CIA, Hunley (Alec Baldwin), who tries and succeeds to get the IMF shut down. So Ethan has no choice but to Go Rogue himself, taking trusty Scotty, sorry, Benji (Simon Pegg) with him in his pursuit of The Syndicate. So ensues a non-stop, all action romp that takes in Europe, Morocco and the US, a ton of proper, Old Skool stunts which Mr Cruise, looking remarkably spritely for his 53 years, did the majority of himself, including hanging for dear life onto the side of an airborne plane and an epic underwater scene where either his acting skills are superlative or he really was on the brink of drowning.

All in all, it flies along at a rollicking pace and is great, popcorn fun. Not least due to being backed up by a smart, supporting cast including Rebecca Ferguson as kick-ass agent Ilsa Faust (at which point forgive us for getting on our high horse but, having given us a strong female character, the producers totally let themselves down by including a completely gratuitous arse-shot. Come on, you’re better than that) and the marvellous Tom Hollander as the UK PM with Simon McBurney as Atlee, his advisor. Yes, UK TV ‘Rev’ viewers, that’s Rev and The Archdeacon together in a Hollywood movie!  Obvs we were waiting with bated breath for Atlee to announce he “can’t stop, I’m late for brunch at The Wolseley with Melyvn Bragg” and were most disappointed when it didn’t happen. Maybe keep it in mind for MI6?

UK release 30 July

Magic Mike XXL And The Female Gaze

In the last couple of weeks this (female) Sloth has screened both Entourage and Magic Mike XXL, which to some extent can be seen as companion pieces to each other, being male and female skewed respectively. And our reactions to the two got us thinking.

For those of you who have not seen Entourage, we will summarise: young, male Hollywood hottie cruises around LA with his gang of pals, generally surrounded by pouting, large breasted dollybirds in various stages of undress:


For those of you who have not seen Magic Mike XXL we will summarise: gang of male strippers go on road trip, making regular stops to gyrate with puppyish enthusiasm in the laps of whooping, cackling women:


Now bearing in mind we are a female, heterosexual Sloth we should theoretically have lapped up (no pun intended) the oiled pecs of Mike and his crew and been filled with feminist ire at the jiggling cleavages gratuitously displayed throughout Entourage. But instead we found ourselves completely nonplussed by Entourage whilst frequently cringing with toe-curling embarrassment at Mike and co’s dry humping – to the extent of occasionally hitting the fast forward button.

Why so? Can’t be anything to do with the oft-cited theories that women are less reactive to visual stimulation than men – for if that was the case The Sloth surely should have been equally nonplussed by both. We can only conclude our reaction was down to social conditioning. Sexualised images of semi-naked women are saturated in cinema, the media, advertising, TV; omnipresent in all aspects of our culture. Yet to see semi-naked men displayed in mainstream culture purely for the purposes of heterosexual women’s objectification is not just rare, it’s virtually non-existent. So whilst highly sexualised images of women no longer merit even the tiniest raise of an eyebrow, the unprecedented sight of Channing Tatum in a cheesewire thong bumping and grinding to an audience of hundreds of women pulls the rug from under our social consciousness, leaving us confused and uncertain of how to react.

Now the facetious amongst you may be thinking ‘stop being so chaffing uptight and get down to a Chippendales gig already’, but we do think this is a depressing state of affairs. Don’t get us wrong, we’re not calling for men to start dropping their trousers and oiling up en masse, we’d just like a move towards a middling equality, beginning with changes in the depiction of women. If you haven’t done so already, may we urge you to sign the No More Page Three petition, which would be a start. Little acorns…

5 Great Music Films

In a week when both Love & Mercy and Amy go on general release, The Sloth has come over all melodious. We’ve hummed through our DVD collection to bring you our favourite musical films from recent years. If you haven’t yet seen them, get watching, preferably with the volume dialled up to 11.


It’s not just ‘coz The Sloth is a ma-hoo-sive Joy Division fan. Really it isn’t.  This biopic of Joy Division’s Ian Curtis is simply a sublime piece of filmmaking, being the feature film debut of both director Anton Corbjin and star Sam Riley, who gives an astonishing performance as the twitchy, tortured Curtis. By that logic, The Sloth wonders why more complete novices aren’t out there making BAFTA nominated films. We might give it a shot ourselves, come the next rainy Sunday afternoon.

oscar-isaac-in-inside-llewyn-davis1Inside Llewyn Davis

The Sloth has replayed Inside Llewyn Davis’s scene of Justin Trousersnake singing ‘Please Mr Kennedy’ on YouTube more times than we dare admit. And barked like a seal with sheer delight every single time. Should you have not seen these 100 mins of joy from the dark comic minds of the Coen Brothers, rectify this immediately. Not only is it chock full of bone dry humour, but it also features some beautifully sung folk music from the ludicrously talented Oscar Issac.

Poster_of_the_movie_Scott_Walker-_30_Century_ManScott Walker: 30 Century Man

No doubt you’ll have heard of The Walker Brothers, a 60’s band whose song The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Any More was a global hit. Post hits, Scott Walker went his own musical way. 30 Century Man explores what a way it was. Avant-garde doesn’t even begin to describe it. Revered to the status of legend in musical circles, Mr Walker’s work teetered on the brink of what we recognise as music. An afternoon in the studio, for example, might see him record professional percussionists methodically punching pieces of meat, as you do. Totally Bonkers.Totally brilliant.

tewneyTwenty Feet From Stardom

Seemingly a case of always the bridesmaid, never the bride, the backing singer can slug away for decades on the cusp of the limelight. But is that through choice, or are they a victim of bad luck? Documentary Twenty Feet From Stardom pulls the lid back on an unseen world where some of these supremely talented ladies have reached legend status amongst their musical peers. With interviews from the likes of Mick Jagger, this is proper, grown up, eye-opening stuff.

pitch-perfect-2-posterPitch Perfect 2

Yes, go ahead and sneer, snobby musical purists! You’re no fun and The Sloth would rather chew our own toenails than listen to you drone on about the influence of Andy Warhol on Leonard Cohen’s early works, blah blah, yawn, zzzz. We love the Pitch Perfect ladies, particularly for their sheer audacity in opening their second film with Fat Amy flashing her lady-bits to The Obamas. What more could you want? Apart from a robotic rival German group called (affect constipated voice) Das Sound Machine. Oh, they put that in too. Magic!

Love & Mercy. God Only Knows What Musical Genius Takes

Love-and-Mercy-Poster-2015En route to a preview screening of Love & Mercy, The Sloth was shocked to discover that a junior colleague in attendance “didn’t really know” The Beach Boys. Granted, said colleague was probably born when The Sloth was guzzling K Cider and shoe-gazing to Suede the first time round, but still. Good Vibrations is something babies can gurgle on emergence from the womb, no?

Having given said colleague a stern dressing down, we settled back. Love & Mercy is a dramatisation of the life of Brian Wilson, roundly acknowledged to be the creative force behind The Beach Boys and a bona fide musical genius. Split between his early career in the band and his later struggles with mental illness, it eschews a chronological approach to instead jump back and forth in time, with the younger Wilson played by Paul Dano and the older by John Cusack.

We first meet an older, shaky, ill Brian buying a Cadillac from attractive car dealer Melinda (Elizabeth Banks).  Striking up a rapport, Brian asks her out. But dating Brian is no simple matter. Pumped full of drugs and monitored 24/7 by the oppressive, controlling Dr. Eugene Landy (Paul Giamatti), it soon becomes clear that Brian’s life is not his own.

It’s easy to assume Brian Wilson’s later troubles resulted directly from 60’s ‘excess’ but, as Melinda gets to know Brian, so do we. We see the young Brian, clearly a fragile and sensitive soul to begin with, derided, mocked and tormented by a cruel father. We see the older Brian verbally abused and manipulated by Dr Landy. Fortunately for Brian, Melinda decides to do something about it.

And throughout it all we have the music. Paul Dano is stunning as the young Wilson, doing his own playing and singing in a manner that doesn’t just mimic, but somehow captures his spirit. A semi-improvised scene of a young Wilson on a creative high, frantically directing a wonderstruck studio full of musicians to play in entirely new ways, reminds us just how innovative he was.

Love & Mercy is a captivating, emotional tribute to genius and a warning note to the price it can cost. If you have any interest in music, any at all, go see. Then dig out your copy of Pet Sounds and play it with new reverence. Oh, and my junior colleague? He absolutely loved it. Mr Wilson, your legend lives on.

UK release 10 July

Strangerland – The Salty Popcorn Review

Please give a big welcome back to What Movie This Week’s Aussie pals Salty Popcorn, bringing you the best of Australian cinema.  Salty Popcorn’s editor, Jason King, takes a look at Strangerland, his hot tip for best Aussie movie of 2015. Fingers crossed it’ll wing its way over to Blighty before too long…

Strangerland_General_poster_A4poster-724x1024New to the remote Australian desert town of Nathgari, the Parker family is thrown into crisis when Catherine (Nicole Kidman) and Matthew (Joseph Fiennes) discover that their two teenage kids, Tommy (Nicholas Hamilton) and Lily (Maddison Brown), have mysteriously disappeared just before a massive dust storm hits the town. With Nathgari now eerily smothered in red dust and darkness, the locals join the search led by local cop David Rae (Hugo Weaving). With temperatures rising, and the chances of survival plummeting with each passing day, Catherine and Matthew find themselves pushed to the brink as they struggle to survive the uncertainty of their children’s fate.

The film is spectacular, hands down I do believe this will be my favourite Australian movie of 2015 and comes across as this year’s THE ROVER. It is easily one of Kidman’s best performances from an incredible career and she eats the screen in this one. Also her and Weaving act together is a perfect fit, two actors who not only know each other so well but are so comfortable acting together it is almost natural.

Dealing with grief is a terrible thing to go through, dealing with that grief with the knowledge that your children may or may not be dead and you don’t know where they are, and you can’t do anything is enough to drive anyone insane. In a small town in the middle of the desert when you know there is a survival clock is beyond horrendous. I don’t want to imagine.

For the Parkers, it is incredibly difficult, they moved to Nathgari for the sole purpose of getting away from attention. Attention brought about by their daughter, a truly promiscuous teenager who is bored in this small town and longs for attention. Lily is her mother’s daughter. Catherine needs attention, she is lonely, her husband has withdrawn away from her and they were never right for each other. In Nathgari she is bored, and depressed, and she lacks little in the way of feelings. Lily is basically the same but going through her late teen years. Tommy is younger, the most grounded and least affected by their family situation and someone adapting better but slower, but he also has his own issue and night-wanders through the town.

The film presents as a murder/ disappearance mystery/ psychological thriller, in a small town there can only be a few suspects and the entire town is affected by this tragedy.

As I said earlier Kidman’s performance is just sublime, she appears more comfortable away from the Hollywood studios. Weaving is always amazing and his small town cop, thoroughly enjoyable. I did not like Fiennes or his character and am uncertain if this is due to his bad casting or because it was so good I just loathed the character, the chemistry between him and Kidman was hideous, but at this stage of their marriage it should be. Brown was fine as slutty Lily and Hamilton was superb as Tommy, I loved his character and his lack of connection later in the movie was strong, the compassion and empathy I had for this kid was more powerful than my thoughts for the rest of the family.

The film captures small town Australian desert/ country-life perfectly, the dust storm was a bonus and the isolation was uncomfortable. Farrant’s direction was a triumph and P.J. Dillon’s cinematography is a marvel that is matched by the fine wine of Keefus Ciancia’s music that smothers the movie in long drawn out tension oozing in melancholy and desperation.

My gripes are two; firstly, already mentioned is my indecision of Fiennes, but this is not his movie, it is Kidman’s, and she owns it. But lastly, the ending was not what I was expecting, it was mostly unnecessary and I felt the film was let down by this, it lacked the gravitas I believed it desired.

Regardless of the flaws the film has way more merits, it plays like a long strummed piano wire and the tension is wonderful.

Salty Popcorn score: 4/5