Captain Phillips (2013) Review

Director Paul Greengrass is clearly on familiar ground here. Carefully treading water between the terrorist-fuelled tension of United 93, and the relentless action of his Bourne instalments, Captain Phillips stands as the British director’s finest achievement to date.

An honest dramatisation of real life events, Captain Phillips documents the hijacking of large cargo ship the Maersk Alabama by Somali pirates in April 2009. The ship’s captain, Richard Phillips, was taken hostage by the pirates and held prisoner until his rescue at the hands of Navy Seals five days later.

It is immediately clear that Captain Phillips is a classically “Greengrass” film. All of his trademarks are present; the handheld cameras, relentless close-ups, obsession with detail and the frenetic camera movement. Initially distancing, and occasionally frustrating, the shaky camera work and tight framing inject Captain Phillips with a claustrophobic sense of realism. One can see what Greengrass – a former documentarian himself – is attempting; this is a true story, and it should be told as realistically as possible.

Utterly absorbed in the smallest of details, Greengrass is determined to show both sides of the coin in this desperate tale of globalisation. Early in the film, Phillips confides in his wife that he fears for their children in a world that is rapidly changing. “You gotta be strong to survive out there” he frets. After immediately cutting to the Eastern coast of Africa, Greengrass strives to convey the hardships endured by the Somali pirates, led by the desperate Muse. The brutal circumstances endured by the Somalis leave the pirates with little choice. Muse later confesses to a disbelieving Phillips that he has only two options in life; fish, or hijack ships.

Greengrass stresses to establish that there are no heroes or villains in his film, only powerless victims of circumstance. Indeed, the even handed approach of Captain Phillips paints the pirates as the true victims; it is they who are ultimately doomed.

Ultimately, Richard Phillips is just a typical man, thrust into a perilous situation over which he, along with his captors, have little control. And when it comes to portraying the “everyman”, nobody does it better than Tom Hanks, who perfectly embodies the former cab driver Richard Phillips. It is in the film’s final stretch however, where Hanks moves into uncharted territory. Traumatised, terrified and exhausted, Phillips cool exterior finally capsizes in a touching display of raw emotion – masterfully portrayed by an almost unrecognisable Hanks.

Only a powerhouse performance from first-time Somali actor Barkhad Abdi prevents Hanks from stealing the show. Abdi’s portrayal of the desperado pirate Muse is undoubtedly a contender for debut of the year. Not at all intimidated by the screen presence of Hanks, Abdi dominates proceedings, his character at once a source of relentless danger and wistful empathy.

Captain Phillips only falters slightly when the action leaves the cargo ship. Once Phillips becomes entombed in the suffocating life raft with his captors, things slow down considerably. It’s a shame, because Greengrass has garnered thunderous momentum up until this point, only to let the narrative drift as the inevitable big finale looms ominously on the horizon.

Despite some minor flaws, Greengrass should be applauded for constructing a film that refuses to pull any punches. Captain Phillips is proof that movies can still be hugely intelligent without compromising on entertainment – now will someone please tell Michael Bay!?

Terrence Malick's the Tree of Life (2011)

Terrence Malick’s fifth film in four decades is inarguably an immensely personal endeavour. Awarded the treasured Palm D’Or at the Cannes film festival, the Tree of Life was simultaneously met with rigorous applause and derisive boos at its premier. Malick is renowned for his uncompromising cinematic vision, yet the Tree of Life has confused and divided audiences like never before.

The film chronicles the life of a young family growing up in Texas during the 1950’s, set against a backdrop of cosmic creation, universal inception and the end of life on earth. Oh, there are also some dinosaurs thrown in for good measure. If it sounds deep, that’s because it is. With the Tree of Life, Malick is fully committed to exploring the biggest question of all; what is the meaning of life?

Technically, Sean Penn is the film’s protagonist, yet his screen time is limited and his dialogue even more so. This isn't a criticism of Penn’s performance, on the contrary; his portrayal of the adult Jack is wrought with guilt and regret. Brad Pitt excels in the somewhat unflattering role of a domineering father at odds with the world and everything in it. The Tree of Life also happens to be the film that launched the now blossoming career of Jessica Chastain, who radiates compassion and grace in her splendid performance as the kind hearted mother of Jack. The real star performances of Tree of Life however, belong to the three young leads; Hunter McCracken, Laramie Eppler, and Tye Sheridan. McCracken in particular is spectacular as the troubled young Jack, desperately fighting to maintain his youthful innocence in the face of his advancing teenage years.

With the Tree of Life, Malick has created nothing short of a poet’s view of existence in this world.  The film pays little attention to narrative coherence, and instead demands that its audience observe, interpret and reflect upon events unfolding on screen. Never before has a film tackled themes of such tremendous weight, yet maintained enough emotional impact to resonate effectively with viewers. Kubrick’s masterful 2001: a Space Odyssey delved deep into philosophical debate and wowed audiences, yet left them cold and disengaged. The Tree of Life on the other hand, is malleable in its perception; the film itself is shaped by the very existential beliefs and ideas of the audience.

The Tree of Life plays host to an abundance of philosophical themes, yet most prevalent of all is the eternal struggle between nature and grace. Personified through the characters of Pitt and Chastain, the film explores the contrasting urges to satisfy basic human desires, and the will to show forgiveness, kindness, and mercy. Nature, like the character of Pitt, uses “fierce will” to get ahead in this world, whereas those who follow Chastain’s path of grace are able to live freely, accepting that many things are out with their control. Jack must navigate these conflicting ideals, resulting in an internal battle that demands the very essence of his youth; innocence.

At its core, the Tree of Life examines a man looking at his own existence, and what it means in relation to God and to the universe. The film seems to assert that everyone is connected, if only through the phenomenon of existence itself. Ultimately Malick would suggest that we are incapable of achieving true “meaning” within the context of the universe, but that our choices are of utmost importance to our own lives and of those around us – which is of significant meaning in itself.

For a film so ambitiously epic in scale and scope, the Tree of Life is able to connect on an extraordinarily intimate level. As he examines the loss of innocence, and the childhood realisation that the father figure is in fact fallible, Malick is trespassing on profoundly personal territory. Indeed, the Tree of Life is surely influenced at least in part by Malick’s own childhood. Growing up in Texas himself in the 1950’s, and losing a brother at a young age, the film certainly seems to carry an autobiographical overtone.

Impossibly ambitious, visually enthralling, and thematically dense, the Tree of Life is inarguably unique. Whilst certainly not to the taste of all, it would be foolish to deny the brilliance of Malick’s Magnum Opus. The dawdling pace and lack of linear narrative may be off putting to some, but even for non-Malick fans, this is downright essential viewing. Undoubtedly one of the very best films of the decade.

Criminally Underrated - Manhunter (1986)

Manhunter has lurked in the shadow of its big brother, Silence of the Lambs, ever since Jonathan Demme's disturbingly brilliant thriller met with huge critical and commercial success back in 1991. Yet Manhunter has it's fans. Despite amassing a feeble $8.6 million at the box office back in 1986, Michael Mann's take on the first Hannibal Lecter novel has developed a considerable cult following. Some even claim it's superior to Lambs itself. While I'm not entirely sold on that one, the quality of Manhunter is undeniable.

William Peterson (of CSI fame) stars as the troubled FBI agent responsible for apprehending the notorious Hannibal "the cannibal" Lecter. When serial killer "the tooth fairy" starts murdering entire families, leaving the FBI stumped, Graham has no choice but to offer his unique skill set in a desperate attempt to catch the killer before he strikes again.

First off, this film is infinitely superior to its glossy remake, Red Dragon. Not that Brett Ratner's offering is lacking in quality, it's just that Manhunter is an excellent example of what the modern thriller is capable of. Brian Cox is captivating as the evil Dr Lecter, and yes, he is every bit as good as Anthony Hopkins iconic portrayal of the same character. Cox has limited screen time to work with, but still succeeds in making a lasting impression. 

There is no doubt that Manhunter is immediately recognisable as a Michael Mann film. A pulsating synthetic soundtrack, and a colour palette dominated by cool blues and pale greens instantly give the game away. Even from a thematic perspective, the film screams Mann.

Dollarhyde, played here by Tom Noonan, offers a unique take on the serial killer stereotype. His villain is not a creation of pure evil, nor is he shown reveling in the anguish of his victims, instead, Mann paints Dollarhyde as the offspring of a broken society unable to effectively cater for his needs. We actually bear witness to very few of Dollarhyde's violent tendencies, Mann is instead content to examine the aftermath of the violence. Indeed, Graham's inspections of the victims houses are unbearably tense, and more than a little disturbing. Mann is not afraid to let his camera linger, motionless, long after the action is finished. Holding a shot for as long as it still contains power, we are encouraged to absorb every last creepy detail of his haunting film. 

Manhunter seems especially concerned with depicting the long term effects of cases like the Dollarhyde killings on the psyche of Graham. The film relentlessly highlights the vast similarities that exist between Graham and his psychotic prey. What Mann seems to be suggesting is that it's impossible to truly understand - and catch - a serial killer without becoming alike, at least to some degree. 

Mann would go on to explore the intense relationship between the hunter and the hunted in his 1995 crime saga, Heat. Like Heat, Manhunter is not concerned with the exploits of the antagonist; instead Mann is fascinated by the all-consuming chase, and the psychological toll it exerts on the hero. For Graham, perhaps the toil was worth it. Perhaps. But characters in Mann's later films don't always fair so well.

Easily standing as one of the finest films in the Hannibal Lecter saga, Mann's heavily stylized exploration of the true cost of catching a killer is fantastically enjoyable. Is it as good as Lambs? Maybe not. But it's every bit as enjoyable. Highly recommended.