Never Look Away and Gladiator II are in cinemas, Music by John Williams is streaming on Disney+
Last week was a busy one for writing broadcasting but a little less so for watching. The third review in today’s newsletter is actually an extract pointing at a longer version on the RNZ website, hence this edition will stay on the free side of the paywall.
Also, for those paying close attention, Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point was a new release in New Zealand but a shortage of available screens meant no sessions in my home town of Wellington. We’ll see if we can fix that for next week.
When I recommended Alex Garland’s Civil War here the other day, I didn’t think that I would be revisiting it quite so quickly but Lucy Lawless’s new documentary about fearless photojournalist Margaret Moth, Never Look Away, prompted me to think about it all over again.
In my review, I said I thought that Garland was less interested in the geo-political circumstances for his story than he was about the kind of character who goes chasing wars the way that the scientists in Twister chase tornados.
As vivid detail after vivid detail is revealed in Lawless’s film, I found myself wondering whether Garland might wish to have his time over and start his film again. Moth is a huge character, with giant appetites, and she makes the fictional versions in Civil War look terribly tame.
Moth was born Margaret Wilson in 1950s Gisborne, New Zealand, and one of the fascinations of her story is the New Zealand-ness of it. Her family straddled the common-at-the-time line between loveless and abusive and she was determined to get out as soon as she could. The Swinging 60s beckoned the young adult Margaret (eventually taking the name Gipsy Moth) and she was determined to enjoy everything that era offered – drugs, sex and adventure.
After working as a camerawoman for the BCNZ, she went to the States in 1980 and began working in local television in Texas, making a name for herself as someone who would rather chase storms – see the Twister reference above – than school board election press conferences.
The new invention of 24-hour cable news needed talent and she was soon working for CNN, eventually – like a true citizen of the world – travelling to hotspots in Africa, Eastern Europe and the Balkans.
In Sarajevo in 1992 the convoy she was in came under fire in “Sniper Alley” and she took a bullet to the face, losing most of her jaw and tongue. She was, of course, lucky to be alive, but she went back to work as soon as she should, eventually even returning to Bosnia.
Never Look Away is the first film by the Xena actor Lucy Lawless and it is impossible to take your eyes off – Never Look Away indeed. Moth appears to have been something of an enigma to the ex-lovers who tell most of the story of her early life, and an inspiration to the journalist colleagues who tell the rest of it, but it presents the world of the war zone correspondent with gusto.
Before Gladiator in 2000, Russell Crowe was a character actor who could lead films. Best known for Romper Stomper and The Sum of Us in Australia and then L.A. Confidential and The Insider in the States, when Gladiator came along he was ready to take the step up to full-fledged movie stardom. Most importantly, he knew what was required to turn a performance from something that was simply believable to something that could inhabit all corners of a giant screen.
It’s the difference between a performance that asks the audience to come to you and a performance that goes out and grabs them. It’s a distinction that Paul Mescal – a very fine actor – hasn’t quite managed to pull off in his first attempt in Gladiator II. Mescal’s calling cards so far have been the slightly unknowable young men at the centre of Aftersun and All of Us Strangers, emphasising interior truth but not much interested in ingratiating himself to his audience.
He plays Lucius, the son of Crowe’s Maximus – there was a clue in his name, wasn’t there – the rightful heir to the throne of Rome, sent away by his mother for his own safety. As an adult, he is living peacefully and happily in Northern Africa when Rome – running out of worlds to conquer – comes to invade. His wife is killed and he is captured, transported back to Rome to be a gladiator slave like his father.
Mescal has the physical chops to pull of the fighting part of the job but retreats into himself the rest of the time, ceding the screen to a real movie star, Denzel Washington. As the former gladiator who discovers who Lucius really is, and uses him for his own political ends, Washington doesn’t wait for us. The only problem with him is that his character chooses to remain opaque, but that’s the most interesting part of the story.
Content to ride on the coattails of its predecessor, Ridley Scott’s production never rises above lacklustre and that’s largely down to the empty space Mescal leaves at the heart of it.
I reviewed Music by John Williams for RNZ’s flagship film show, At the Movies, last Wednesday and the web team turned it into an article here:
Music by John Williams brought me so much happiness that I had to go right back to the beginning and watch it again.
A film that reminded me why I got into this business in the first place, a film that will send you back to your DVD collection, your favourite streaming service or – if you’re lucky – your local video store.
The new documentary Music by John Williams restores your faith in the power of cinema to transport you – to make your day better, your life better, the world around you look and feel better.
John Williams is 92 years old and still working. His most recent score was for Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny last year.
I thought I knew a thing or two about the great man – after all I know so many of his iconic themes – but this film told me so much more. He was already 40-years-old, and had been working in Hollywood as a musician, arranger and composer for 16 years, when fresh-faced Steven Spielberg knocked on his door to ask about The Sugarland Express in 1974.
You can read the rest at the link but I’d rather you listened to the segment as the clips from the film are really well-chose and well-integrated, even if I do say so myself. It’s my favourite At the Movies piece I’ve ever done.
