The Man Who Killed Don Quixote

Directed by: Terry GilliamThe Man Who Killed Don Quixote

Written by: Terry Gilliam and Tony Grisoni

Produced by: Mariela Besuievsky, Gerardo Herrero, Amy Gilliam, Grégoire Melin, Sébastien Delloye

Starring: Adam Driver, Jonathan Pryce, Stellan Skarsgärd, Olga Kurylenko, Joana Ribeiro, Óscar Jaenada, Jason Watkins.

Thirty years in the making (and unmaking), director and writer, Terry Gilliam (The Fisher King, 12 Monkeys, Brazil, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas) was determined that, The Man Who Killed Don Quixote would be made.

Based on the famous classic novel, Don Quixote (The Ingenious Gentleman Sir Quixote of La Mancha) written by Miguel de Cervantes (in two parts in 1605 and 1615), the film echoes the metafiction view, where the fiction both creates and lays bare that illusion.

Lead Toby (Adam Driver), the director of the film, ‘The Man Who Killed Don Quixote’ (that’s just one of many circles within circles here in this film of the same name), wipes the English subtitles literally from the screen, announcing they’re not required – there’s that laying bare the illusion.

Here, we have a film about making a movie about Don Quixote while combining elements of the classic novel in Tody’s present.

No wonder the script was written and re-written for thirty years.

There’s even a documentary about the difficulties of making this film, ‘This hellish adventure […] captured in great detail in the documentary feature film, Lost in La Mancha (2002),’ if you’d like to explore further.

I myself was dubious setting out on this adventure, thankful the flashbacks weren’t an attempt to hark back to the 1600s.  That would have felt pat.  Instead we have a man driven insane by Tody’s college film, yep, ‘The Man Who Killed Don Quixote’, casting an old shoe-maker, Javier, (Jonathan Pryce), working in the small Spanish village, Los Sueños (Gallipienzo), where Toby decides to film his college project using real villages to avoid being cliché.

When Toby returns, years later, as a famous slick director, he finds the people of Los Sueños damaged after his last visit; the young and beautiful fifteen-year-old Angelica (Joana Ribeiro) broken while searching for the promise to be made a movie star, the shoe-maker cast as Don Quixote mad, with the belief he is the real, Don Quixote.

With events that range from amusing to the ridiculous (hence my initial dubious take of the film), Tody ends up in the unfortunate position of becoming the present day’s Don Quixote’s (AKA the shoe-maker) loyal squire, Sancho Panza.

This is where the movie starts to get somewhere: the slick director sitting atop a donkey, commanded by a crazy old man not afraid to hit him with a stick turns the ridiculous and amusing into outright funny.

Adam Driver as Toby bouncing off Jonathan Pryce as the mad pseudo Don Quixote make for some hilarious moments.  Only Jonathan Pryce could have pulled-off such a character, his theatre background pronouncing itself in the twinkle of a cheeky eye.

Then, as Tody gets more absorbed into his role as Sancho, the more dramatic and romantic the story as Angelica returns as the beautiful girl who needs saving from a Russian oligarch, Alexei Mishkin (Jordi Mollá) who ends up hosting a spectacular costume party in an ancient castle to celebrate Holy Week.

The setting of the film was shot in locations from Spain, Portugal and the Canary Island of Fuerteventura; ruins and castles including the Castillo de Oreja, Almonacid de Toledo and Monasterio de Piedra giving that Spanish flavour of Cervantes’ classic.

There’s also the addition of the Spanish guitar in the soundtrack and flamenco dancing with costuming that lift the film beyond the ridiculous into something more fantasy then drama or even comedy.  It’s all of it, rolled into an interpretation of the novel that mirrors Cervantes’ introduction of metafiction into the literary world, giving us that extra layer where the fiction is able to take a look at itself from the outside.

Not that the film dwells in this extra layer – this is more, a circle within a circle storyline that if you can get through the awkward moments at the beginning (Adam Driver helps here), then the reward is a film that successfully pushes the boundaries of cinematic perspective.

Johnny English Strikes Again

Rated: PGJohnny English Strikes Again

Directed by: David Kerr

Written by: William Davies

Produced by: Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner, Chris Clark

Starring: Rowan Atkinson, Ben Miller, Olga Kurylenko, Jake Lacy and Emma Thompson.

Rowan Atkinson returns as MI7 super-spy Johnny English in this third instalment of the series, Johnny English Strikes Again.

Now in retirement, he works as a geography teacher while secretly (always undercover) training new recruits in all things Intelligence, from camouflage, to late-night capture drills including man-traps (that he inevitably falls into), and the subtleties (or not so subtle) seduction techniques needed by all British spies worth their salt.

When MI7 is hacked and all the secret service agents are blown, the Prime Minister (Emma Thompson) already with her hands full running the country with a glass of red in hand, brings back agents from retirement to help find who’s behind the cyber-attacks.

English and Co.’s total lack of digital-savvy is pointed out by ever-loyal side-kick Bough (Ben Miller) as an (accidental) advantage when supervillains plan on taking over the world using technology – ‘I am Sander, I love data’, says the device held by tech-giant, Jason (Jake Lacy) – indeed.

Although the ever-persistent bumbling idiot, Johnny can still drive an Aston Martin and power-up magnetic boots when required – the villains ‘have to get up pretty early to outwit British Intelligence’.

Olga Kurylenko as the too-beautiful-to-be-bad Ophelia does well to keep a straight face.

This is a feature-film debut for director David Kerr, and this is certainly the best Johnny English so far. The material from writer William Davies and the surprising amount of attention to detail gives the film clever humour as well as being silly.

‘Oh look!  Sweeties!’ exclaims Bough when Johnny reveals a suitcase full of cotton-tip explosives, sherbet bombs with locating device and jelly teddies that blow your head off and the roof of the car if eaten.

And Rowan Atkinson is hilarious with his perfectly timed, subtle change in facial expression mixed with moments like the response to an obviously French waiter serving Champagne with, ‘Danke schön’.

It just tickles!

I was crying with laughter when Johnny was attacking the British public when accidently escaping a training compound with VR glasses on; the switching between the VR vision of him attacking an enemy to his covert behaviour in a bakery had me and my nephew in stitches.

I had a lot of fun watching this film with the constant asides (a selfie taken with the PM with the electronic, ‘needs photoshop’) that once tickled got me in hysterics with the more obvious, silly humour.

The Death Of Stalin

Rated: MA 15+The Death Of Stalin

Directed by: Armando Iannucci

Produced by: Yann Zenou, Laurent Zeitoun, Nicolas Duval Adassovski, Kevin Loader

Based on the comic books: THE DEATH OF STALIN by Fabien Nury and Thierry Robin

Original screenplay by: Fabien Nury

Written by: Armando Iannucci, David Schneider and Ian Martin

Additional material by: Peter Fellows

Starring: Steve Buscemi, Simon Russell Beale, Paddy Considine, Rupert Friend, Jason Isaacs, Olga Kurylenko, Michael Palin, Andrea Riseborough, Paul Chahidi, Dermot Crowley, Adrian Mcloughlin, Paul Whitehouse and Jeffrey Tambor.

The poster for, The Death Of Stalin warns: ‘A Comedy of Terrors’ –  I should have realised a film based on the days in the Soviet Union after Stalin’s death had senseless murder and mayhem.

I’m not saying there’s gratuitous blood and guts, but the ridiculous behaviour of those in power – Stalin’s Politburo including the security forces of the NKVD and The People’s Commissariat for Internal Affairs – who rape and murder while patting each other on the back astounds and at times, tickles:

‘When I piss I always try to make eye contact with an officer,’ says Malenkov (Jeffrey Tambor) to Khrushchev (Steve Buscemi) while peeing against a tree. ‘It ruins their day’.

The majority-rules-group-mentality spearheaded by the iron fist of Stalin unravels when he dies.  The fear felt by his people shown by the hesitation in speech, the inability to come to his aid when he strokes-out on the floor in his own ‘indignity’ because the soldiers are too scared to check what that thud on the floor actually means: What if nothing’s wrong?

So the soldiers wait until morning, safeguarding Stalin’s dying brain, waiting for the housekeeper to arrive with his morning tea.  All based on fact.

Writer-director, Armando Iannucci has created a dark satire that turns the facts into something so terrifying and ridiculous it’s funny.

Once Iannucci was on-board, the cast came together starring the likes of, Steve Buscemi, Michael Palin and Maria Yudina as the concert pianist, Olga Kurylenko: a solid cast working a dynamic script, much like the beloved communist dictum of a working machine focussing on the whole rather than its parts.

Although the decision was made to allow each actor their own native accent (rather than speak with a Russian inflection), it’s difficult to highlight any individual as they were all different yet essential in the ridiculousness of their nature: from the sad clown Malenkov who knows he’s way over his head as Stalin’s Number 2 (girdle included), to the sociopathic tub of evil genious, Beria (Simon Russell Beale), to Khrushchev (Steve Buscemi) who could make Stalin laugh; notes taken every night by his faithful wife, drunken quotes read in the morning to remember topics that worked to those that didn’t to CAAAAA: the sound of a throat being cut.

In other words, he’s on, The List.

The Death of Stalin is gallows humour with the back and forth of words spoken with a blank face changing the meaning so it was more about the way the words were spoken and how best not to get caught saying them.

I expected a laugh-out-loud comedy but the truth of evil doesn’t allow for that; it’s hard to let go of the terror.  Instead, there’s a quick brilliancy; a film of dialogue that could be played out on stage including gems like, ‘Can you ever trust a weak man?’

The film tickled with subtle comment by walking the fine line between the seriousness of committing mass murder against the humour terror brings when people are behaving at their evil worst.

With so many layers it’s a film I’d watch again.

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