The Bank Job

Surprisingly based on a true story, The Bank Job follows a group of amateur crooks who find themselves positioned as pawns in a series of political manoeuvres. MI5 up-and-comer Tim Everett (Richard Linten) is on a mission to retrieve highly incriminating photographs from a local bank vault, but the catch is that he can not leave behind any trace of his involvement. He operates through the street-savvy Martine Love (Saffron Burrows), and she’s the one who seductively lures Terry Leather (Jason Statham) and his friends out of small-time crime and into serious business. Throw in a Trinidadian thug, a manipulative bordello owner and a handful of corrupt police, and things are bound to get a little complicated. Full kudos are due to the screenwriters for negotiating this twisted storyline with such skill and flexibility. The Bank Job will sweep you up and into this fantastically convoluted journey, and yet it retains that rare ability to make an audience laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of its narrative.

Roger Donaldson’s directing is pitch-perfect. His last cinematic effort, The World’s Fastest Indian, was bloated by its own sense of self-importance, and was all about the heavy emotional scores, trite dialogue and tear-jerking character developments. Donaldson seems much more comfortable back in the action genre, working with a film that refreshingly operates under no such false pretences. From its title to final credits, The Bank Job is unashamedly a heist film, and we’re all the better for it. The characters are all recognisable (Tim Everett channels something of James Bond and every archetypical villain is present in full form), but somehow they become all the more enjoyable in their supposed realism. And, even though these criminals lack the pure charisma of Danny Ocean and co., there’s something quite amiable about their never-ending blundering and that manages to keep us on their side the whole way through. This is heist the way it should be; tense, yet not without a sense of fun.

The Savages

Initially, The Savages does not feel particularly special. The heavy tehmes channel that all-too-familiar vibe of emotional family dramas, while the characters' almost comical squabbles suggest the film might be destined to end up on that ever-growing pile of quirky indie comedies. The strength of The Savages, however, lies in its ability to play up to both these images at once; serving up refreshingly real humour alongside a delicate insight into old age and its impact upon family members. Two of Hollywood’s most intriguing actors, Laura Linney and Phillip Seymour-Hoffman, play estranged siblings who are forced back into each other’s lives after their father’s girlfriend dies, leaving him alone with steadily advancing dementia. In adulthood the two have grown apart, but this reunion forces them back into long-forgotten roles as they struggle to look after a father who could never take care of them.

Siblings offer a veritable minefield of subject material for filmmakers, yet they appear relatively rarely, and it is even rarer to find siblings handled with such nuanced realism. Writer and director Tamara Jenkins (The Slums of Beverley Hills) has managed to perfectly sculpt that dynamic which is so particular to siblings, seeping it into their every exchange and sideways glance. Linney and Hoffman are perfectly cast, and admirably manoeuvre through the contradictions and complexities at play in their relationship, as they simultaneously strive to prove themselves and to prove their apparent indifference. Alongside them, all the other characters and sub-plots fade into insignificance; even their father is nothing more than the catalyst that brings the two back together. Arguably, some will find this frustrating, but for those in search of a relationship portrait with some fine-tuned performances, The Savages delivers. Delicately insightful and quietly thought-provoking, it makes an ideal compliment to this wintery climate.

Selected Rev Reviews

Complete with special effects, ghosts and bizarre science-fiction contraptions, Revelation’s opening night film, Island of Lost Souls, is not as far removed from the Harry Potter school of thought as the festival’s programme would have you believe – not that that makes it any less enjoyable. A fantastical romp into the realm of the supernatural, this Danish feature follows the strong-willed Lulu as she attempts to free a 19th century ghost from the body of her younger brother. A healthy dose of self-referential quips help lighten the mood, while powerful performances from the child actors keep up the suspension of disbelief. It’s very much a children’s story, but free-spirited adults should find this film an enjoyable ride.

Those who demand more serious drama might be better off with the French film, Le France, a love story set against the grey backdrop of World War I. After Camille (Sylvie Testud), receives a dejected letter from her beloved soldier husband, she cuts off her hair and binds her breasts in the hopes of joining a passing regiment to find out what went wrong. Pleasantly devoid of any war film conventions, director Serge Bozon has approached this distinct historical period with a unique stylistic and narrative vision (for example, Beatles-inspired pop songs break up the soldiers’ wanderings). Although at times Le France does lag, and Bozon’s slightly disengaged treatment of the characters can get a little frustrating, the film offers lingering rewards. Quietly thought-provoking, it will leave you pondering its meaning for quite some time.

Out of the myriad of music documentaries on this year’s programme, The Weird Old America: Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music is a stand-out. An eccentric philosopher/filmmaker/painter, Harry Smith is most famous for releasing a box set of folk song re-issues in the mid-1950s, and inspiring a resurgence of interest in the genre throughout America. This documentary traces his life, his projects and his influence, as a new generation of folk artists gather to celebrate Harry Smith’s contribution through five tribute concerts. Though not particularly revolutionary in its form, The Weird, Old America… presents a balanced mix of interviews and archive footage with performances from Nick Cave, Beck and Sonic Youth, amongst many others. The film’s enthusiasm for folk music is infectious, and at the very least this is a must-see for fans of the genre.