Empire of Light

Off Your Meds

or

"Check For Sleepers"

 

They say that every great film is a miracle—there is that magic "something" beyond the basics—the proverbial good script brought to life by great performances from actors well-cast and fit their roles like gloves. If you keep it in focus and the director doesn't try to do gymnastics with the camera to the point where you can't follow it, it's all good. 

 

But, you need that spark, whether by design or accident, to make a great film.

 

Empire of Light, Sam Mendes' new film, aspires to that. But, it's not as illuminating as it wants to be. 

 

Not for want of wattage, however. The performances are great—you expect that from Olivia Colman and Toby Jones and Colin Firth. And Mendes has a real "find" in Micheal Ward, who, though I'm sure he rehearsed and prepared and strategized for his role, does indeed have that magical spark that actors can't control—the camera loves him. It catches every thought that crosses Ward's face and communicates it clearly to the audience.

No, the problem lies in the script—Mendes' own—in that it is trying to do too many things while trying to tie the issues into a metaphor for film that doesn't quite work. Oh, it makes a nice transitory thought, but it's a flawed metaphor that doesn't have the sprocket-holes to last an entire film.

It is 1980 in the coastal village of Margate and the Empire Cinema is a movie theater/former restaurant-bar-and-ballroom that is now reduced to just two large screen theaters. We meet Colman's character, Hilary, who is the manager of The Empire and has just returned—tentatively—from a medical leave where she was at a psychiatric hospital. Evidently, there was "an incident" and she was incarcerated against her will. That's the past. She's taking her Valium and all her co-employees welcome her back with the edge of "Yes, yes, we all know what she did" in the background.

But, she's back to it, albeit a bit shyly, but you have to wonder why she came back. She doesn't go to films—never has—and her boss, the rather oily Donald Ellis (Firth) is in the habit of asking her to talk in the office which usually ends up with a shag on his desk, nothing exciting and not even with enough energy to topple the picture of his wife sitting on it. Then, there's Norman the projectionist (Jones), who's just enough of an introvert that no one minds that he spends all his time in the booth tending to the spooling and un-spooling of films.

But, a big event is coming up—the Empire is going to be holding the local premiere of Chariots of Fire and it's going to be quite the to-do. Ellis staffs up with a new recruit hiring Stephen (Ward), a work-horse of a different color—he's black (everybody else is "pale"—it's England). But, Stephen is affable, cute, and gets along with everybody, and pretty soon he's ingratiated himself with the staff, who start to see him as Stephen, rather than "the black kid." Hilary is particularly taken with Stephen—after a brief dust-up—for his fascination with the grand old building they work in and the informed and tender way he treats a wounded pigeon he finds in The Empire's abandoned upper floor.

This leads, impractically, (SPOILER ALERT) to an affair between the two where their genuine affection for each other turns physical. And to the complications that occur with a May-December romance when one of the participants self-isolates and is on mood-altering medications. One should not expect things to go smoothly, even with Lithium in the mix, but they'll go really south without it. Taking pills is not normal—unless you LIKE taking pills—and every dose reminds you of your weakness. And when "things are going good" there is the temptation to think "well, I don't need them now" and you stop taking them, like blithely taking a bottom piece out of a Jenga tower. Rinse and repeat. The Circle Game.

Which may be Mendes' point in a oddly circuitous way. At one point—when Hilary has crashed and gone back to hospital—there is a series of sequences where Toby Jones' Norman takes Stephen under his wing, showing him his sanctum of a projection booth and explaining "the trick" of the movies. They're just individual pictures running through the projector at 24 frames per second, each picture separated by a black border. But, due to a flaw in the human optic nerve, we don't see that black border, we only see the individual pictures rolling through, simulating the pace of real life. It's an illusion. It's magic. It's making the best out of a defect.

The way Mendes ends the movie—with a celebration of change, an acknowledgement of seasons, the patterns of a life and a life cycle—makes the film-metaphor of bright/dark/bright/dark a little precious and makes me think that one of the side effects of the pandemic was making directors nostalgically contemplative (and forget that they're not working with film anymore—try and make a metaphor out of digital media!). It doesn't quite work. Nor does the sub-plot of Hilary toiling away at a movie theater and not wanting to watch movies.* What would cause such a preference, I wonder? And I came up with no explanations. 

Nor did I "buy" that experiencing "the movies" would be such a glorious experience (even though I'm an obsessive about movies) that it would raise your spirits to curb—albeit briefly—a depressive's mood (despite the lessons of directors Preston Sturges and Woody Allen**). That trick doesn't always work, especially if you're going to a Bergman movie! No, movies are not cure-all's for what ails you. As one of my favorite Princess Bride lines goes: "Life is pain, Princess. Anyone telling you different is selling something." It may make them weepy at the Motion Picture Academy, but, then, they're selling something.

 

It just doesn't hang together. There are too many sub-plots and black-lines in the film to cross over for it to gel into a movie. But, on the plus side, any movie shot by Roger Deakins is worth watching at least once. And he never disappoints.

* Okay, I can understand this in a way. I used to work at a call-center, and the last thing I would want to do when I got home was talk to somebody on a phone. And despite the evidence I've seen, I continue to hold to the belief that somebody who works at McDonald's would prefer to eat at anyplace else but McDonald's. However, I've rarely seen a multi-plex employee not want to sit in on a movie...and do so.

 

** We're thinking of Sullivan's Travels and Hannah and Her Sisters here.

 

Oh. And I am selling something. There's a discussion of the film here (on the weekly Lambcast) that I participated in. It's a podcast. Don't worry, you don't have to see me. 

Don't Make a Scene: SPECTRE

The Story: A new James Bond film comes out this week (on this side of the pond; your friends in England have already ruined it for you, probably). And No Time To Die, being part of the Daniel Craig canon, is heavy on continuity from film to film.

That's not the way it was in "the old days." Back then, from every Bond from Connery to Brosnan, the continuity was—well, there wasn't much! The series would re-cast C.I.A. agent Felix Leiter in every film. Heck, there have been six actors who've played James Bond (name them, but you're probably forgetting George Lazenby...or Timothy Dalton) in the series! Only one actress has played a recurring Bond girlfriend (that would be Eunice Gayson and she was phased out after the second film); "Bond-girls" would wind up in a clinch with 007 at the end of each film and never be seen or heard from again. Not even mentioned.

Well, the new one features the one who has survived. At the end of SPECTRE, Bond is seen motoring away in his Aston Martin with Dr. Madeleine Swann in the passenger seat, both of them with smug, satisfied smiles on their faces. And she's back in the new one! No more mooning over Vesper Lynd, the woman who betrayed Bond in Casino Royale! Bond has moved on...

So, who is she? Well, in the Craig films, it seems everybody is related to somebody else, and Dr. Swann is the daughter of the mysterious Mr. White, who has been in the majority of the last few films. Seems he was a bad guy who did a lot of work for the nesting dolls of Evil Empires that have plagued Bond lately. And, since she's in the Craig era when Bond's psyche and background are the highest priority, it's only appropriate that she's a shrink. In this era, he needs someone just like her—Daniel Craig's Bond has issues!

In this scene, she does a little analysis—there was a similar scene in Skyfall—and they don't exactly get off on the right foot.

 

The Set-Up: James Bond (Daniel Craig) has gone rogue again. On a tip from his former boss "M" (Dame Judi Dench), he ran down to Mexico to take out a terrorist involved in a string of bombings. Then, after a reprimand from the new "M" (Ralph Fiennes), he has secretly gone to Rome to visit the bad guy's widow, which leads him to the board meeting of a criminal organization and one of its operatives—one he's met before—"Mr. White" (Jesper Christensen) who, before he takes his own life, requests Bond to protect his only remaining relative, his daughter (Lea Seydoux), who may be next on the "hit list."

 

Action.

 

INT. CLINIC, EXAMINATION ROOM, AUSTRIA - DAY 

Bond enters.

The impressive snowscape behind the floor-to-ceiling window provides all the decoration this room needs.

Until he spots MADELEINE SWANN across the room at her desk.

MADELEINE SWANN: Please, take a seat. I'll be with you in just a moment. 

Mr. White's daughter is beautiful. She speaks into a DICTATION PHONE under her breath, finishing up her notes on the previous patient.

MADELEINE: (into recorder, in French. No subtitles)...following blood-tests on Monday, patient was diagnosed with subacute thyroiditis suspected to be linked with a pituitary gland malfunction. 

She crosses the room carrying her clipboard, to the window still talking into her dictation machine. Bond watches her intently.

MADELEINE: ...Patient to receive a single course of carbimazole, in conjunction with CBT and cranio-sacral therapy.

She presses stop.

MADELEINE: Please excuse me,... 

MADELEINE: ...Mr. Bond. 

MADELEINE: My name is Dr. Madeleine Swann. Our job today is to analyze your needs,...

MADELEINE: ...both psychological and physical to best prescribe bespoke therapy to put you on the path to a rejuvenated and healthful lifestyle.

JAMES BOND: Hmm, sounds pretty straightforward.

She walks over to the wall and pulls down a blind.

MADELEINE: I hope you don't mind. The view can be distracting. 

BOND: I hadn't noticed.

She looks up from her clipboard and catches his eye for the first time; but if she catches his inference she doesn't show it.

MADELEINE: I see you filled out most of the paperwork. 

MADELEINE: Just a few questions to complete your evaluation, if I may. Do you exercise? 

BOND: When I have to. 

MADELEINE: Do you consider your employment to be psychologically stressful? 

BOND: On occasion. Sometimes.

MADELEINE: Do you have trouble sleeping?

BOND: Only when I'm alone.

She pauses slightly, doesn't look up.

MADELEINE: How much alcohol do you consume? 

BOND: As much as is necessary. Too much.

She looks up at him. He gives nothing away.

MADELEINE: Some broader questions. 

MADELEINE: As a child, would you say you were close to your parents? 

BOND: My parents died when I was young. 

MADELEINE: Really? How old? 

BOND: Eleven. Old enough to remember. 

MADELEINE: How, if I may ask?

BOND: It was a climbing accident. 

She looks up at him.

MADELEINE: So you grew up where?

BOND: Here and there.

She looks at him levelly. Returns to her questions.

MADELEINE: So who brought you up? 

BOND: (dismisses it) Someone else. 

BOND: Humor me. How does one train at Oxford and the Sorbonne, become a consultant, spend two years with Medecins Sans Frontires 

BOND: ...and end up here? 

BOND: Forgive me, but anyone might think you were hiding from something.

MADELEINE: You're paying a lot of money to be here, Mr. Bond. 

MADELEINE: Who's asking the questions, you or me? 

BOND: Of course. Carry on. 

MADELEINE: I see you left this final question blank. What is your occupation? 

BOND: Well, that's not the sort of thing that looks good on a form. 

MADELEINE: And why is that? 

BOND: I kill people. 

She looks back at him, turns cold.

BOND: Small world, eh?

She realizes what he means. Puts her paperwork down.

MADELEINE: Where is he? 

BOND: Your father's dead. 

BOND: Two days ago. 

MADELEINE: How do you know? 

BOND: Because I was there. 

MADELEINE: Did you kill him? 

BOND: I didn't have to. 

BOND: He did it himself.

MADELEINE: Were you friends?

BOND: No.

She regards him, fighting her emotions. 

MADELEINE: And you came all the way just to tell me this? That your enemy my father's dead? 

BOND: I came to tell you that your life is in danger and I need your help. 

MADELEINE: Why?

BOND: Your father worked for someone who views emotional attachments as Fair Game. I made a deal with him... 

BOND: ...to protect you. 

MADELEINE: You're lying. Why would he trust you? 

BOND: Because he knew that I needed something in return. 

MADELEINE: And what was that? 

BOND: To find L'Americain.

She turns stone cold.

MADELEINE: This interview is over.

He stands, moves to her, she flinches back.

BOND: Dr. Swann... 

MADELEINE: You have 10 minutes to leave the building. Then I'm calling security.

She heads to the door, opens it.

Bond sees THE RECEPTIONIST outside the room. Doesn't want to make a scene.

BOND: I gave him my word.

MADELEINE: What does that even mean to people like you?

BOND: Thank you, Dr. Swann.

Bond leaves.

Madeleine stands, shaken.

SPECTRE

 

Words by Neal Purvis, Robert Wade, John Logan and Jez Butterworth

 

Pictures by Hoyte van Hoytema and Sam Mendes

 

SPECTRE is available on DVD and Blu-Ray from M-G-M and Fox Home Video.