Weekend

Tags

2010's, Andrew Haigh, Chris New, Drama, Romance, Tom Cullen, Weekend

Film Title

Weekend

Director

Andrew Haigh

Starring

• Tom Cullen as Russell
• Chris New as Glen

A deeply arresting and genuine movie by writer/director Andrew Haigh about a chance encounter that segues into an unprepared, romantic connection between two men, Weekend is an intimate experience that reveals a personal and poignant story of finding what could be love in a short space of time.

In Nottingham, Russell is a relatively shy gay man who works as a lifeguard. While out of the closet, you get the feeling he’s not too comfortable with expressing his sexuality or embracing it. After a few drinks with his straight friends one Friday evening, he heads to a gay bar. Here he picks up Glen, who he takes back to his flat and they have sex. The next morning is when we learn more about both men. Glen is outgoing, assertive in his sexual preference and often defensive, whereas Russell has trouble really opening up and letting his guard down. Glen is doing an art project and recording the experiences he has with other men. At first, Russell feels very awkward at doing this but as talkative and commitment phobic Glen wins him over, the dynamic between them changes. What was expected to just be a bit of fun and mainly a one-night stand transforms into something very different for both of them over the weekend. Russell and Glen get more acquainted with each other as they meet up, do drugs, have sex and most importantly, forge something meaningful and not at all what either planned. Russell begins to remove the barriers he put up, while Glen struggles to come to terms with his longing for Russell that put at risk his phobia of commitment. As the connection grows and they both get more comfortable with each other, they have to contend with where this unexpected, romantic bond will go for both of them and what the future may hold as Glen will soon be leaving to live in America.

Andrew Haigh, who would later go on to direct the equally impressive 45 Years, really contributes a personal feeling to the film. As director and writer, his dialogue is so authentic and realistic that you often find yourself remembering that it is a film and not just watching two real people go through this. That’s the power of the film, you really get that intimacy and sincerity of real life through the journey of both men, figuring out what is next on the cards for them. Haigh discovers humour, pathos and romance in the gradual attraction of Russell and Glen, rounding out events with a real slice of life quality. The usage of natural lighting grounds everything in a realistic fashion, not needing any fancy edits or oodles of style to get to the point. Everything has a feeling of being a fly on the wall, which adds to the growing intimacy of the two men and the audience. Situations that are familiar to all of us; the first meaningful conversation, uneasy coming clean with buried angst and the connection of physical pleasure are all here in observant and clear-eyed fashion. Even the two main sex scenes, which while revealing and holding nothing back, have a depth as they showcase the changing dynamic of the relationship. In them, you can see these two people gaining acceptance and converging in a physical and mental way and finding solace and perhaps something else in each other’s arms . There are no big, melodramatic declarations of true love, overt tragedy or sappy ending to be found in Weekend, it is too perceptive and honest for that sort of thing. Instead, a sensitive bond that may be uncertain and unsteady yet loaded with unexpected connection forms between Russell and Glen, and is beautiful to observe. Now there are many that might label Weekend just a gay movie that only has limited appeal in terms of audience, but that does it a major disservice as it has things that will appeal to all walks of life. Topics of conversation may include aspects of defining homosexuality and prejudice, but the story itself has a far-reaching thematic value that is complimented by these insights. To be honest, the fear of getting close, awkwardness of realising attraction and confronting fears are the biggest points of the film that are observed with nuance and . I believe that anyone, no matter what your sexual orientation, will find something relatable and truthful in Weekend. It simply has a really intimate way of expressing itself through meaningful situations that seem real( as opposed to Hollywood gloss) and having a refreshing maturity and sincerity to them. And it doesn’t become pat or obvious in the long run either. As the title suggests, the film takes place within a short period of time. But that doesn’t mean that weekend is at all rushed. It favours the progressing approach that truly fleshes out both men and allows for souls to be bared and contemplate their feelings. Now if that sounds like the same old story that’s been done before, nothing could be further from the truth in Weekend. Sure are opposites who are attracted to each other, but it’s the almost documentary like execution of the piece that feels almost like a chamber work that lends a beautiful openness and emotional heft to it.

At the centre of it all are two marvellously engaging and natural performances from Tom Cullen and Chris New. Cullen possesses an affable but introverted manner that is perfectly used for Russell, who is often the more quiet of the two and not quite comfortable in his skin just yet. Complimenting this awkwardness is the bravado of Chris New, who lets us glimpse his characters reasoning for not wanting a relationship and how his show of brash attitude is something of a mask. Both performances are nuanced and organic, aiding the realistic tone of the movie and presenting two well-rounded individuals questioning things they never thought they’d have too. Plus, the burgeoning chemistry between the two is gradual and completely honest in every way. These two are simply sublime in a film that touches the soul and highlights how sometimes its easier to open up to a stranger than someone close.

A sensitive, heartfelt movie that boasts a naturalistic dialogue and unaffected, organic performances from the two leads, Weekend is a touching, perceptive and engaging film of two people finding an unexpected bond that will resonate with everyone for its universal messages and truths.

The Theory of Everything

Tags

2010's, Based on a true story, Biopic, Charlie Cox, David Thewlis, Drama, Eddie Redmayne, Emily Watson, Felicity Jones, James Marsh, Maxine Peake, Simon McBurney, Stephen Hawking, The Theory of Everything

Film Title

The Theory of Everything

Director

James Marsh

Starring

• Eddie Redmayne as Stephen Hawking
• Felicity Jones as Jane Hawking
• Charlie Cox as Jonathan
• David Thewlis as Dennis Sciama
• Simon McBurney as Frank Hawking
• Emily Watson as Beryl Wilde
• Maxine Peake as Elaine

A soaring and immensely moving movie based on the journey of Stephen Hawking and his first wife Jane, as they defied the odds stacked against them, The Theory of Everything has both emotion and insight into a brilliant mind that refused to be halted, despite the dark prognosis given to him and how his wife persevered and supported him.

We begin with Stephen Hawking in 1963 where he is a theoretical physics student at Cambridge. He is especially gifted at maths and curious about cosmology, yet hasn’t decided on what to do for a thesis. Around this time, he meets pretty literature student Jane. Both are of different ideals; Stephen believing in stars and science, while Jane is more artistic and a believer in God. Both start to fall in love and Stephen also begins to become interested in studying time for his thesis. Yet his burgeoning relationship with Jane and are dealt a devastating blow. His muscles start to play up and after a nasty fall and examination, he is diagnosed with ALS; which directly affects muscles, the body and eventually his ability to walk, speak and breath. He is also told that he only has around two years to live. Reeling from this, Stephen throws himself into his theories and attempts to push Jane away, but she refuses as she is deeply in love with him. Together, they marry, have children and instead of giving up, continue to face the hardships of his condition head on. Yet as time goes on, Stephen’s condition worsens and it takes a toll on Jane. She dearly loves him, but the strain of his debilitating body and dependence on her is becoming more difficult to bear. Stephen excels with his theories and experiences success as a respected scientist speaking of the universe and how it came to be, but can obviously see that his condition is not something he can just ignore. As everything grows more testing, Stephen and Jane are forced to confront what to do next, despite their deep love for the other.

James Marsh sensitively directs this biopic with a clear understanding of visual and emotional depth. In terms of pacing, he pitches things just at the right speed, only tripping up sometimes and rarely at that. Other than that, Marsh has a good eye for pattern and symmetry, particularly in reference to Stephen’s study represented by swirling and circular spirals. Kudos must be awarded to the cinematography in this biopic that practically shimmers and lends a hopefulness to what is already a highly moving and extraordinary story. The occasional use of an old style camera, complete with grain and colour abrasion, is also notable in capturing the changing events and as a passage of time for the couple. It’s the emotional core of Stephen and Jane that really stands out the most, as they take on the deafening odds and continue to challenge what they’ve been told. We are invested in their love for each other; we get to glimpse those moments when both realise that it’s not as easy or as straightforward as love just being enough, yet there is still a very touching sense of bond that transcends all the darkness they endure. Both may overcome severe obstacles thrown at them, but there’s a refreshing honesty to The Theory of Everything that underlines how even the strongest of loves can be shaken and pushed to breaking point. Overall, it’s the inspiring nature of the story that is what sells The Theory of Everything, depicting Stephen’s refusal to stop working and Jane’s backbone of steel in supporting him. The resilience that both of them show and went through for real is simply outstanding, considering the initially dire outcome that was predicted for Stephen upon diagnosis. Pathos and uplifting moments are frequently employed and add significantly to the difficult journey of Stephen and Jane; one that is testing as it is rewarding. Some may quibble with the often sprightly pace of the film which only occasionally gets in the way. Though saying that, as the story covers such a large area of time, it seems only right to cut any flab and focus on the emotional and personal crux of it all. In that sense, it cuts straight to the heart of the deeply engaging and honest story observed. And while it does that, it still takes time, especially in the beginning to foreshadow the decline of Stephen’s health through various hints. I simply have to commend the score of this movie that moves through lovely rhythms and melancholy moods with a clear command and soulfulness. It brings out such a richly evocative to an already

What really invests your heart and soul in is the two sublime performances from Eddie Redmayne and Felicity Jones. Eddie Redmayne, in an Oscar-winning performance, is a physical and emotional marvel as the renowned Stephen Hawking. He completely transforms into the part; displaying the deep intellect of his mind, ability to crack a joke even in dire situations and in latter stages when his condition has rendered him unable to speak and largely paralysed, his face and eyes say so much to us all. We truly feel the palpable toll his diagnosis takes on him, but how he is not going to simply give up on his dreams. The difficulties of Stephen’s deterioration physically only seem to make his mind more determined to thrive, a quirk that Redmayne fully explores and exudes with clear nuance and clarity. He is so invested in role that you forget that it’s an actor playing a part, such is the conviction and dedication to the task of playing Hawking that Redmayne does with every fibre of his being. Redmayne fully warranted the Oscar he received for his powerful performance here. No less excellent or beautifully nuanced is Felicity Jones as his wife Jane. Jones has that ability to really suggest her innermost feelings without saying a word, as it is clearly written over her face. This skill is wonderfully employed in a sensitive performance of immense strength and vulnerability from the talented Jones. Jane is a lovely person but no pushover and a compelling force of inspiration, who can be a stalwart rock but is not immune to feelings of sadness and deep uncertainty. Both stars have a sensitive and deeply felt bond with each other that resonates deeply and will stir your feelings. Supporting players are finely chosen, with Charlie Cox, David Thewlis, Simon McBurney, Emily Watson and Maxine Peake fleshing it out. But the film ultimately belongs to Redmayne and Jones.

Anchored by two beautiful performances and strikingly directed and scored, The Theory of Everything celebrates strength and love in the face of adversity. Plus, it allows an understanding into the mind of Hawking and how he triumphed, with help from Jane, to become the respected man he is still now.