No is Pablo Larraín’s final film in a trilogy that has thus far explored the origins of General Augusto Pinochet’s Chilean dictatorship through to its most violent moments. No completes the story by addressing the deposition of Pinochet in this brilliantly conceived film inspired by actual events.

Gael García Bernal performs with quiet intensity the role of advertising executive René Saavedra, the central figure. He is invited to spearhead the campaign to vote against Pinochet in the 1988 plebiscite, to convince a country shaped by fear and a violent past that there is hope for the future. And despite resistance from many of his colleagues, he decides to focus not on the suffering endured under Pinochet, but instead on the hope of future happiness; ‘Happiness is coming if you vote No’.

This lighthearted approach affords Larraín more than a little room for comedy. It is dark but often subtle, acknowledging both the weight of the subject matter and René’s confidence in his upbeat, sometimes almost tacky advertising tools. Perhaps it is no surprise, then, that Luis Gnecco, one of Chile’s most popular comedic actors, was cast in a major role.

However, there is plenty of material to counterbalance the positivity generated by Gael García Bernal’s portrayal of the film’s self-possessed hero. Encouraged by Director of Photography Sergio Armstrong, Larraín decided to use a 1983 U-matic video camera to shoot his footage, so that it could be easily integrated with real-life footage shot at the time. Not only that, but many of the cast are people who were involved with the 1988 campaign. The result is a sense of immediacy and true passion for the subject. There are even cameo roles for the two men at the forefront of the real ‘No’ campaign, ironically portrayed as Pinochet supporters. However, the obvious downside to this method of filming is that it lacks the sharp focus that would have helped anchor the characters to the country they fought for. The scenes jump rapidly from city-based to beautiful Chilean panoramas, but the nature of the film and the constant close-up shots loses a lot of this diversity.

But the pay-off is worthwhile. No beautifully maintains a sense of claustrophobia, of uncertainty, and of the monumental changes in public belief at such an important time in Chile’s history. It is a fascinating account, combining sobering detail with inspirational moments. Larraín has certainly achieved the authenticity that he set out to capture.

No is released on 8th Feb, and is playing across Picturehouse Cinemas on Tuesday 12 Feb.

Reviewed by Ruth Singleton

Korean auteur, Kim Ki Duk has been dividing and delighting audiences for sixteen years. This new double disc set from Terracotta Distribution brings together Kim’s directorial debut; 1996’s Crocodile, and his self-reflective docu-drama, Arirang, released earlier this year. With Kim having just won the Golden Lion at Venice Film Festival for his latest feature, Pieta, now is a great time to take another look at two of the director’s career highlights.
Volatile anti-hero, Crocodile is the titular character of Kim’s earliest feature. He lives with his make-shift family, a pint-sized young peddler and an elderly vagrant, beside the Han River in Seoul. In order to make money, Crocodile waits for hopeless souls to throw themselves off a bridge located on the same river, and once they’ve plunged to their doom, he robs their corpses. One night he spots a beautiful young woman in the water and is prompted by his companions to go to her rescue and, seemingly uncharacteristically, he does. This unfortunate woman, Hyun-Jung, becomes the newest member of the unconventional family group, choosing to remain in their riverside dwelling despite repeated sexual attacks from Crocodile. Over time, bonds are formed between the homeless individuals, seeming to provide them with some hope and happiness. Yet tragedy looms as Crocodile’s explosive temper and violent tendencies lead him to become embroiled in dangerous criminal activity.
Made on a relatively low budget, Crocodile lacks some of the visual beauty synonymous with Kim’s later work. However, its gritty style suits the tone of the story, and the director makes the most of what he has available, employing some stunning shots of the river from both above and below. Some of the most beautiful moments in the film happen under the surface of the water, particularly the haunting final scene, which sets that environment in stark contrast to the cruel world above.
The notion of contrast is also intrinsic to the narrative. Violence is juxtaposed with serenity, compassion with brutality. As despicable a character as Crocodile may seem, Kim does not portray him as a purely one dimensional villain. As Hyun-Jung begins to have an influence on the family group, Crocodile starts to soften ever so slightly, there are points where, despite his earlier appalling behaviour, we believe that he genuinely cares for those around him. However, he is an inherently violent man and his struggle to overcome his nature is ultimately in vain.
Crocodile is an affecting and sometimes disturbing film. Its depictions of violence are particularly brutal, and the treatment of the sole female character makes it easy to see why accusations of misogyny are often levelled at the director. Yet, this a strong debut, a great introduction to Kim’s work and a precursor of the remarkable works Kim has since accomplished.

ARIRANG is a boundary blurring docu-drama with its sole focus on Kim’s two year period of self-enforced exile from film making, and mainstream society. Through drunken rants, heated exchanges with himself, excruciating renditions of folk songs, and many more strange antics, Kim lays himself bare. Or does he? At times the director seems to be playing with the audience, he refers to himself as an actor and forces us to question whether any of what we’ve seen is genuine.
A near fatal accident involving his lead actress on the set of 2008 feature, DREAM, was the catalyst for Kim’s solitary retreat. And it is obvious that the guilt he suffered as a result of the near tragedy was great. Through ARIRANG we see him question the value of filmmaking, he debates whether his desire to make films is worth putting others at risk. However, it is obvious that his inability to make films over this period of exile was very frustrating for Kim, and through a need for cinematic expression he took to filming himself – a project in isolation through which no others would come to harm.
ARIRANG also highlights another area of Kim’s frustration; that of his relationship with the Korean film industry. Over his prolific career, Kim’s films have always been better received by the overseas market than in his native Korean. Where he has received a host of awards in Europe, including the Silver Bear at Berlin Film Festival and, most recently, the Golden Lion at Venice, his films have often been met with animosity and poor box office takings in the domestic market. Kim rages against the Korean film industry and its rejection of his work, however, it seems at points that he almost enjoys his outsider status. We learn that he has always been marginalised, even as a factory worker he never became totally integrated into the working community. Given the setting in which ARIRANG takes place, it could be argues that Kim has a penchant for isolation.
ARIRANG is frustrating, fascinating and beguiling all at the same time. Some may find it self-indulgent, but I found it a captivating insight into the mind of one of Korea’s most notorious directors, and a film like none other I’ve seen before. Although probably not the best film for those unfamiliar with Kim’s work to start out with, it makes a fantastic companion piece for CROCODILE, demonstrating how the director has progressed and how he maintains his passion to create intriguing and controversial cinema.

Reviewed by @Charlobot

On a far-off planet, the ozone layer is being destroyed by big emotions, with ‘love’ being the worst offender. Three lesbian space aliens are banished to Earth for a time, mainly in order to get their hearts broken and to cure them of this ‘love’. The most touching story is that of Zoinx, who meets Jane – a very shy stationary shop worker. The two develop a strong relationship, and overcome their differences. It is through this relationship that the film makes most of its points.

First-time feature director Madeleine Olnek has crafted a fine film, with a lot of support from talented actors. The aliens are all bald, and speak in monotone, and yet we still feel a connection with these characters, and can relate to the terror, fear and heartbreak of relationships.

Visually striking, Codependent embraces its tight budget and plays on the classic science fiction ‘B’ movies of the past. Shot in black and white, and with special effects which remind me very much of Planet 9 from Outer Space, there is an interesting play between what is real and fake; with the New York settings grounding the film in a way that doesn’t always sit well with the sci-fi elements.

The metaphors are a little strong, but where it could have been heavy-going, the characters and performances bring depth and meaning to the film. That said, there is also a high volume of silliness, which is where the film excels. Two aliens crying at the melancholy brought on by a revolving cake display is perhaps the best example. It is a fine balance between drama and comedy, but one that I think is spot on.

Codependent is funny, original and touching, and I recommend giving it a go.

Available on DVD from 26 November

Of all the traditions of the James Bond series the caption at the ending “James Bond will return…” is the one the producers have been most keen to stick to.

The films have adapted to changes in cinema (sometimes leading the changes) and the world – not least the end of the Cold War, yet the super spy keeps on returning and thrilling audiences.

Some argue that the biggest change in the 50 year history of the series came when Daniel Craig stepped into 007’s shoes. For others Casino Royale marked a return to Bondian basics. Certainly many greeted Craig’s appointment to Her Majesty’s Secret Service with dismay – yet he proved them wrong and the series hit new heights of acclaim – and James Bond’s return was guaranteed.

The follow up Quantum of Solace (QoS) was eagerly anticipated but less-enthusiastically received. Yet once again Craig carried the film which had difficulties in production thanks to the writers’ strike.

But now James Bond has returned in Skyfall. The restart button had been hit in Casino Royale by rebooting Bond and showing him at the start of his career as a double-O agent. It was again hit at the end of QoS (a point made explicitly by director Marc Foster by moving the signature gun barrel to the end of the movie – he is the Bond we all know now) , it seemed like Skyfall would herald a return of something more like “business as usual” for Bond.

Instead, Skyfall is the first in the series not to be a James Bond film – it is the first ever M film.

It is Judi Dench’s head of Mi6 that drives the plot, more than Bond. She even drives the dastardly scheme of Javier Bardem’s villain.

Not that this is necessarily a bad thing. Dench has become an important figure in the world of Bond since first appearing as M in Goldeneye. Knowing this to be her last film in the series (a secret that the film makers couldn’t hide – even they did manage to hide exactly how she would make her exit) the film is turned into her swansong. This is an honour that no other longstanding member of the Bond cast has ever been afforded before. The closest is Desmond Llewellyn’s exit as Q in The World Is Not Enough (although at the time it was not clear of he was retiring from the series or just considering it. His death shortly after the film’s release adds an extra poignancy to the scene but gives him a fitting exit after many long years of service to 007).

Director Sam Mendes has said that The Dark Knight Rises (which Skyfall has recently surpassed to become the UK’s most success film of 2012 so far) gave him the carte blanche to go darker and delve in the character’s past. Indeed, TDKR felt like it was tying up the ends of all the threads started in its predecessor while Shyfall feels like it is tying up the loose threads of Dench’s M and Bond’s reinvention.

M has become an increasingly important character during Dench’s tenure in the role. From being simply the person who sent 007 of around the world to investigate some McGuffin or other, M has become an integral part of the mission and in touch with Bond throughout the movie. This time Bond is even equipped with an earpiece so M can be in constant touch – something the films seem to have borrowed from recent Bond video games.

Dame Judi certainly has the gravitas and skill to carry the film – or any film. The same could be said for most of the cast. This is certainly one of the best casts assembled for a Bond movie and the series hasn’t been sort of talented people in the past.

Javier Bardem, Albert Finney, Naomi Harris, Bérénice Marlohe and Ralph Fiennes all turn in good performances of varying importance. Most importantly of all Craig shines as Bond once more.

The character has gone though many transformations over the past 50 years. Craig has brought a harsh edge back to the character, or brought him back to his roots – literally in Skyfall.

A nice homage to Fleming is made by keeping Bond’s parents name as he set them in the novels. One thing Skyfall gets right is the homages to the past. Unlike Die Another Day, which marked 40 years of the films, it approaches it subtly rather than shoe horning as many as possible.

Whether intentional or not there are brief unmentioned references to the Brosnan years in the first meeting with Q, the Dalton years in one of the gadget – there is even something of The Man With The Golden Gun about the entire film (yes, really…but there is not the time to explore this here). And of course using Scotland as a setting reflects Fleming’s own homage to the films – he only made Bond half Scottish after being impressed by Connery in the role in Dr. No.

The biggest homage has the car – and in a Bond movie that can only mean one thing. No, not the Lotus Esprit but the Aston Martin DB5. Since appearing in Goldfinger and Thunderball it has been seen throughout Brosnan’s films and Casino Royale. It also provides the biggest logical inconsistency in the film.

Ok, I know this a Bond film, so internal continuity is never a strong point for a character that every few years is able to change his face, voice, height, hair colour – become a different man. Bear with me…

Casino Royale clearly rebooted the franchise. Bond was taken back to the start of his career and is seen winning the DB5 at a game of poker. So how the hell does he manage to have the DB5 fully equipped with Q’s gadgets that agent 007 was given in Goldfinger? Even more so when he refers to it not being an Mi6 vehicle.

You could forgive the ejector seat gag if that was just it. A nice joke for the fans – especially as it is the car actually used in Goldfinger…but having the full works, it just doesn’t work.

However, that is geekery picking and a little unfair. From the use of the Bond theme throughout, the return of Q and other regular Bond characters/elements this is undoubtedly a Bond film and has every right to break its own rules.

Not only that but it is a good film, and a good Bond film. Maybe not the greatest ever but a strong story, brilliant performances, good action and well scored. Some may moan there is not much action overseas and that Mi6 has no jurisdiction to act in the UK – but if you go into a Bond film expecting it to be totally realistic then you’ve missed the point. Besides, Fleming’s third novel (Moonraker) is set purely in London and Kent (and no not space…).

By the end of the film you know that the world of Bond is back to where it has always been – despite the changes some have made a great deal of. The fact the reset button is again hit at the end is weakness. How many more times can this happen? Surely all is set for a one-off Bond adventure next time.

Well, even if the next film follows this template then it will be a high entry to the series and an enjoyable romp. At end I wanted to see it again and see more from Craig-era 007.

We should be very glad that James Bond will return…

Review by @StanleyMizaru

A South Korean revenge thriller in which both of our protagonists are bedridden. Min-Ho (Cheon Ho-jin) has been repeatedly trying to commit suicide since his wife was murdered, gradually crippling himself more and more with each failed attempt, finally reaching the point where he cannot stand, let alone walk, and has limited use of his arms. Even his speech is affected. At this point, he gets a new room-mate, Sang-Up (Yoo Hae-jin) who is given the bed beside Min-Ho. Sang-Up has completely lost his memory. He is also the man that Min-Ho blames for his wife’s death.

There then follows a race – can Min-Ho recover his strength enough to kill his wife’s murderer before Sang-Up regains his memory? As he recovers, Min-Ho finds various ingenious ways to attempt murder; scalpels, a pair of tights, soap… anything he can swipe without being noticed. Yes, Desire to Kill is a revenge thriller, and is very tense in places, but it is also a comedy. Albeit a very dark comedy.

The middle section of the film, where the two build a weird relationship that begins afresh every day due to Sang-Up’s memory loss, is by far the best part of the film. The two actors bounce off one another. We also have Nurse Ha (Seo Hyo-rim), who has been placed in charge of these two would-be murderers. She remains oblivious to the darker side of their relationship, her upbeat moments are welcome and balance out the darker comedy.

Their shared room is almost a prison. It amplifies the drama and the pressures that the characters go through. The lighting and direction also help to create a sense of claustrophobia and frustration. There is very little use of music – creating a strangely naturalistic dark comedy. When it is used, however, it is very effective. It also helps blend reality and fantasy with certain scenes, with dreams and hallucinations also eating away at Min-Ho.

There is an attempt to wrap it up far too neatly towards the end, with a few twists which were planted throughout the film. Overall, Desire to Kill is an interesting and original premise carried through with imagination and two fantastic performances.

Out now to own on DVD.

The Atacama desert in Chile is a unique environment on our damp, blue-green little planet.  There is practically no moisture in the air at all. Here, we learn, the world’s largest telescopes have been built so that astronomers can gaze deep into space through the clear night sky. Of course, not only are they seeing across vast distances, but they are seeing through time; they are seeing light that was originally emitted from stars millions or billions of years ago. Through the work of thee astronomers, we are learning about the beginning of the universe.

Now, bring yourself forward many millions of years, and there are trade routes through the desert that our ancestors walked. Archeologists sort through the markings on rocks left by these people, and analyse the remains that are found. Everything that we can learn about these people is something we’ve learned about ourselves.

Jump forward again and Pinochet has taken control of Chile in a military coup. The Atacama desert is home to internment camps (where some prisoners enjoy amateur astronomy). Many thousands are killed under his rule; their bodies buried and re-buried in the desert. They are known as ‘the disappeared’. Now, amongst the astronomers and archeologists there are also women who search the desert day after day for the remains of these ‘disappeared’ – their families and loved ones.

These three separate strands weave amongst one another, and are used to build and enforce metaphor and emotion, as well as to contrast. One minute we will be engrossed in thoughts about the creation of the universe, and the next we will be almost brought to tears with stories of captives and victims of Pinochet’s regime.

Everyone in the documentary is searching through time that has been preserved by the nature of this dry desert.

The interviews are poignant, and appropriate with interesting, thoughtful people. Jumping between the three separate strands could have proven complicated, but ultimately proves to balance the film, and creates a much greater meaning than any of them would have managed on their own.

A one-of-a kind documentary about life, death and the beginning of everything.