Review: The Girl On The Train (UK Cert 15)

An expertly plotted, intricate thriller, The Girl On The Train is based on the best-selling book by Paula Hawkins and directed by Tate Taylor (The Help)

Transplanting the story from London to New York, it follows Rachel Watson (Emily Blunt), a woman who forms a fascination with a young woman (Haley Bennett) who she sees from the train every day on her way to work. Rachel builds up a perfect fantasy life for the woman. But when the young woman- whose name is Megan- disappears, Rachel becomes embroiled in the mystery. But can we really trust her version of events? Is there more to Megan's disappearance than meets the eye? Could Rachel have had something to do with it?

I'm an absolute sucker for books or films with unreliable narrators- there's something deeply satisfying about a work that can skilfully pull the rug out from under you- and here, we get not one, but three, narrators who aren't telling us everything. As the layers of the story unfold, what we think we know turns out to be wrong. Dead wrong.

There is an absolutely brilliant central performance by Emily Blunt. Rachel is a fascinating, flawed character- the main character, certainly, but definitely no heroine- and Blunt plays it to the hilt with absolutely no shred of ego involved. Rachel looks haggard, eyes sunk, as alcohol and regret make their mark. She is prone to drunken outbursts and blackouts and has a very complicated relationship with her ex-husband Tom (Justin Theroux) and his new wife Anna (Rebecca Ferguson). There's no attempt to soften or mitigate the rough edges of the character. She is presented warts and all, and it's one of Blunt's finest dramatic performances.

Megan is a similarly contradictory character; Rachel's imagined perfect life is very different to her reality. Bennett gets to play many facets to Megan- flirty, vulnerable, brazen, distraught- which all build in to her disappearance. Occasionally, Bennett's performance lapses into cliche but that could be to do with the script. To round out our triumvirate of troubled women, we have Anna. Scared of Rachel and mistrustful of her influence on her ex-husband, all Anna wants is to be left alone to get on with her life. What could have been a stereotypical new-wife-threatened-by-the-old is given nuance by Ferguson's performance and- as the story progresses- we come to realise that perhaps there's more to Anna than meets the eye.

You may think that, being such a female-heavy story, the male characters get short shrift. Not so. Whilst it's true that Luke Evans gets lumbered with little to do other than brood and shout as Megan's husband Scott, the other main male characters- Tom, and Megan's therapist Dr. Abdic (Edgar Ramirez)- are a bit more rounded and each feeds in to the main story. Whilst I have to say I called the twist, it was less to do with any of the performances and more to do with the law of averages.

The Girl On The Train (both the book and the film) have been compared to Gone Girl, and I can see why. There's some similarities- the unreliable narrators, stories told from the female view, moments of shocking violence (although Gone Girl takes the gold on that one)- but this is far from a pale imitation. This isn't a go-in-and-switch-your-brain-off film. It is taxing, especially to keep track of the differing timelines and points of view but if you're in the mood for a dark, psychological, tricksy puzzle-box of a film, this is well worth a go.

Review: 4 out of 5

Tez

Review: Get On Up (UK Cert: 12A)

Not many musicians can say they were chiefly responsible for creating a genre of music, influencing artists such as Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Michael Jackson, and Prince, as well as being one of early hip-hop’s most sampled acts, but that’s what James Brown did. Having had no formal music training, Brown was one of those rare songwriters who experimented with styles, even the rules of what was considered music, and came up with US Billboard Chart denting hit after hit (Brown’s emphasis on the bass and rhythm sections, that would eventually become known as funk, yet the same man also wrote one of the world’s most popular love songs, It’s A Man’s Man’s Man’s World). The most memorable, game changing geniuses are usually flawed, complex, and contradictory; several words that only begin to describe James Brown. With Get On Up, The Help’s Tate Taylor bravely tries to sum up Brown’s life in just over two hours. The result is a decent, if patchy, biopic of The Godfather of Soul.

Alarm bells rang in my head when a 12A certificate flashed up on the cinema screen. You wouldn’t produce a film based on Keith Richards or Axl Rose’s life and give it a 12A rating; the same goes for James Brown. This is one of Get On Up’s biggest problems; Jez and John-Henry Butterworth’s script isn’t concerned with showing James Brown the womaniser, drug addict, or his erratic behaviour in later years, this is James Brown: the million-selling, founding father of funk. All of this is hinted at in Get On Up (an awkward and funny scene where Brown’s current and ex-wife see Brown off at the airport; a close up of Brown using PCP; the comical opening scene where Brown, out of his mind on drugs, waltzes in on a self-improvement seminar, shotgun aloft, demanding to know who used his private bathroom), but that’s just it; Brown’s personal life is hinted at, nothing more. We learn very little about James Brown other than he was brilliantly talented, a borderline sociopath, surrounded by yes men.

Instead of recounting Brown’s life from beginning to end, the Butterworth’s script zigzags frenetically throughout his life, juxtaposing scenes that are decades apart. You also have Brown (played by newcomer Chadwick Boseman) repeatedly break the fourth wall, glancing at the viewer, occasionally walking out of his own scene to talk to the camera and explain what’s going on inside his head. This is both strength and a massive flaw for the film. There are clever moments when Boseman glances at the camera, silently telling the audience, “I know how cool I am,” or, when he argues with the management at the record company he’s signed to, he’s saying, “This man is top of the class at stupid school.” In one stand out scene, where Brown’s manager, Ben Bart (played with relish by Dan Aykroyd) rants at Brown about how you can’t go changing the rules of the music industry, Brown walks away, leaving Bart lecturing to no one, and argues his point directly to camera, a glint in his eye as he sits back down. Early on in the film, you wonder why we’re not shown Brown’s reunion with his mother, years after she walked out when he was a child, leaving him with his abusive father. Taylor smartly places this scene after his best friend, Bobby Byrd (Nelsan Ellis) walks away from him, having finally had enough of Brown’s arrogance and temper. Despite the money and the adoration from his fans, Brown was ultimately alone; by pushing away Bobby Byrd, he lost the one person who didn’t see him as a meal ticket (we soon realise that Brown’s mother hasn’t come to build bridges, she wants a hand out).

The problem with this scatter-shot approach is that at no point do we go into any detail about Brown’s life. It feels more like damage control than a warts-and-all biopic, Taylor swerving away from Brown’s personal troubles and instead trying to recreate his energy and charisma. For most of Get On Up, you get a rose-tinted trip down memory lane instead of a dig beneath the surface study of James Joseph Brown.

On the plus side, Chadwick Boseman’s performance is astonishing. While he’s taller, and doesn’t have quite the same build as Brown, Boseman copies the tics and expressions perfectly, able to pull off the steps, spins and splits as if he was created in a lab using Brown’s DNA. Instead of miming to the songs, it’s Boseman’s voice you hear, and while it isn’t quite Brown, Boseman is as close as anyone is going to get. When he sings, Boseman captures the screams and moans of ecstasy, longing, and regret that made Brown’s voice instantly recognisable.

Having got the rights to Brown’s music, Taylor ticks off virtually every song from his repertoire. Not only will the music have you moving around in your seat, you’re also reminded what a pioneering songwriter Brown was, how easily he could come up with an impossible not to dance to riff, such as the tight and stripped down Cold Sweat. A handful of famous songs are missing – The Boss and Hot Pants don’t make it in – but you will struggle to find a better soundtrack this year, or for a good many years.

Would James Brown have wanted a formulaic, by the numbers biopic about him? Probably not, but the approach that the Butterworth’s script takes means that fans won’t find out anything they don’t already know. Get On Up is a mile away from the step back and let the viewer judge biopics of Ray or 24 Hour Party People; it’s lightweight, but entertaining enough. If you want to appreciate the genius of James Brown, the best thing you can do is buy a copy of Live at the Apollo, one of the greatest live albums ever recorded. Not only does the set skilfully swap from raging funk to slow, tender ballads, it’s a lesson in how a lead singer can get a crowd worked up and have them at his command.

3 out of 5

Matt