Landship review – soldiers yearn for tinned pies in muddy first world war drama that stays inside the tank

It’s too murky to distinguish one stiff upper lip from another in Callum Burn’s drama about a real-life mission that came unstuck Based loosely on a true story, this British first world war drama deploys a few cunning stratagems to keep the budget down – starting with setting almost the entire story inside a tank; this one is nicknamed the Fray Bentos after the popular tinned pie. In addition, whenever the British soldier characters venture outside this extremely confined space, it’s almost always night-time, or exactly the moment when a miasma of smoke and fog is so thick, you can’t see the Germans skulking behind papier-mache hillocks of mud, ready to pounce on our plucky heroes. Unfortunately, all that gloom and grot makes it a little hard to make out what is going on at times. That means the noble chaps become almost indistinguishable from each other – although over time it’s possible to work out that the officers are the ones with tidy, manly moustaches and sound posh, while the n...

Golda review – lifeless Meir biopic hides Helen Mirren’s talent in a cloud of cigarette smoke

As a drama about the Yom Kippur war, this film is bafflingly dull. As a portrait of Golda Meir, Israel’s prime minister at the time, it’s even worse

Helen Mirren’s latexed and enhanced portrayal of Golda Meir, Israel’s “Iron Lady” prime minister during the 1973 Yom Kippur war, has been overtaken by a debate about “Jewface” casting because Mirren is not Jewish – addressing why Jews are casually excluded from the otherwise fiercely policed sensibilities about authenticity and identity on screen. (Would they get a white actor, for example, to black up as President Anwar Sadat?) It’s a valid and important question, but not exactly the problem in this stately, stuffy and at times almost comatose TV-movie-type drama about tension in Israel’s corridors of power as the Yom Kippur war exploded and the country faced off against Egypt, Syria and Jordan in a battle for its very existence.

Mirren, normally such a sparkling performer, is lumbered with a grey wig, false nose and jowls, with occasional headscarf and handbag, making her look as if she is playing the Queen doing an impression of Richard Nixon. This Golda Meir impassively chainsmokes her way through wooden potted-history dialogue scenes with her military top brass, while everyone blows cigarette smoke at each other; occasionally she takes a break to lie prostrate on a hospital bed, stoically smoking and dying of cancer. Is she going to die? Why not? The film is flatlining.

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