Olivia review – unhurried, painterly fable about loss aims to expose the meaning of grief

Argentinian director Sofía Petersen’s self-conscious film tries for the weight of slow cinema, but is formless, inert and hibernating within its own heavy unlit gloom Argentinian director Sofía Petersen’s film is a mysterious depiction of loneliness and loss in the stark landscape of Tierra del Fuego; it is extended and unhurried, unfolding often to the sole accompaniment of a thin, desolate wind. It was well-received at last year’s Locarno film festival, but despite believing in the importance of slow cinema, I have to admit that this defeated me. Often formless and inert, I found its still life painterly compositions shot on 16mm film, heavy on lingering closeups on old spoons and watch-faces, redundant and self-conscious. The film seemed to be hibernating within its own heavy unlit gloom and its central theme – the meaning of grief – was not really exposed. Continue reading... from Film | The Guardian https://ift.tt/r6CT4pk via IFTTT

Olivia Colman and Jessie Buckley: ‘Never repress a woman – because it will come out’

The actors star in a true-life 1920s tale of a snobbish small town upset by poison-pen letters. They discuss falling in love with one another, the f-word and the parallels with today’s internet trolling

On 23 September 1921, a letter arrived at the home of Edith Swan, a laundress in the seaside town of Littlehampton, addressed to “the foxy ass whore 47, Western Rd”. One of the milder letters that had been plaguing the Sussex community for three years, it continued: “You foxy ass piss country whore you are a character.” Swan blamed a neighbour, Rose Gooding. But the post-office clerk and the local police had other suspicions, which drove them to rig up a periscope to spy on deliveries to the town’s post box and marking postage stamps with invisible ink.

The combination of filthy poison pen letters and DIY sleuthing in a quaint small-town setting is a gift for the star pairing of Olivia Colman and Jessie Buckley. Directed by Thea Sharrock with a screenplay by Jonny Sweet, and stuffed with classy character actors, Wicked Little Letters blows a raspberry at the Agatha Christie tradition of cosy crime stories. It also undercuts the Downton Abbey image of British social history which, says Buckley, “gives everybody the idea that people are kind of lovely when actually there’s a little bit of dirt under everybody’s pretty teacup. Everyone loves a good swear, even the ones that say they don’t.”

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