With lockdown beginning to show the tentative signs of easing, are we about to emerge into a new world having gained something from our time in lockdown? Robert Taffurelli takes a look at the films we may, or may not, want to guide us
When Colin Paterson, the BBC entertainment correspondent, interviewed Robert De Niro about his latest film, The Irishman, at this year’s BAFTA Film Awards, he informed the actor, “It is a very long film, three-and-a-half hours. And because it’s on Netflix, a lot of people are choosing to watch it over two nights”. Now, this is a giant of American cinema, reuniting with his long-time collaborator Martin Scorsese for the first time in nearly 25 years, not to mention they are joined by Al Pacino, Joe Pesci, Harvey Keitel, Ray Romano, Stephen Graham, the list could go on. And he asked about the length of the film.
In Paterson’s defence, there has been a lot of talk about how long the film is. So, with the film available on Netflix and lockdown looking like it’s going to continue in some form or another for quite some time, here’s the perfect opportunity to watch a masterpiece of modern cinema, and you can pause and make a cup of tea at your convenience – if you really must.
With cinemas likely to remain closed for some time, and streaming services falling over themselves to get us to click their way, what better way to make the most of this time and catch up with the wonderful world of film.
Indeed, that’s what many of us are doing – in-between juggling working from home with domestic chores and trying to keep up with the latest Downing Street briefings – and our viewing choices are interesting.
It seems some of us just can’t get enough of a global pandemic. Trending on various streaming service is Steven Soderbergh’s 2011 film Contagion. The online film database, IMDb, outlines the plot as: “Healthcare professionals, government officials and everyday people find themselves in the midst of a pandemic as the CDC [Centre for Disease Control] works to find a cure.” A little too close for comfort for many of us, you might have thought, but so too the Dustin Hoffman lead 1995 film Outbreak is seeing some of the film’s highest viewing figures for what is, frankly, not one of Hoffman’s better career choices – and this is the man who stars in Kung Fu Panda.
Film is, however, an artform as well as a business. It should not only entertain us and lead us into a world of escapism, it should also challenge, make us question our lives, our surroundings and the world we live in. Lockdown and living in confinement has certainly provided many of us a time to consider and reflect – and perhaps to look at the dark as well as the light.
Roman Polanski’s Repulsion (1965) is a disturbing and challenging psychological thriller, with its central character Carol, played by Catherine Deneuve, confined to a London flat and forced to face her inner demons.
The Guardian’s film critic, Peter Bradshaw, describes the film as, “one of the most disturbing things I have ever seen in the cinema.” Regarded as a classic, the film is not afraid to confront the emotional challenges of being in lockdown.
In a similar vein, is the 2019 film The Lighthouse. I was lucky enough to catch the film in the cinema a few weeks before lockdown and, despite improvements in home cinema technology and the staggering amount available from streaming services, cinema really is the place to view a film.
Robert Eggers has created one of the most unique films I have ever seen. In striking monochrome, the film tells the story of two light-house keepers in 19th-century Maine slowly going mad on a remote rock. Visually stunning and terrifying at once, the film appears both naturalistic and surreal, while the lives of the two men slowly unravel before us. Available to stream from early June, The Lighthouse will divide viewers. As my wife said to me while watching the film, “I feel like I’m slowly going insane too watching this.” High praise indeed.
Apart from the now Thursday evening ritual of stepping outside our front door and applauding our keyworkers – the real heroes of this story – it can seem that days go by without seeing and speaking to people outside of your own household. Neighbours might as well be living in another country, with only the slight hint of a curtain twitching signalling someone’s home.
And, if you find yourself questioning what’s going on behind that closed world, David Lynch is your man. Skilfully balancing an independent filmmaker’s sensibility with more than a modicum of success, Lynch’s films have crossed the white picket fence of many an American home to reveal an often surreal world of bizarre domesticity.
Blue Velvet (1986) is for many his finest film, and if you’re curious about the neighbours’ routines, well worth a visit.
Of course, for many films offer the opportunity to escape these difficult times. Rather than confined locations, we yearn for the majestic landscapes offered by David Lean – Lawrence of Arabia, Doctor Zhivago, A Passage to India; the escapism of science fiction – why not get lost in all nine of the Star Wars films (you may want to fast forward episode one and have a puzzle book handy for episode six), not forgetting ‘A Star Wars Story’ films if the Skywalker saga still leaves you feeling, well, too real.
Or for those looking for something more nuanced, I recommend a viewing of Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (Director’s cut or Final cut) followed by Denis Villeneuve’s stunning sequel, Blade Runner 2049 – the perfect balance of sci-fi spectacle mixed with flawed realism
Indeed, of all the films mentioned here, it is the Blade Runner films I have found the most purposeful during this crisis. The films ask the most fundamental questions about reality and what it is to be human: Can the senses be trusted? Are memories real? Is anything real? In Blade Runner, science, technology and progress are all questioned and shown in some way to have failed. The world in these films is polluted by industry and overcrowding – only the rich escape to the ‘off-worlds’.
One of the key themes of the films is the blurring of the differences between the real and the artificial, between the humans and the replicants. Increasingly, it is no longer possible to be clear about what it means to be ‘human’.
And sometimes that can be a real beauty of film. One minute your watching a true visual spectacle, the next your pondering your world, your life, your existence. And at a combined running time of over four hours, you can always pause and make a cup of tea.
Words: Rob Taffurelli