Category Archives: Film & TV

Review, Humane, True Name Productions, The Pleasance/Omnibus Theatre/Arcola Theatre/Theatre Deli Sheffield/Compassion In World Farming, By Hannah Goslin

 out of 5 stars (3 / 5)

In the last year we have seen a development in Theatre. Many, due to the pandemic, took to digital platforms and this has continued as the world opens up. This is a super interesting way of performance, not necessarily new in concept (The Archers for instance has been going for what seems a lifetime) but has its own challenges and positives.

Humane is a story about animal cruelty, about personal development, about feminism, race, friendship and secrets. We see the story of two very unlikely women, join together in protesting the export of live animals from their little Essex town. Their community grows but with this, while there is support and a joint agreement, there are also secrets and arguments, beginning to question nature over nurture and the society we live in.

Split into 6 parts and therefore hosted by different partners, these 30minute bursts are really great and easy to access when on the go, at a quiet moment, and great for a tube journey. They are also easy to listen to, which I found when I traveled to and from an in person show and enjoyed on my travels.

I think, without visuals, it can be quite hard to picture the story. The story itself starts at the end and we are then brought back in time to explain how we got there. This is slightly confusing when just in audio and took a few episodes in for me to piece together the narrative. The same can be said with the characters – with similar sounding voices and some doubling up on characters, it again took me some time to get my head around who was who and whose story I was listening to. Once I grasped this, it made sense and soon the different stories began to naturally interweave and compliment and contrast.

The final crescendo comes at a little surprise – without spoiling the story, part of the ending relating to race and friendships feels slightly out of place and thrown in as an after thought. I understand that perhaps the shortness of each episode and trying to get all the information into each one perhaps knocks some of these narrative plots out but it felt as if this should have been more interwoven into the story.

Humane nonetheless is a very interesting story, and perhaps goes down a route that you never expect while reading the synopsis. It just felt as if more direction was needed when deciding if this should be about animal cruelty, friendships, race and if it needed to be all of these, how they could be more interwoven together.

An Interview with Screenwriter Fflur Dafydd, conducted by Gareth Williams

In this latest interview, Get the Chance member Gareth Williams chats to screenwriter Fflur Dafydd. Their chat takes place in the form of a podcast, the second in a trial series in conversation with Welsh creatives. Fflur talks about her latest series, Yr Amgueddfa, as well as the writing process, her creative journey, Welsh identity, memory, and Welsh TV drama.

To find out more about Fflur, visit her website here, or follow her on social media @fflurdafydd.

You can watch the whole series of Yr Amgueddfa on BBC iPlayer here.

Get the Chance supports volunteer critics like Gareth to access a world of cultural provision. We receive no ongoing, external funding. If you can support our work please donate here. Thanks.

Review Starlings (Sky 1, 2012-2013) by Barbara Hughes-Moore

Living in lockdown after lockdown has facilitated more binge-watching than ever before, and a lot of us have taken the chance to catch up on shows we missed the first time round. I’ve finally caught up on Fringe, Red Dwarf, and Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes. I’ve rewatched more of the Stargate franchise than is healthy and puzzled my way through Neon Genesis Evangelion. But two of my personal lockdown favourites, Spirited and Starlings, happen to have something (or, rather, someone) in common: and that’s Matt King.

King is known to many as Peep Show’s lovable crack addict Super Hans, but I first knew him as charming grifter Cookie in Guy Ritchie’s RocknRolla, in which he effortlessly stole scenes from the likes of Gerard Butler, Idris Elba, and Tom Hardy. While he’s perhaps best known for playing wide boys and weirdos onscreen (to great effect!), he’s also a dab hand behind the camera, having co-written and produced series like sketch comedy Dogface, acerbic sitcom Whites, and the subject of this review, Sky 1’s family dramedy Starlings.

Starlings Cast Shot © Adrian Rogers for Sky 1 HD

Written by King and Steve Edge (who also star) and produced by Steve Coogan, the series follows four generations of the lovable and slightly chaotic Starlings, an everyday working-class family who all live under one roof. At its heart is happily married couple Terry (Brendan Coyle) and Jan (Lesley Sharp), and their three children: eldest daughter Bell (Rebecca Night), separated from her boyfriend Reuben (Ukweli Roach) on the eve of giving birth to their son; Gravy (John Dagleish), the layabout son with a penchant for reptiles; and Charlie (Finn Atkins), teenage football hopeful and seemingly the only person in the family who’s got it together. Add in Jan’s jack-of-all-trades nephew Fergie (Edge), eccentric Granddad Billy (Alan Williams), and Billy’s long-lost son, Loz (King), and the Starlings’ detached red-brick house is getting rather cramped by the end of the pilot.

Set in Matlock, Derbyshire under perpetually blue skies, the world of Starlings is beautiful to look at and to live in. King and Edge set out to make a comedy drama without the caricatures you’d find in your common garden soap opera, and they succeeded: while its contemporaries wring laughs from families falling over, falling out, or downright falling apart, Starlings is about people who both love and genuinely like each other – even when they get on each other’s nerves. There’s not a weak link in the cast, and their rapport feels natural and lived-in. Honest, gentle, and understated, Starlings delights in the everyday. It doesn’t just give you a window into family life – it makes you feel part of that family.

The Starlings – Series 2
Gallery images
Alan WIlliams as Grandad, John Daglish as Gravy, Finn Atkins as Charlie, Brendan Coyle as Terry, Lesley Sharp as Jan, Matt King as Fergie, Steve Edge as Loz, Rebecca Night as Bell and Ukweli Roach as Reuben.
©Des Willie for Sky 1 HD
2013

In doing so, it manages a deceptively tricky balance: it’s warm and genuine without being twee, funny without being farcical, snarky without being mean-spirited. It has an eye for detail and the small, quietly meaningful moments of life that other series tend to trample on or overlook entirely. It thoughtfully subverts toxic masculinity and crafts characters you relish spending time with. It’s also very refreshing to have a series where people are not just happy, but profoundly relieved, to be able to go home to their loved ones at the end of the day. In the Starlings’ world, family is sanctuary.

On an aesthetic level, Starlings is ideal summertime viewing. In many ways a modern pastoral, the series immerses you in a bucolic fever dream of British rural/town life that is still rarely seen on screen. Watch it in the winter, and you can feel the balmy breeze rustling through the trees of the Starling homestead; see it in the summer, and you can sense its warmth spilling over the edges of the screen. It was clearly a joy to make, and that affection is apparent in every frame – no wonder it attracted the likes of Dolly Wells, Cherie Lunghi, Vincent Regan, and Una Stubbs to guest star.

Starlings Cast Shot

© Adrian Rogers for Sky 1 HD

As I wrote about the dearly departed Spirited, discovering a gem of a show years after it’s ended is something of a double-edged sword. On the one hand, there’s the injustice of it being taken before its time, the realisation that there is a finite amount of the thing you love; a story unresolved. On the other, it’s like happening upon buried treasure; a rare jewel you never even knew existed and now couldn’t bear to be without. The appeal of unthreatening mediocrity means that countless copy-paste procedurals run ad infinitum and gems like Starlings get struck down in their prime. I wish it could have gone for longer. I wish it would come back. But whatever its fate, I’m grateful it exists in the world. It takes a little time to worm its way into your heart, but once it does, the Starlings come home to roost – for good.

Starlings is streaming on iTunes, Apple TV, Google Play and Amazon Prime Video.

Review by Barbara Hughes-Moore

Get the Chance supports volunteer critics like Barbara to access a world of cultural provision. We receive no ongoing, external funding. If you can support our work please donate here thanks.

Review I May Destroy You by Simon Kensdale

Please note this review contains analysis of the programmes plotlines.

I May Destroy You didn’t deal with murder: it dealt with Rape.  I don’t know why crime series don’t tackle more common crimes more often.  It’s as if only murder is considered sufficiently serious as dramatic material to engage our attention.  The victims of assault, fraud and dangerous driving would disagree with this assessment: crime often has life-changing consequences.  I also don’t know why ‘serious’ drama has to involve crime, anyway.  Does contemporary society lack internal tensions?

I May Destroy You scored points for me by tackling a subject important for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that it is extremely rare for rapists to be convicted.  The series drew attention to the failure of the dedicated/honest, heroic/glamorous, photogenic/fascinating police force’s inability to deal with what is almost a routine occurrence.  I thought it would be more interesting than the standard foul murder- clever investigation – heroic arrest format normally served up.

I May Destroy You also drew my attention because it concentrated on young people and their lives, meaning it could deploy novel vocabulary and expressive idioms. The police were hardly relevant so there weren’t any of those terse office conversations building up the plot.  It came in half hour episodes, too, which meant it moved forwards quickly.  (Nearly all TV programmes fill a sixty-minute slot to suit the scheduling.  Nearly all could do with editing.)

Nonetheless, I found it disappointing and I lost interest half-way through.  The acting and camera work were good but I found the conversations limited, as if there was no point in our spending more time with the characters or in getting closer to their predicaments.

I think the problem was the subject matter proved too difficult for television in the end.  The combination of PTSD and writer’s block resulting from a date rape was never going to be easy to present.  Writers are not exciting dramatis personae and writers who can’t write are not interesting people to watch.  And, fatally, we were distracted from considering the initial issue by two further rapes – both variations on the situation of the removal or non-use of a condom.  I say ‘fatally’ because, as with the standard crime series where further killings are added to maintain momentum, more proves to be less.  By the time three people have been killed, the viewer has begun to lose interest in the first victim and a key element in the story – the motive of the killer and the circumstances that have driven him or her to kill – has been sacrificed to the simpler mysteries of who the killer might be and how they’ll be caught.

Thus, in I May Destroy You, the main character’s trauma was pushed aside when she is raped a second time – by a man removing a condom during sex.  We witness this rape as well as the homosexual rape of one of her friends and the graphic images displace the vague memories of what happened to her when she was drugged that she is trying to access.

There is a lot of sexual activity but none of it is ordinary.  The one sex scene in which rape does not take place involves the main character’s best friend in a one-night stand threesome.  Nobody appears to be in a settled relationship, turning sex itself into an issue, rather than showing it as a routine feature of everyday life, i.e. making consent a norm.

There is a reason for this, of course.  The series aims at exploring the ramifications of rape – its impact on victims, augmented by the inability of the police to deal with a serious crime.  It has been plotted so as not present the traditional, stereotypical view of rape, i.e. the violent assault, and it deserves recognition for this.  Unfortunately, as each of the three rapes is distinct – involving the absence of consent but also representing different aspects of the problem – they don’t complement one another.  It would have been better to have concentrated on a single incident, which is what I thought would happen, in order to allow the audience to consider the meaning of consent and the psychological consequences of intimate violence.

You could say that by illustrating rape so graphically and insistently, the series drew attention to a wide-spread problem, but I think we are mainly moved by the sight of one interesting and unforgettable individual’s experience or suffering and we start to step back once we suspect there is nothing unique about it.

In making these remarks, I’m conscious that I’m resorting to literary theory and I do enjoy novels more than the television.  It’s not wholly correct to compare a TV series with a novel and to expect the same kind of imaginative experience from both.  Equally, I May Destroy You is not a play, in which a dramatic situation can be explored and worked out in a single intense performance.  But some of the criteria applies across the board.  A long time ago, the BBC televised The Forsyte Saga.  Galsworthy’s Forsyte novels are not widely read any more – who has time for a saga, even one written by a Nobel prize winner? – but Galsworthy was ahead of his time in tackling marital rape.  By describing a single incident at the time of publication to his readers and then through the BBC series, I think his story highlighted the issue more memorably than if he had shown a multiplicity of cases and marital rape would have been as common when he was writing as it is today.  As a consequence of his concentration on the one event, Soames, the perpetrator of the rape, is criminalised and revealed for what he is and what he represents; Irene, his wife and his victim, monopolises our sympathy.  Both characters are memorable and, dare I say it, this suggests a more oblique, less elaborate treatment of rape may be more effective in terms of engaging an audience.

I’m disagreeing here with The Guardian’s write up on I May Destroy You which was an ‘unadulterated paean of praise’, the series apparently being ‘an extraordinary, breathtaking achievement without a false note in it’ and ‘the drama of the year so far’.

I enjoyed reading that review but it wasn’t critical.  It expressed the reviewer’s obvious personal enjoyment but one of the principles of criticism is – still – offering constructive feedback.  I think Michaela Coel, the writer and star of I May Destroy You is someone with both potential and ambition.  She wants to tackle big subjects in unusual ways but she’s more likely to make progress in the future if she remembers the traditional basics of story telling.  For my taste, I May Destroy You went too far in some directions and not far enough in others.

An Interview with Country Singer-songwriter Rae Sam, conducted by Gareth Williams

In this latest interview, Get the Chance member Gareth Williams chats to Welsh Country singer-songwriter Rae Sam. Their chat takes place in the form of a podcast, the first in a trial series in conversation with Welsh creatives. Rae talks about her debut album, The Great Escape, as well as songwriting, mental health, Welsh identity, and faith.

To find out more about Rae, visit her website here, or follow her on social media @raesammusic.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpag4UJNAu8

Get the Chance supports volunteer critics like Gareth to access a world of cultural provision. We receive no ongoing, external funding. If you can support our work please donate here. Thanks.

Series Review, The Pact, BBC1, by Gareth Williams

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

There is a moment during the final episode of BBC1 drama The Pact when its writer, Pete McTighe, attempts to deconstruct the truth. Julie Hesmondhalgh’s character Nancy, one of the four women caught up at the centre of a murder investigation, begins a Shakespearean dialogue with her priest (Mark Lewis-Jones), telling him that we all wear masks and play parts. No one is ever truly themselves, she admits. “I’ve come to realise that it’s the absence of truth that holds us together”. When Father Martin responds to her “cynical worldview”, I’m inclined to agree with him. But I do wonder if McTighe has still necessarily muddied the waters to offer a critique of truth as a negative construct: sometimes dangerous, potentially destructive, and capable of being subverted by something greater than itself.

Pete McTighe

This critique plays out in the central narrative of the drama. After brewery boss Jack Evans (Aneurin Barnard) is found dead in the woods, having been innocently left there by four friends in a humorous act of revenge for his snide comments the night before, the group endeavour to create a cover story so as not to be implicated in the subsequent investigation. They attempt to absolve themselves of the situation, thinking about the possible ramifications should their involvement be uncovered. They are driven by fear of where the truth might lead, and attempt to abscond it by living a lie. What takes shape over the course of six episodes is a fascinating interplay between truth and lie. It is at its most dynamic in episode five when Anna (Laura Fraser) reveals to her husband, police officer Max (Jason Hughes), what really happened. In doing so, she makes him complicit; forced to choose between his personal and professional commitments. It becomes a choice between telling the truth or living the lie; and in choosing the latter, the lie becomes the truth that drives the lie. In other words, he acknowledges the destructive consequences that the truth poses to his family, and so seeks to avert this risk entirely by becoming entangled, like the rest, in a web of deceit.

Anna (Laura Fraser) and Max (Jason Hughes)

Ordinarily, one might assume that McTighe is telling a simple story of corruption. However, I believe he presents a rather deft commentary on the nature of friendship. I think it goes to the heart of what Nancy means when she describes “the absence of truth that holds us together”. For the lie which Anna, Nancy, Louie (Eiry Thomas) and Cat (Heledd Gwynn) concoct, which some of their nearest and dearest are eventually drawn into, becomes the basis for which trust between them is built.  The Pact is not so much an exercise in secrecy then as trust. It may be that the lie wins but only as an expression of self-sacrifice. Nancy gives of herself in an act of grace that saves the guilty Tamsin (Gabrielle Creevy), complicating the typical formula of the crime drama where the mystery murderer is finally unveiled and given their comeuppance. There is no good and evil as solidly defined categories here. Instead, everyone falls short in their own way, having to pay penance for their actions on the night of Jack’s death, to paraphrase Nancy. Her response is, perhaps not surprisingly, steeped in a theology of sin and atonement which, though far from straightforward, still leaves plenty of food for thought on the place of justice and truth.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=keZlsq6KQcw

When I came to The Pact, I was expecting to comment on its place within the landscape of Welsh TV drama. It is certainly an interesting addition to the canon, with its strong Welsh cast supplemented by a scattering of British stars representing a Wales with fluid borders; a community with a recognisably local identity but peppered with the accents of Scots and English settlers. It is not quite the bilingualism of a Bang or Hinterland but neither is it a homogenously accented whole. It has given Eiry Thomas an opportunity to take on a role that sees her come into her own, her star turn opposite heavyweights like Eddie Marsan (Arwel) and Hesmondhalgh announcing her as an accomplished lead. Rakie Ayola is superb as deadpan detective DS Hammond, her commanding presence softened beautifully by her dry wit and no-nonsense comment. Meanwhile, Abbie Hern makes her debut acting role as Tish a memorable one, her performance opposite Heledd Gwynn making her one to watch for the future. However, for all its stunning shots of the landscape, its subtly effective music and excellent cast, it is the narrative themes that have really drawn me into this drama and kept my interest throughout. The Pact has been a thought-provoking crime thriller which has left me with something to think about.

Click here to watch the series.

Written by
Gareth Williams

Review Welcome Back, Justin Teddy Cliffe by Leslie R. Herman Jones

Full disclosure: I like this guy.

A conflict of interest may be real, potential, or perceived. You must disclose all actual and potential conflicts of interest promptly.[1]

I have only known and admired him in a professional context. Done.

#welcomeback, #justinteddycliffe.

In the fateful words of JTC, ‘everything online is weird and nebulous’, and the ‘South Wales-based performer + theatre maker-come-nonsensical ideasman’, Justin Teddy Cliffe, is no exception. Weird and nebulous figure large in his show, Welcome Back, livestreaming on YouTube, where his particular brand of weird and nebulous is well-worth watching.

In his 30-40 minute one-man show, Cliffe performs live at Le Pub in Newport (Gwent) to cardboard cut outs, while simultaneously reaching human audiences digitally in cyberspace. Nice juxtaposition.

Self-created, directed and performed, with dramaturgy by Jeremy Linnell, Cliffe shows up in his underwear on a circular stage the size of a lazy susan — enough space for one man and four cans of beer. I’m guessing the mini stage was a creative decision — it had to be tight enough to get an upstage shot of his arse and still get audience reaction.

Cliffe’s brand extends to a kind of civilised vulgarity, which, if you don’t typically dance to the vulgar beat, try it. Cliffe delivers vulgar on the off-beat — it’s charming, it’s gentle — but don’t be fooled, it’s still a roller coaster ride with heightened realism, giving us an up ’n over view of the human condition in all its pitiful frailty, perhaps a view from the ‘Pepsi Max aka The Big One’ he still dreams of, dreams crushed like his beer cans, crushed, to delineate scene changes. And if you do like to dance you won’t want to miss his beat box R&B number, Right on Time (Choreography, Kylie Ann Smith).

 The extent to which Welcome Back is autobiographical isn’t clear. His only character isn’t named. I suggest he represents Everyman. He questions: ’How will we cope going back into the world after having been in survival mode for so long?’ The Universe answers, ‘Who knows, but before you start worrying about all that, why don’t you toast this strange time with a drink or four and dance like it’s the end of the world as we know it.’ And so he does, for all humans and cut-outs to see.

The show deals with mental health, survival modes, memories, self-preservation and accepting change through a contemporary kind of clowning, and backed up by the science of survival we see in a slideshow at the top of the show, designed to assure us when he goes off on one.

His dreams — abstract memories — form the backbone of the show; song, dance and mini-riffs — like the ‘If You Haven’t Done That’ tale about his wild swimming, kombucha drinking, culture growing neighbours — are crack fillers. Cliffe’s recollections are mutually painful  — he hurts, we hurt; he confesses they are ‘not stories I really want to tell, so let’s get on with it,’ a way of bracing himself and suggesting we strap ourselves in, too. And he tackles some tough stuff — but he makes sure that there’s a soft landing, providing billows of laughter at his raucous characterisation and self-styled use of language.

 Justin Teddy Cliffe’s kind of humour begs the world to be a kinder, more humorous place. He manages to deliver raw stories, giving us something to really chew on, and edgy messages, sharp edges you’ve got to be mindful of. The combination is a prescription for our well-being: all that chewing flexes and stretches the brain muscles; and those edges require a wholesome flexibility and navigation skills.

Welcome Back is an essential work out.

Leslie R. Herman Jones

28 May 2021


[1] WGICodeofConductEthics.pdf

Review Come Away By Ethan Clancy

Down the rabbit hole and across to Neverland we go, mix in a personal tragedy and that gives you Come Away. A mixed bag of a film that never seems to know where its own story is going, but yet, there are glimmers of hope within its 94 minute runtime. The film ponders the question ‘What if Alice from Wonderland and Peter Pan were siblings?’ Starring the likes of Angelina Jolie and David Oyelowo, the latter of which steals the show in every scene he is in, but the film primarily focuses on its younger cast, Keria Chansa and Jordan Nash, as the Littleton children, each destined for an adventure. The film takes a look within the imagination of a child, and how certain events, good or bad, can trigger it.

https://youtu.be/9PpfMd5x3pk

Within the time of the 19th Century, a time without technology or the violence we see today. Three children, David Littleton (Reese Yates), Peter Littleton (Jordan Nash) and Alice Littleton (Keria Chansa) enjoy their peaceful life, full of wonder in their tea parties or adventure in their forest, where either imagination can run wild as they can travel, encouraged by their mother Rose Littleton (Angelina Jolie) and their father Jack Littleton (David Oyelowo), the three children enjoy a happy, fun life. Unfortunately, a dark storm is cast over the family, with the accidental death of David, each family member spirals into a dark path in order to cope with their grief, Rose delves deep into the world of alcohol, neglecting Alice, who seeks solace with her aunt Elanor Morrow (Anna Chancellor), whilst Jack delves deep into his mysterious and dangerous past, costing him the safety of his family. As Alice and Peter seek to aid their father, they travel to London to put an end to their family’s tragedy, if it were only that easy.

The film’s two central characters Alice and Peter Pan, each come from a beloved piece of classic literature. Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland, first published in 1865, whilst J.M. Barrie created the character of Peter Pan in a series of novels, the first of which came out in 1902 in his novel, The Little White Bird. Characters and story elements are drawn from both books to create this story, and many characters are found in subtle, but unique and unexpected ways. In fact, some story elements are even taken from the personal history of the authors, for example. J.M. Barrie had an older brother who died in an accident, leaving their mother devastated. J.M. Barrie later attempted to take his siblings’ place in her mother’s eyes. Similar to what Peter did in the story. The idea of the story itself first came to the screenwriter Marissa Kate Goodhill when she graduated from college, after taking a class, she wondered about ‘what if Peter and Alice were siblings’ and began working on the script for the film for years. Directed by Brenda Chapman, the first woman to ever direct an animated film from a major studio, Dreamworks’s The Prince of Egypt.

Her unique vision to the film, brought to life hundreds of different places and characters. Visually, the film looks like it had been ripped straight from an animated Disney movie, bringing a fantasy element, the way she is able to combine the real world as well as the children’s imaginations flow seamlessly, between the false and the real. The visual effects within the first half of the film are flawless. Whilst I do have my issue with the pacing of the first act, the first scene is mind blowing. The children are introduced, as well as establishing the general tone of the film. The characters themselves are a mixed bag, with many of the characters we see, a version of a beloved character from the books. With the exception of the family, each character is given a single character trait in order to make them memorable, however, they do this to the best of their abilities, making some of them extremely memorable. Clarke Peters’ portrayal of the pawn shop owner, the Mad Hatter, makes a lasting impact, and whilst only having a few scenes, he makes a lasting impression on the audience. The same could be said for the character of Elanor Morrow, who is this film’s version of the Queen of Hearts, a much more modern take on her character, with her views on class being her aim driving force, and I do think that her character is generally concerned for her sister as well as Alice, and the scenes of Alice and Elanor together near the start are heart touching. But out of every single character, the character I find we get most attached to is Jack Littleton.

Jack Littleton is perhaps the most interesting character, presented as a good father, and an excellent carver, coming from an unsavoury upbringing within the crime world. He is extremely hard working and sets in motion the story that gets their family into trouble, when after David’s death, he returns to his gambling ways. Whilst I do not think any of the characters is more essential than another, Jack is the character that holds the family together, having connections to both Peter Pan and Alice and Wonderland. After David, I would argue that he is a principal character.

However, despite the film’s highlights, there are a large number of issues that I think could have been fixed with a couple lines of dialogue and better pacing, the film could have been improved, significantly. My first major issue is the film’s pacing, during the first act as we led up to David’s death, the film was extremely slow, apart from the fast paced stellar first scene, the film doesn’t improve from there, until the death of David that is, were the film picks up the pace to deliver that in my opinion, the most interesting act, especially the Jack Littleton plotline. The true calamity however is the third act, by far the worst part of the film, a rushed conclusion that never tells us truly what is going on. I will not spoil the film, but, in the final scenes of the film, we are left to wonder what is real and what is not, leading to confusion, which is quite annoying, another issue with the final act I have is the terrible effects, which I am surprised at, since up to that point, the effects stood strong.

The connection between Alice and Peter was well developed, until it was not. At the essence of their relationship, is a strong dynamic, Alice is a child who wants to grow up, whilst Peter is a child that never wants to grow up, and through the second act, their bond is developed, with David now gone to hold them together, they are forced to find their own way, learning to work together. However, the two characters are too separated through the film, for them to forge a connection that was memorable, and therefore, forgettable. They also bring, A List actors, such as Michael Caine and Derek Jacobi, who only appear for one or two scenes. Scenes that I feel could have been replaced with up and coming actors that could have made the exact same effect.

Michael Caine stars as Charlie in COME AWAY, a Relativity Media release. Credit: Alex Bailey / © Maginot Line, LLC 2020

Ultimately the film is bland, it is something special in my opinion, sure the actors make the best out what they are given, but it is not enough to save them from poor pacing and a story that feels unconnected and unhinged. What makes it even worse we that there was a strong and interesting story within the film, the story of Jack Littleton, I feel that the film could have been much better by focusing much more on this, I feel that, whilst I enjoy that particular aspect, the film fails to catch what made is so interesting in the first place. I enjoy the stories of Peter Pan and Alice and Wonderland, the latter of the two much more, however, by combining them, it was given a muddled story, down the rabbit hole they went, but when the story fell, it never stopped falling.

Signature Entertainment presents Come Away on Blu-ray and DVD on 12th April.

Ethan is a member of The Torch Theatre, Young Film Ambassadors, this is a new scheme for those aged 14-18 in Pembrokeshire that will give opportunities for young people to watch, discuss and review the latest independent, UK & International, and blockbuster films. The scheme will give the young ambassadors the opportunity to get their reviews seen, and, to find out more about cinema and filmmaking in focused workshop sessions for aspiring reviewers with special guest speakers.

Review How Green Was My Valley By Kevin Johnson

⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️⭐️

Sir Anthony Hopkins was the latest of many Oscar winners with a Welsh connection, one in particular is often overlooked. The greatest film ever made is considered to be Citizen Kane, but it lost out on Best Picture in 1941 to a story about a family of Welsh coal miners. 

https://youtu.be/SWthT6_MTHk

How Green Was My Valley is about the Morgan family, and set between 1890-1914. It tells of the lives of Gwilym, his wife Beth, and their seven children living in a coal mining village in the Rhondda. Derided for its inaccuracies, mining families of the time could barely recognise their own lives. The novel was also far from authentic as the writer, Richard Llewellyn, was the son of Welsh parents who ran a pub in London. Born and raised there, he had an English accent, and never set foot in Wales until he was an adult. Most of the background came from listening to stories told by others, and written while on army service in India. The rights were bought by Fox for $300,000 and adapted by American screenwriter Philip Dunne, who had no idea about Wales. It wasn’t even filmed there: The original intent was to make it on location, in colour, and as a four hour epic like Gone With The Wind, but the outbreak of World War Two ended that. Instead an entire village was built in Malibu Creek State Park, taking 150 builders six months and costing $110,000, with the hill painted black to look like coal slag.

Studio executives also watered down the politics of the story, uneasy with its pro-union and socialist message. Gwilym Morgan is seen as being an independent leader, opposed to unions. Most of his sons disagree, and it is this issue that eventually leads to the decline of both the Morgan family and the valley itself.

The biggest criticism of the film is the poor Welsh accents by the actors, as there was only one Welsh person in the entire cast. Rhys Williams from Clydach plays Dai Bando, the miner who teaches Huw how to box. The rest are Irish, Scottish, English and even Canadian. One of the better accents comes from Mr Parry the chapel deacon, played by Arthur Shields. The brother of Barry Fitzgerald who plays Cyfartha, he fought in the Easter Rebellion in 1916 and was imprisoned afterwards in a camp in Frongoch, Wales. Oddly enough John Loder (Ianto Morgan) was a British officer and fought on the other side.

Despite the criticism it should be remembered that the film won 5 Oscars, and brought Wales to the attention of the world. It also managed to create a genuine feeling of Welshness by using traditional songs & hymns, such as Men of Harlech, Cwm Rhondda and Calon Lan, employing most of the Welsh singers in California. For me it has the one thing that Citizen Kane lacked, heart.

There is one scene in particular that captures the poetry, sadness and humour that are endemic to Wales: a disaster brings everyone to the mine, including Dai Bando, his constant companion Cyfartha, and Mr Gruffydd, the preacher who was about to leave the valley. With men still trapped, he appeals for volunteers to rescue them:

Mr. Gruffydd: “Who is for Gwilym Morgan and the others?”

Dai Bando: “I, for one. He is the blood of my heart. Come Cyfartha.”

Cyfartha: “Tis a coward I am. But I will hold your coat.”

The film left its mark on several of the cast and crew: Anna Lee (Bronwyn) became pregnant halfway through filming, Maureen O’Hara later named her daughter Bronwyn, Donald Crisp & Beth Allgood (Mr & Mrs Morgan) were nominated for Best Supporting Oscars, with Crisp winning, and John Ford won his third Best Director Oscar. The film also won cinematography and for Art Direction, due mainly to the village set. Although many believe Citizen Kane to have been robbed, I think that at a time when the world was going to war, a film about a family struggling to stay together through tragedy was the right choice.

“Men like my father cannot die. They are with me still – real in memory as they were in flesh, loving and beloved forever. How green was my Valley then.”

Review, Keeping Faith, Series 3, BBC/S4C, by Gareth Williams

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

There is a moment in the final series of Keeping Faith when Eve Myles becomes Celia Imrie. The transformation is extraordinary. There is no CGI or special effects; rather, just Eve Myles doing what Eve Myles does best. It’s why we’ll miss her as Faith, the gutsy, emotional, steely and vulnerable lawyer who has been through the ringer, so to speak, over three series of the hit Welsh drama. Throughout that time, Myles has more than embodied the character. She has become her. And in this, her final swansong, Imrie has matched her star quality as Faith’s cold, manipulative and deliciously deceitful mother, Rose. Together, the two of them have simply sparkled onscreen. Their sparring matches have been so emotionally explosive that they have enthralled and exhilarated in equal measure. The introduction of Faith’s backstory has been a stroke of genius by the show’s creator, Matthew Hall, and these two acting heavyweights have helped to make it so. However, they are by no means the sole contributors to its success.

What made the first series of Keeping Faith so hugely popular was not just the superb acting talent of Eve Myles but the strong cast of characters that surrounded her. Keeping Faith has always been, at its heart, a drama about family. It is to Hall’s credit that he has managed to retain this as the central focus, the effect being, in this final series, a real depth to those supporting characters, whose arcs are as important to and invested in by the audience as Faith’s. Catherine Ayers deserves special mention for her heartrending portrayal of Lisa’s alcoholism, the scene at her first AA meeting being one of many powerful moments in this final series. The quiet resolve grown in Tom by Aneirin Hughes is another that has been beautiful to watch, with the presence of strong women, such as Suzanne Packer’s Delyth, being key to this change. I have loved watching Demi Letherby and Lacey Jones grow in their roles as Alice and Megan respectively, each bringing a different temperament that perfectly matches the stubbornness and fragility of Faith herself. Then there is the warm and gentle manner of Steve, who is played to perfection by Mark Lewis Jones, opposite the increasingly jealous and controlling Evan, played by Bradley Freegard. These two men have been magnificent, circling around the magnetic Myles with performances that have helped steer the romantic element away from soppy sentimentality, and ensured that the depiction of a relationship breakdown has been studiously honest and suitably dramatic. Such significant attention to detail has been the difference in ensuring that Keeping Faith has not just been engaging drama but has won the devotion of many fans too.

This devotion has also been generated, in no small part, by its memorable soundtrack. Amy Wadge was rightfully recognised for her musical contribution to the original series, with ‘Faith’s Song’ proving incredibly popular even outside of the series’ run. It returns in this final instalment with a greater appreciation than its more intrusive presence in series two. There is a mixture of recognisable favourites and brand-new compositions, all of which complement the action onscreen. It is in the final scenes though that the emotional weight of the title track in particular is laid heavily on the shoulders of the audience. The complete absence of music in the last episode before this point contributes to the tear-jerking moments that follow. The appearance of Osian (Keogh Kiernan) – having survived the operation that Faith fights so hard for in this series – Alice’s poignant speech, and the intimacy of Faith and Lisa as they walk across the beach to the sea, is enough to get the lip quivering. But it’s the presence of that iconic yellow coat, now firmly worn by Faith, and accompanied by her song, that really starts the waterworks off. It ensures a truly satisfying end to a show that has changed the face of Welsh drama, and been taken to the hearts of so many in Wales and beyond.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7gzZEtiusO4

From its humble beginnings as Un Bore Mercher on S4C to its primetime slot on Saturday night BBC1, Keeping Faith has been a juggernaut of a drama. It is rare that I get on my hobby horse but I think it’s important, given the constant criticism levelled at its news output, that the future of the BBC and its licence fee is not debated on such a narrow-minded understanding of the corporation to the detriment of gems such as this. Keeping Faith demonstrates the BBC’s commitment and ability to produce quality Welsh drama that is made in Wales, for the people of Wales, but with the potential to reach beyond Wales too. It may not always get it right (see Pitching In) but without it, there is little evidence to suggest that the commercial channels will step up to the mark. The Pembrokeshire Murders (ITV) may represent a rare foray into Welsh representation. However, its risk-taking (a true story crime drama) leaves a lot to be desired. Keeping Faith is unlikely to have been made without the backing of the BBC & S4C. Could its success herald the possibility of a sea-change? I doubt it. But whatever happens, we will always be grateful for Faith Howells. So thank you, Matthew Hall. Thank you, Eve Myles.

Click here to watch the whole series.

Review written by
Gareth Williams