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| Courtesy of Searchlight Pictures |
Movies about the industry that generates them
are hardly new but rarely has such a film year seen so many of them. The latest paean to the moving image is American
Beauty and 1917 director Sam Mendes’ Empire of Light: a semi-autobiographical
drama about a small-town English movie theater running sometime in the early
1980s starring white Olivia Colman as Hilary, a troubled neurotic theater lobby
worker who finds herself falling for younger black newly hired Stephen (Michael
Ward) who quickly ascends the ranks to become the theater’s main projectionist.
Her daily
routine of “performing” in front of and behind the curtain is upended by the
arrival of Stephen, an intelligent and sensitive man who initially starts as
the object of Hilary’s scorn but soon winds up stealing the unbalanced woman’s
heart. As their relationship blossoms
and longstanding resentments and anger towards her predatory boss start to crop
up in outbursts, their relationship as coworkers and secret lovers grows more fraught
with anxiety and a measure of dysfunction Stephen finds himself increasingly at
odds with.
Written (his first), produced and directed by Sam Mendes,
this impassioned schmaltzy/ugly portrait of the old movie palace dedicated to Arclight
film projection and those who ran it is a technically brilliant powerfully
acted and achingly beautifully scored piece that given all of its dramatic
weight oddly lands with the soft lightness of a feather. Despite dramatizing intense psychotic breaks
with the Oscar winning Olivia Colman at her most bug-eyed fever pitched mad,
strong supporting performances from the always good Colin Firth and the
sensitive, nuanced performance by Michael Ward, somehow it doesn’t add up to
much more than learning something about yourself and being all the better for
it. Somewhat disappointing considering
the technical and professional pedigree of the piece.
What can be said that hasn’t been said already about Roger
Deakins? The man is one of the greatest
living cinematographers, so much so even casual moviegoers who don’t pay close
attention to such ‘insignificant’ details seem to know the name of
Deakins. Paired with Sam Mendes in his
fourth collaboration with the director, the two make the interior decorum of
the very real Dreamland Margate Cinema building which was remodeled for the
film into a palace filled with magic. Replete
with all the splendor and deterioration mixed, Deakins’ camera almost lovingly prances
through this kind of wonderland with joyous glee.
Then there’s the film’s score by Trent Reznor
and Atticus Ross, their second effort geared towards movie experiences of the
past following David Fincher’s divisive Mank. Stoking the awe and wonderment of their score
for Pixar’s Soul while scratching abrasions in heavier scenes
reminiscent of their Nine Inch Nails music, the soundscape of Empire of
Light has the unique temperature of chilly warmth, saccharine when it isn’t
sad.
Unlike her lecherous boss
cheating on his wife with Hilary for office “visits”, played with icky relish
by the always great Colin Firth, Ward makes Stephen into a caring and even
heroic figure who grows steadily unsure of how to deal with Hilary’s unraveling
meltdown. Turning over a nice if not
overqualified bit of casting is Toby Jones as Norman the theater’s main
projectionist who takes Stephen under his wing and passes on the knowledge of
running two Arclight film projectors.
Everyone’s entitled a lark if not a confessional and Sam
Mendes picked the year Tinseltown took a good hard look at itself, but for all
the high quality filmmaking, music and top tier acting Empire of Light ends
up being somewhat of a yawn. Yes the
film is rife with tributes to everyone from Kubrick (look at the theater lobby
carpet for The Shining patterns) to posters for The Day of the Locust
and The Elephant Man to mentions of the world gala premiere of Chariots
of Fire taking place at the film’s titular theater.
And yet for all of its likes and dislikes
about what goes on behind the scenes at a movie palace, Empire of Light winds
up being much ado about not much at all in the end unfortunately. A light/heavy personal yarn that offers up
strong technical suits and great acting, Mendes’ love letter to the movies that
shaped who he is as an artist today doesn’t do a whole lot other films about
films from this year did with greater emotional impact. But it might make you feel cozy and leave you
with a smile on your face.
--Andrew Kotwicki
