“My Summer of Love” reveals the complexities of class, sex and friendship in the lives of two very different teenage girls in England. Against the background of their separate family problems, this begins as a tale of a summer of exuberant, melodramatic rebellion. Working class Mona thrills in the delights of her wealthy friend’s fabulous home, conveniently free of parents. Posh Tamsin enjoys impressing her new pet with her shaky grasp of Nietzsche and art, and woeful tales of eating disorders.
The heady summer atmosphere created with lush, lazy camerawork and subtle, natural performances from the girls, would have made this a fine character study even if it had stopped there. However, filmmaker Pawel Pawlikowski masterfully takes the story further. Not further in a shocking way, but in a profound series of realizations on the part of his perfectly-drawn players.
Contributing significantly to this achievement is supporting actor Paddy Considine (“In America”) as Mona’s born-again Christian ex-con brother. He brings to the part no hint of mocking, but a true, intense belief that breaks his sister’s heart. The death of her parents, plus her perceived loss of any semblance of her brother’s former personality, brings true gravity to her character. He has turned their family’s pub, in which they also reside, into a full time fanatic hangout, where he often prays aloud for his sister’s soul.
As the summer languorously unfolds, the girls’ relationship, inevitably, turns sexual. Fortunately, this predictable stage is another element of their lavishly self-indulgent summer, and not the entire point. This film is much more complex than that. As their relationship solidifies and they drop their pretenses, the stakes are slowly raised. And we realize that summer cannot last forever. The ending is emotionally satisfying, but not neat and clean, as Mona sets certain things straight in her relationships with her brother and Tasmin. Her growth is subtle but powerful, and to see such a well-drawn heroine come-of-age so realistically, movingly, and vibrantly is nothing short of beautiful.
“My Summer of Love” is currently available to rent.
Scary Potter
A great deal has been made about the PG-13 rating for the latest Harry Potter, “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” but I have to say it really is scary. Well, maybe not “Silence of the Lambs” scary, but certainly intense. I would think kids would be petrified and traumatized by all the action, the scary Ralph Fiennes as arch-villain Voldemort, a creepy underwater sequence and the death of a charming, sympathetic major character. This is to say nothing of the terrorist attack, perpetrated by KKK-esque bad wizards, at the massively populated Quidditch World Cup in the film’s first 10 minutes.
This film, like the one before it, leaves the initial, crappy Chris Columbus-directed ones in the dust, with better characterization, skillful novel-to-screen adapting and genuinely imaginative production values. Touches like a giant victrola, a splendid flying carriage, and the transformation of the main hall into an ice palace, are a few of the first moments that come to mind. At this point, the movies have become good, fun movies, not the glorified books-on-tape that began the series.
In addition to the more-exciting action and violence, the Hogwarts gang is now teenaged, which brings its own excitement. Excruciating adolescent encounters abound, and the film is richer for them. It is also all the better for the visiting characters, such as the French giantess who woos the huge Hagrid, an all-too-brief encounter with Gary Oldman, and above all, Brendan Gleeson as an instructor with a crazy rolling eye set in an eye-patch. He plays basically the same blustery Irish scene-stealer he has been since “Braveheart,” which is just fine.
Any parents taking their kids to see this should look forward to it, rather than dread a boring, two-hours-plus, fantasy fest, and many without kids can, like me, admit to liking it without shame. If you have young kids, of course, you will have to dread the years of nightmares and bedwetting that will result from exposure to the devastating final scenes — Ralph Fiennes looks even scarier than he did in “The English Patient.”
“Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” is now playing at every theater, every hour on the hour, or so it seems.
Contact Asia Frey at afrey@lagniappemobile.com.
Archives
The Reel World
