reeledinburgh

This film is supremely stylish throughout. It informs the viewer about the reputation of the regime, the political pressures from the USA, the fear of attack from the North and the desire to replicate Japan without ever patronising the viewer of shoving it down your throat.

The lead performances, particularly that of the KCIA agents, are outstanding. The film exudes style in every shot, from the 'Blue House' as the quintessential VIP 'entertainment venue' to the military fatigues in the army HQ. The cars and suits demonstrate an appreciation of the kind of Hong Kong cinema Tarantino is so fond of plundering.

The film's triumph is to never let you sympathise or detest one character too much, that ambiguity allows for the stock of characters to rise and fall as their motives become at the same time clearer and more misguided.

Visually arresting with realistic and extreme violence the film is not for the faint hearted.

A pile of hemorrhoids, - uncomfortable crap.

There is so much wrong with this that I don't know where to start.

The direction is all shaky cameras, weird angles, mono cuts to colour etc. Nothing wrong with that you may think, expect that this is not between scenes or to add sense of perspective. This was just to say that 'my goodness, life in a newspaper office is a fast paced, chemically fuelled trip don't you know'.

I have in the past despaired at those Daily Mail types who moan every time a shaky camera is used but inducing headaches amongst your audience detracts from the content. Moving everything around constantly, and I mean constantly, only draws attention to the fact that there is nothing worth watching at the centre. By not allowing the audience to watch the actors you are forced to listen to the god awful script.

The script or lack thereof is the other major failing. The director, Mary McGurkin, informed us that the script was improvised but presumably the idea of a Fleet St editor, shagging the proprietor's wife and the ensuing power struggle for the direction of the paper was the basis for the funding. Some filmmakers can use improvisation to develop performances and create something great, Mary unfortunately can not. The problem is that the narrative is more akin to a Jeffrey Archer novel than a biting piece of satire. Armando Iannuci, Bird and Fortune etc clean their shoes with scripts like these.

I would honestly say this is one of the most annoying, self knowing and sanctimonious films for sometime, possibly (but probably not) all time. I have never seen so many walkouts, (this was a Gala premiere remember) especially when the content was not in the least bit shocking or challenging.

There is a kernel of a funny satire but it is, like most kernels of corn, it is trapped in crap. Just another rubbish British comedy.

This harrowing portrayal of loss, love and cows is an emotional journey which juxtaposes a couples' grief at losing a child with the grief of the Kosovars after the genocide.

Jean is a farmer trying to rebuild his life after his daughters death while his wife becomes increasingly detached both from him and reality. The bleakness of the landscape, the unspoken blame for the death of his daughter and the pressure from his family weighs Jean down to such an extent that we can feel him carrying his burden as he moves about every scene.

As Jean finds farming increasingly unable to sustain him and the cost of care for his wife he takes work in town at the fabrication factory where he befriends a young Kosovar. Through him he meets his sister who lost her husband during the genocide. The resilience of the Kosovar community who have suffered such great horrors is contrasted with the private grief of a father.

The film is a wonderfully honest depiction of relationships and love, and if you allow it, proves highly rewarding viewing.