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FILM Courtney Byrne Rory Kiberd Tom Lordan Michae
l McDermott Jack O’Higgins illustration Jacky Sheridan The Day Shall Come Director: Chris Morris Talent: Anna Kendrick, Marchánt Davis, Danielle Brooks, Denis O’Hare Release: 11 October “Are you ready to see the accidental dominance of the white race overthrown?” – Marchánt Davis stars as Moses, the leader of a small-time cult in Miami, in Chris Morris’ first film since Four Lions in 2010. The day has come – Chris Morris has graced us with his second feature film. Nine years after Four Lions, Morris brings us The Day Shall Come, a satirical black comedy thriller centred around the frantic efforts of the FBI to neutralise terrorist cells. ‘Based on a hundred true stories’ sprawled across the screen as an introduction, Morris immediately establishes the film as more than a comedic romp. The Day Shall Come straddles two stories: that of Moses and his army of four harmlessly deluded black jihads who protest the gentrification of black neighbourhoods and pray to Allah and Black Santa alike; and that of the FBI’s counterterrorism squad, who poke and prod potential threats hoping to pre-empt (or incite) attacks. Moses (Marchánt Davis) and his followers peacefully await Allah’s destruction of the ‘cranes of the gentrifiers’ that dominate Miami. Meanwhile, the FBI flail blindly, hoping to land upon a real terrorist threat. Their primary motive? Not to keep their people from harm, but to look like they are doing so. Agent Kendra Glack (Anna Kendrick) unearths Moses’s small-time cult, and plants undercover criminals who lead Moses and his flock further and further astray, tempting them with money, guns, and nuclear materials. It’s farcical – this desperate attempt of the FBI to provoke and radicalise Moses, but try as he might, he just can’t seem to extricate himself from their schemes. With a star-studded cast – Anna Kendrick, Danielle Brooks, Denis O’Hare – the acting is pretty solid. But it’s breakout actor Marchánt Davis who brings a touch of heart to the film, makBest Before Death Director: Paul Duane Release: 11 October In the late 1980s, two British artist-musicians started an electronica duo named The KLF. In the following decade the pair had a slew of chart-topping records, fired blanks from a machine gun into a terrified audience at the Brits, and filmed the burning of one million pounds in the Scottish Hebrides. King Boy D, the alias of Bill Drummond, is now a man in his 60s embarking on a decade-long art project called The 25 Paintings World Tour (2014-2025), the execution of which involves Drummond traveling between countries, repeating the same low-key events (or performances or happenings) in each city he stays in. Beneath large painted signs which announce the artist’s task, Drummond shines shoes, makes beds, cooks soup and bakes cakes. This film focuses on a two-year period of the artist’s project, split between Lexington, Kentucky and Calcutta. Drummond is both a good and bad subject for documentary. Single-mindedness bordering on obsession is a quality the screen loves, apparent in so many iconic subjects of film, from The Artist is Present to Fitzcarraldo. But Drummond is also hostile to the role of either explanation or conceptualisation in art – any attempt made by others to interpret it is met with a kind of blank grin, as though they were the ‘arty’ eejits trying to explain something very simple. This pose can wear thin for the viewer, especially when it surfaces with polite young Indian women asking Drummond why he does what he does. He’s not a shit though, and when he relaxes – with the Lexington folk in particular – his charisma comes to the fore. The impact of his art is for anyone to judge, but the film elegantly captures the labour involved in making. An interesting, if somewhat flat, study of a notable contemporary artist. TL ing Moses a sympathetic character rather than just a misguided believer. But into Morris’s forte: comedy. Over those 90 minutes, Morris thrusts an abundance of jokes on his viewers. A barrage of witty insults, farcical situations, and wacky absurdism roll in, the next joke beginning before the dust has settled on the previous. Embarrassingly though, the majority of these jokes miss the mark. You practically have to scrape some of them off the soles of your shoes, they fall so flat. Yes, there were a few comical moments, the odd scatter of laughter about the room, but the comedy was largely ineffectual. Morris has come a long way since Four Lions with its pittance of a production budget, but a bigger budget does not a better movie make. The Day Shall Come lives in the shadow of its predecessor. But let’s face it: in the current social and political climate there was no way Morris could make another Four Lions. Its genius was in its fearlessness, its shock value and its unguarded irreverence. But today nothing’s shocking. Not when you’re following Trump on Twitter. Shock no longer carries the same value. We’ve seen it all before. Despite its shortcomings, The Day Shall Come marks an interesting move away from comedy at the expense of terrorists, towards comedy at the expense of those who are expected to defend us against terrorists. Morris hones in on manipulative counterterrorism tactics and the questionable morality of deliberately inciting groups to violence. He probes us to look at those who claim to protect us and ask ourselves: do they make us feel safe because they disarm real threats, or because we are desperate to believe they do? CB A Bump Along the Way Director: Shelly Love Talent: Bronagh Gallagher, Lola Petticrew Release: 11 October Good time girl Pamela (Gallagher), a single mother in her mid-40s, has a drunken tryst with a 24-year-old plumber. Much to her disbelief, Pamela becomes pregnant, despite believing she could never have another child. This proves too much for her daughter Allegra (Petticrew), who is already in a permanent state of mortification due to her mother’s antics – a clever inversion in which daughter is disapproving and mother is hedonistic. With a crisp script from Tess McGowan – who was pregnant while writing the film – and clear-eyed direction by Shelly Love, this Derry-set film is absorbing and rings true. When mother and daughter clash, there isn’t some big reconciliation scene that follows. Things just slowly simmer down, true to the rhythms of life. The performances are stellar. Gallagher does a fine job of pulling off a tricky role in which she has to be both likeable and somewhat irresponsible. She succeeds with aplomb, her irreverent lifestyle never compromising her warmth. Petticrew – a compelling actor who I predict big things for – matches Gallagher. Allegra can be a haughty vegan, though she is also vulnerable and caring. On the one hand, we see her trying hard to navigate a school where she has to endure abusive behaviour, and on the other, we see her shouting tyrannically at her hungover mother, calling her ‘pathetic’. Her performance is utterly truthful. Male characters are less sympathetic, confined to either being monstrously self-serving – Allegra’s father and the plumber who impregnates Pamela – or pathetically ineffectual – Allegra’s art teacher, whose attempts to stop classroom bullying are pitiful. Still, this is the two females’ story, so it makes sense that they’d be depicted with more nuance. Things end perhaps a little too neatly, with closing scenes that feel rather perfunctory given the emotional complexity developed throughout the film. Nevertheless, this is an otherwise solid film with a lot going for it. RK 76