LAMPEDUSA... AN IMMIGRANT'S EYE VIEW...

Anders Lustgarden’s new show Lampedusa tackles a problem we all seem to be constantly preoccupied with – “them bloody immigrants”. A political activist known for his provocative plays, Lustgarten was definitely a good choice for this piece, commissioned as part of the Soho Theatre’s political party season. Now, I have casually mentioned that I have now taken up training as an actress. I have, in this context, been going to a lot of plays. I can’t afford to do it as voraciously as I watch films but it’s a start! I have always ever been a film critic. I have a Masters degree in Film Studies and thousands of hours of viewing to base my opinions on. Therefore I am rather nervous holding forth about a form of art in which I am very much a novice. That said, I have a rather unique perspective on this play. It filled my head and heart so much, I had to share. So here we have it, my “review”... Now, to understand why I feel this way, you need to know a bit about me. More importantly you need to know what I had been doing that morning. Bear with me for a paragraph – and trust me, it all ties in with the play.  

The thing is, I am an immigrant. Let me clarify that, I’m not exactly the kind of immigrant you see on tragic stories on the news. I didn’t come over in a small compartment of a truck or a tiny boat crossing a stormy sea. I flew over on a plane and – thanks to my inherited citizenship and UK passport – swanned in through border control and started my life in the UK. Half English and half Turkish – doomed to be a Turk here and an Englishwoman in Turkey – I grew up in Istanbul. I now work as a waitress on a zero hour contract even though I have a master’s degree and speak four foreign languages. There are a variety of reasons for this, I have a rather strange CV (combination of some unfortunate educational choices and professional experience in companies back home in Istanbul that people can barely pronounce, much less accept as legitimate previous experience) so an office job, try as I might, was a closed door. I had to eat somehow. So I wait tables. Oh it hurt my pride at first… But I’m over “it” and you should be too – the way I see it you have an office job you don’t particularly like and I have a non-office job I don’t particularly like. Besides, I write, I train to be an actress, my life is very, very full.  The day I went to see Lampedusa, I had had the first job interview – for an office job – I had had in years. Don’t hold your breath, I blew it. I was a nervous, tooth-sucking wreck. As I write this post I don’t know the result of the interview but based on my performance I wouldn’t give me the job. I didn’t cry per se on my way back but, full disclosure, there was a bit of excess moisture here and there. I left home for a variety of reasons and ranging from the intensely personal to the political situation of my home country and all these mean I will very probably never go back to Turkey and call it home again. But that evening I felt beaten. I had applied to this job on a whim and heard a response over a month later, well after I had made my peace with the fact that I had received yet another rejection. Now all this time later a door opens, and like a fool, my nerves and I kick it shut. That was at 10.00 a.m. The day went by in a charcoal grey haze as I weighed up whether or not I could be bothered to make the trek to Soho to watch Lampedusa. I almost didn’t go. Almost. But then again, I am middle-eastern. And on a zero hour contract. Every penny I earn is precious and I had paid for this show.  I would be darned if I would waste it.

Thus I found myself entering the cold upper room of the Soho theatre. Interesting layout, tiny circular stage, inches from the ground proper. No décor or props. Benches placed in a circle around the stage – with the option to sit in stalls a little further away. I opted for the benches, as close to the front as I could. I then looked around me to see what my fellow spectators were doing -  and spotted the opening gimmick. Two of them to be precise. I won’t ruin it for those who want to see it but let me tell you, it’s good. It made me sit up and think “ok, this show was a good choice”. And then, the show began…

  Without the aid of décor or props, Stephano (Ferdy Roberts) and Denise (Louise Mai Newberry) tell us their stories… Stephano lives on Lampedusa. Once a fisherman, he now fishes for a different harvest… His job is to pull the bodies of drowned immigrants out of the island’s stormy waters every day. Denise works on another island, the United Kingdom. She is the hand who knocks at your door when your pay day loan is due. She has a doctorate in desperation and squalor, regardless of the nationality. They both have their own views on immigrants.  And as they unburden their souls, they aim to change yours…

A play that harks back to old fashioned storytelling, Lampedusa relies on its two cast members who tell their stories in turn, sometimes their face inches from yours, sometimes with their back to you from the end of the room, sometimes under lights so dim you can barely see. And yet, the electric atmosphere never flags and I was spellbound throughout. Yes you need to get over the fact that the characters are looking you square in the eye as they speak and that you physically rub shoulders with them at times throughout the show. But once you are draw “in” to this setup Mr Roberts and Ms Newberry’s unflagging energy means you are guaranteed a whirlwind of emotion at the best of times.

But in my case, the play resonated with so many truths. The first jolt came when Stephano said a dead body felt like handling a slippery rubbish bag. I’ll tell you this much, next time a supervisor tells me to take out the trash she is going to get a very funny look from me indeed – being full of food waste a lot of them are quite slippery. The jokes about qualified biologists and geneticists working in kitchens also struck a chord – my colleagues are university graduates almost to a man – though none of our qualifications “count” in the UK. I also nodded ferociously when Denise was talking about being mixed race. I don’t look conventionally Turkish – I am quite fair skinned and eat pork – so you’d pass me on the street without a second thought but talk to me more than five minutes, once you get past my Rp accent (thanks Mom) I get “Wait, where are you from?”. I make everyone who asks guess first, with no exception. I almost never get Turkish, and after that, half the time I get told “I don’t look it”. The odd thing is, it is almost definitely meant as a compliment – and yet it makes me feel very weird when people say it… What can I say, its mighty strange being a stranger in this town… But the best bit for me came when Stephano was telling us that (I’m paraphrasing here) that immigrants brought hope. A weird kind of hope, starry eyed and naïve mixed with knowledge of unimaginable suffering and demons such as war and famine hounding them so much that all they can do is leave. And hope. I wonder if Mr. Roberts would be amused to know that there was an actual immigrant sitting mere feet from him, feeling utterly broken. The comment did make me think though. I had to hope. I had come so far, started from scratch, made a life for myself that I am improving day by day… And if those in the midst of famine and war can find enough hope to drag themselves onto a tiny boat run by shady characters that they know full well might kill them I, with a roof over my head and no fear of deportation, can find the strength to make it through the day. I then went home feeling considerably less grey, went to bed early and slept for almost 12 hours. I am pretty much my old self writing this, the next day.

So there you have it. An immigrants eye view of Lampedusa. I can testify to there being very, very real bits in Denise’s story. I shudder to think how accurate Stephano’s story is. You should go see it before it finishes. Step out of your comfort zone. Get yourself shaken up a bit. Who knows, like me, you might even find a bit of hope…   

Curious ?Missed the show ? Check out the soundcloud recording of the text on the right hand side of this entry! 

OH MY TAIL AND WHISKERS...

So, right in the middle of the busiest season in cinema, I've taken up acting. Am just training and doing am-dram at the moment but you know. The point is it does take up a goodly part of my schedule. It doesn't really matter though at the end of the day - the only thing that has happened is that I am getting better and better at logistics and time management. I do somehow have to squeeze more than 24 hours out of each day!

That said, it's a mission in itself keeping up with all the news out there right now. I mean San Diego Comic Con alone has generated enough news to keep us all going for a week or more. I had my eyes out on stalks these last few days, but of course I had a special slot saved for the news from my fave director QT and The Hateful Eight. The film is due to be released in the UK on 70mm (QT is still obstinately refusing to go anywhere near digital) in January 2016. And I'll be among the first queuing to get in...

The other thing to keep ontop of is, of course, the releases to cinema. My  prediliction for real life stories continues as the two films I am desperate to see are Asif Kapadia's now record breaking documentary Amy and this little number... Starring Paul Dano, one of my favourite actors of the generation, it's Love and Mercy, the story of Beach Boys frontman Brian Wilson and his battle with 

 psychosis. It looks hard to watch but I will definitely be giving it a spin...

Another film we just can't seem to stop hearing about - despite the fact that it is not due until 2016 - is Suicide Squad. From striking stills to intreaguing news that the cast have therapists on hand to stop them going "too deep" into their character work (not to mention the whole story about Jake Gylenhaal sending his fellow cast members various dead animals) the film seems determined to hype itself up as much as it can... It remains to be seen if the film will be able to live up to the hype it has created but ... You have to admit the stills are rather striking... 

 Well kids, over and out for now... But check me out on Twitter and on my various other outlets (see top right hand corner) where I continue to muse on films! Sorry for the delay this week - and see y'all very soon! 

Essie 

LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT "MY WEEK WITH MARILYN"

I have an embarrassing confession to make. Before this whole Oscar malarkey happened with A Theory of Everything, I hadn’t really heard of Eddie Redmayne. I’m trying not to feel too bad about it, judging from the sheer volume of Eddie Redmayne films now emerging on TV, the powers that be are banking on a lot of other people not having seen the films or heard of him either. Still, these films were out there and they weren’t exactly kept on the hush – hush so how I managed to miss him so completely is a bit of a mystery to me…

That said, here is yet another film by Eddie Redmayne that I personally had never heard of. Or I mean I had, but I had no idea that it was such a star-spangled cast, that it starred Eddie Redmayne (and that he was quite so good in short, I had no idea what I had missed out on. Marilyn Monroe is without a shadow of a doubt one of the most iconic women that ever walked the earth. Her mystery and how truly complicated she was, no doubt is now an integral part of her mystique. She is Marilyn because she is so hard to understand. This is the true story of a one-week long look a regular lad got into her world…

Colin Clark (Eddie Redmayne) has just launched himself into the world of film. He has started from the very bottom – and at 3^rd A.D. it doesn’t really get closer to the bottom than that – but he is quick witted and sociable, so set to go far. And as luck would have it the very first film he finds himself on is The prince and the showgirl starring (in case you didn’t know) Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams), Sir Lawrence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh) and Dame Sybil Thorndike (Judi Dench), it doesn’t really get much bigger than this. The trouble is, of course, Marilyn is, well, Marilyn… Notoriously difficult to work with for all kinds of reasons, within mere hours of arriving Marilyn risks throwing the entire production in to jeopardy. Colin’s job is to “manage” things and try as best he can to make sure things are running smoothly. This is how he ends up so close to Marilyn… And like a moth in front of a flame,   he cannot take his eyes off her….

First of all, of course, it was an iconic and wonderful love story. The eternal attraction of a “nobody” (Colin is the son of a very rich and privileged family, true,  but this means nothing on the film set. Well I mean apart from that this is what got his foot through the door, but I’ll let you discover that as you go along), anyway, a nobody,   capturing the heart of an icon dreamt of by millions is present here. Add the attraction of an “insight” into someone like Monroe with the aid of a “personal diary” pulls the crowds right in. And as the film attempts to provide this insight, I have to say, Michelle Williams is simply mind-boggling as Marilyn. Her chemistry with Redmayne’s young and naïve Colin is really extraordinary.  Of course how much of an insight we get we can actually never know. Even if Colin’s diary was followed to the letter (and in these adaptations this is a rare thing, as most of us know by now) how accurately  and objectively does the diary describe the enigma that was Marilyn? Williams captures and channels the energy of the on screen Monroe perfectly and displays a thought-provoking performance for the off stage one. If nothing else, this is definitely a film to build a dream on.

Redmayne’s part is one that could actually have been given to a young Hugh Grant back in  his day. Luckily the canny young actor has gracefully side-stepped being typecast and has taken on bigger and more complicated roles since. It’s by no means an original role for him, the typical ingénue getting to know the magical, cynical world that is acting and cinema. He pulls it off with aplomb, as does Emma Watson (who I haven’t had a moment to mention up to this point) who has a secondary and unenviable role of Colin’s initial love interest and Marilyn Monroe’s “rival”.

The other thing is of course, we come close to the enigma that was Marilyn but the film doesn’t really “explain” anything. Then again, what is the point of a legend that has been explained to death? We strike the balance, take a closer look only for a minute – pretty much like Colin – and then the curtains close. We are left to our own musings and dreams. But this, as we have said, is as it should be. 

AMERICAN SNIPER - YET ANOTHER CLINT EASTWOOD FILM ?

This was another big name last Oscar season, even though it only managed to take away the award for Sound Editing. Well, with names as big as Clint Eastwood and Bradley Cooper attached it could hardly help being in the limelight. I have infinite respect and admiration for Clint Eastwood. I quote High planes drifter on a regular basis when I write. But I do also have to point out that I – and quite a few other – people have accused him in the past of basically playing himself in films and making the same film over and over again. This time he has a rather extraordinary true story on his hands – so how has he fared? Same film again – or something a little different?

The hero of our story, brought to life by Bradley Cooper is legendary American sniper Chris Kyle. During his four tours in Iraq, Kyle quickly raised to rank of legend through his sheer dedication to service, accuracy when shooting and determination to do what is truly right. The men admire and support him, his superiors admire him and the public read about him with admiration in the papers… But one cannot see the things Kyle has seen without changing. Every time he comes home to his wife and children, Kyle finds it harder and harder to leave the war behind… In fact, even if he does survive the fighting, his memories may well end up consuming him… The question is, will he admit this – even to himself – and start fighting back in time ?

Looking at the list of wins, I can’t help but think that Bradley Cooper deserved a little more than he actually ended up receiving – his performance is pretty much what makes the film not just another Clint Eastwood film. Because given the subject matter, I cannot quite imagine anyone else making this film. And Eastwood makes it exactly the way we imagine he would make it. Kyle was evidently quite an extraordinary man, don’t get me wrong, but the way the story goes, how all American he is throughout, his easy rise to stardom as a sniper… It is all… Just too smooth. Eastwood finishes the film with real footage of Kyles funeral (I reckon his death is not a spoiler as it pretty much counts as common knowledge) which was of course a military, patriotic affair. No wonder his critics accuse Eastwood of tubthumping banality – it is JUST like a  million other films made to show the horrors of war. Smooth, polished but without an original bone in its body.

Take a film like The Hurt Locker. Jeremy Renners character William James is Kyles equivalent in the film and paints a completely different picture. He is a lot harder to like, he is a lot less of a gentleman, he has lost a lot of his positive emotions in all aspects of life and, to be honest, I think he is a much more realistic portrayal of what war can do to a good man. I almost feel the film is in denial about the sheer amount of trauma Kyle would have had to cope with. We do not see the grit and dirt of the matter at all, only the polished surface you present to visitors. 

Which is precisely why I say Bradley Cooper needs a few more accolades for the work he did here. Cooper sticks to the letter of the script, it is true. His character is always polite smiling and courteous, and yet… The nuances, the tiniest gestures, the little moments Cooper manages to insert into his all round good old American cowboy routine give us hair raising insights into what must be going through Kyles mind. It is without a doubt the tonic the films overly varnished surface needed – I just devoutly wish there were more of those hints. If our imaginations were meant to make up the rest of the horrors, well, the film does not give us enough to work with.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that all films pertaining to war should necessarily end badly, be dark and not have any positive emotion in them at all. But the trauma Kyle went through lies at the heart of the story. The characters ark consists of his entering this state of trauma and coming out the other side – at least supposedly. We have to be able to see the trauma so we can rejoice with him and his family when he comes out on the other side. If we do not believe in the trauma in the first place, well, there is a part of the film that becomes completely pointless – the emotional journey has been aborted before it even began. Bradley Coopers extraordinary performance rescues the story to a certain point, but the other failing is, in my opinion, simply too great.

American Sniper is without doubt a good film. It is fascinating to watch, it is a story well worth being told. But it is, sadly, yet ANOTHER war film and something of a missed opportunity. By all means watch, but don’t expect it to change your world…