Get us in your inbox

Daniel J Lewis

Daniel J Lewis

Listings and reviews (3)

Fire Will Come

Fire Will Come

4 out of 5 stars

You might call this Spanish drama an acquired taste. It moves with all the snap of a glacier and the plot – in which a man, Amador (Amador Arias), returns to his hometown on which he once launched an arson attack – is hardly complex. Somehow, though, director Oliver Laxe transforms all these ingredients into a sensory feast. The effect is spellbinding. Captured on grainy 16mm, Amador’s simple daily tasks as he looks after his elderly mother, unfold with almost indulgent languidness. As does the rural Galician setting, which offers generous eyefuls of rolling mists and lush, dripping woodlands. What plot there is feeds into bigger unanswered, unanswerable questions about connection and belonging. Amador and his mother chat about the local eucalyptus, a foreign tree which strangles other plants’ roots. ‘If they hurt others, it’s because they hurt, too,’ she suggests. Does this apply to her ex-arsonist son? Or the villagers who gossip about him? With a documentarian’s instincts, Laxe offers no easy answers. Like Amador, he opts for observation over intervention. The result in this eventually fiery film is refreshing. As with the spoiler of its title, ‘Fire Will Come’ is a little slice of life that proves that sometimes less really is more. Opens in US virtual cinemas Oct 30.

Permission

Permission

3 out of 5 stars

Bluntly presented and serious-minded, this Iranian drama follows the plight of Afrooz (Baran Kosari), captain of Iran’s women’s futsal team, who finds she’s been banned from leaving the country by her estranged husband Yaser (Amir Jadidi) – believe it or not, his legal right as a married man in Iran. With it, director Soheil Beiraghi unapologetically confronts a society which places women’s rights in the hands of men. With Kosari a steely presence at its heart, ‘Permission’ asks us share in Afrooz’s growing anger and claustrophobia as she finds herself boxed in, metaphorically and literally (a lot of the film takes place in cars), wherever she turns. Afrooz’s predicament wins little sympathy from her coach, who is more concerned that the team’s hijabs don’t slip on court, so she turns to a self-promoting activist lawyer who initially suggests seduction and a social-media campaign ahead of legal action. Her husband’s preferred option is clear. The presenter of a queasily titled TV programme ‘Good Old Days’, he assumes his unctuous brand of charm can put their year-long estrangement to bed in a very literal sense. The film’s cool, zinc-y tones are the perfect match for Yaser’s skin-crawling slickness, as well as an impersonal legal system which first traps Afrooz, then ties her in knots. The (unseen) judge, meanwhile, is merely confused by the whole scenario, particularly by Yaser who neither wants to keep his wife nor let her go. ‘Permission’ isn’t an endearing experience – yo

The Amazing Johnathan Documentary

The Amazing Johnathan Documentary

2 out of 5 stars

For those with an appetite for smoke and mirrors, and a soft spot for pranksters, this doc should be a winner. The ingredients are there: a Las Vegas magician on a comeback tour; a debut filmmaker who has an unhealthy obsession with his looming death; and the real-life revelation that the magician has given the go-ahead to another, parallel documentary. Sadly, it falls flat. Director Benjamin Berman amps up the inconvenience caused by that second film crew to ridiculous extremes, leaving all interest in the ailing John Szeles (the titular Amazing Johnathan) behind. Maybe, we’re made to think, it’s one long practical joke, the kind Szeles made his name with – like pretending to hack through his forearm with a butcher’s knife. Or, you suspect, as Szeles continues to snub him, Berman is just a glutton for punishment. Either way, patience wears thin. Gleaning little from its talking-head interviews and even less from the performer himself, ‘The Amazing Johnathan Documentary’ feels baggy. This is most obvious during a long sequence revolving around whether or not Berman can legally take a hit of meth, Szeles’s drug of choice, on screen. The filmmaker pulls off one amazing trick of his own near the end, but the payoff is hardly the bonanza it needs to be. And the question he’s asked by a producer halfway through – ‘What interested you in a dying magician?’ – is left oddly unanswered.