Romería
(114 mins, 15) Directed by Carla Simón; starring Llúcia Garcia, Mitch Martín, Tristán Ulloa
This is not the first time that Catalan director Carla Simón has drawn upon her own life for inspiration. Her stunning debut, Summer 1993, drew on her early childhood experiences of being sent to live with relatives in rural Spain after her mother’s death from Aids. Her second feature, Alcarràs, explored the challenges facing the fruit farming communities in which she grew up. But her third film, Romería, is both the most ambitious to date and also the most emotionally exposed. I loved it.
It follows 18-year-old Marina (a quietly soulful Llúcia Garcia) as she connects with the Galician family of the father she never knew (like Simón’s mother, he was a heroin addict who died of Aids). Marina is a fictionalised version of a younger Simón – she carries a camcorder and plans to study film. Her guide to the free but doomed life her parents shared comes from her mother’s diary, made up of words that Simón borrowed from her own mother’s letters to loved ones.
Using kinetic, responsive camerawork, the cinematographer Hélène Louvart captures the fiery dynamics of this extended family. Meanwhile, Simón weaves more unexpected devices into the naturalistic drama: a touch of animation, a strikingly choreographed symbolic dance of death, a fantasy flashback.
The film asks whether family is defined by shared blood or shared truths. The latter are in short supply in Marina’s affluent paternal family. Gauche, reserved Marina is out of tune with her relatives, a distance that Simón deftly demonstrates by using different languages (Marina speaks Catalan, while her father’s family juggle Spanish, French and Galician dialect). But Marina finds a spiritual kinship with her cousin Nuno (Mitch Martín), and with the stormy Atlantic coast where her parents were briefly happy.
Kokuho
(175 mins, 15) Directed by Lee Sang-il; starring Ryô Yoshizawa, Ryûsei Yokohama, Takahiro Miura
A nearly three-hour Japanese melodrama set in the closed world of kabuki theatre: you wouldn’t guess that Lee Sang-il’s Kokuho would break box office records. But the lavish picture is now Japan’s highest grossing live-action film of all time.
There’s undoubtedly a cultural specificity to the appeal of kabuki and the highly mannered fingernails-on-a-blackboard vocal delivery. As such, it’s unlikely to generate the same degree of audience enthusiasm in the UK.
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And yet even those who are not attuned to the nuances of the art form can hardly fail to be moved by this film’s sumptuous period production design, its stunning costumes and the depiction of the savagery and suffering inherent in creative excellence. The film follows the close bond and fractious rivalry between Shunsuke (Ryûsei Yokohama), the son of legendary kabuki actor Hanjiro (Ken Watanabe), and Kikuo (Ryô Yoshizawa), the orphaned son of a Yakuza gangster who is adopted and trained by Hanjiro.
Our Land
(91 mins, 12A) Directed by Orban Wallace
The public has legal access to just 8% of the English countryside. The rest of it is privately owned, mostly fenced off and barricaded against the hordes for the enjoyment of the elite few, who, through quirks of birth, happened to inherit large chunks of our land. Put like that, it’s a stark statistic.
This stirring documentary by Orban Wallace is a rallying cry for the right to roam movement. The film takes in a wide spectrum of opinions on the subject but comes down firmly on the side of the campaigners lobbying for a change in the rules governing public access rights to the countryside.
The protesters embark on peaceful mass trespass events to highlight the cause. There are occasional outbreaks of Morris dancing and pagan revelry, but these are joyful, inclusive events, far removed from the fire-starting, litter-chucking rampage that some of the landowners fear. Wallace’s film advocates for dialogue between the two sides, and is itself a key part of an ongoing conversation.
Our Land Directed by Orban Wallace
Iron Maiden: Burning Ambition
(106 mins, TBC) Directed by Malcolm Venville; featuring Iron Maiden
The test of a great rock documentary is that it should deliver equal rewards both for fans and for audiences unfamiliar, or perhaps even resistant, to the act in question. Metallica: Some Kind of Monster by Joe Berliner and Bruce Sinofsky was a near-perfect example: a revealing, tongue-in-cheek film about rock stardom that examined the petty issues of co-creator dynamics as well as metal posturing and rocket-powered guitar riffs.
But Iron Maiden: Burning Ambition is a movie for the fans alone. A ploddingly unremarkable documentary, it leans heavily on platitudes and soundbites, voiceover quotes from band members and carefully curated archive footage. Aficionados will find plenty to enjoy but very little to surprise them, while the Maiden-indifferent are unlikely to be won over.
Mortal Combat II
(116 mins, TBC) Directed by Simon McQuoid; starring Karl Urban, Ludi Lin, Jessica McNamee
The sequel to the rebooted video game movie franchise delivers souped-up martial arts, circular saw hats, eye lasers, death screams and Escher-nightmare set design. So, pretty much business as usual then.
The injection of fresh blood (other than the buckets of the stuff spurting out of the supporting characters) is Karl Urban, playing faded B-movie action star Johnny Cage. Cage is approached during a fan event and told that his services are required to help save Earth. And if that sounds suspiciously like the set-up to Galaxy Quest, that’s because it is – minus the humour and satisfyingly developed characters.