Tag Archives: Himesh Patel

Kids Are Great, Aren’t They?

The Assessment

by Hope Madden

Director Fleur Fortune’s feature debut delivers an effective gut punch of a sleight of hand. What feels for quite a while like a near-spoof on our collective unpreparedness for parenting morphs slowly into something entirely else. Something more sinister, more human, and alarmingly likely.

In a post-dystopian future where scientists have created an ageless but sterile dome world, it’s necessary to apply and be assessed for parenthood. Because, since no one dies anymore, and it was the strain on resources that caused the dystopia in the first place, children are not grown outside the uterus for just anybody.

But Mia (Elizabeth Olsen) and Aaryan (Himesh Patel) are ready, they’re sure of it. They just have to convince their assessor, Virginia (Alicia Vikander).

Fortune’s career up to now has involved a lot of music videos and perfume advertisements, work that’s sharpened her instincts for image. The shot making in The Assessment is often stunning, but it also informs the story. There are no voiceovers or news flashes to catch you up on the dystopia, who caused what, why we are where we are. But you don’t lose track of it because of how organically Fortune fits this story in this environment with these characters.

Everything serves a purpose—each costume, dinner guest, glance and line of dialog—but none of it feels forced or false. The delicate balance created in the early going, a balance the assessor destroys with manipulated childlike chaos, is thanks to meticulous direction and performances.

The three leads shine, none of them blameless and yet all forgivable. Because the chaos wrought in the film becomes more and more dire as the honest-to-god strain of this kind of world slowly, authentically reveals itself.

The Assessment’s resolution unfortunately feels less sincere, landing far more obviously than the preceding scenes. There’s a predetermined tidiness that flies in the face of the disarming chaos that came before.

It’s a small criticism of an insightful, frightening look at where our future may take us.

Ghost Writer

Yesterday

by George Wolf

Hey, baby boomers (yes, my hand is up), thanks for still buying CDs!

Now please enjoy the latest installment in your Musical Movie Memories Tour, Yesterday.

We’ve already jammed to Queen and Elton, Bruce is set for August, so how about remembering how much we love the Fab Four by envisioning a world where they never existed?

It’s a conceit so instantly charming director Danny Boyle (127 Hours, Slumdog Millionaire) passed on the project, thinking it had already been done. He was convinced otherwise and jumped on board, bringing the script from Richard Curtis (Notting Hill, Four Weddings and a Funeral, Love Actually) to life with a breezy, unabashed fandom.

Jack Malik (Himesh Patel, easy to root for) is a struggling musician in Suffolk who’s ready to give up on the dream. His longtime friend and manager Ellie (Lily James) protests, but Jack rides his bicycle off into the English night unsure of his future.

Fate intervenes with a brief worldwide blackout, which brings an accident, a hospital stay, and Jack waking up in a world without his two front teeth.

Or the Beatles.

That second one is pretty advantageous for Jack’s career, though the film is at its most likable early on, when Jack is trying to remember lyrics, getting nowhere on Google and chastising anyone who doesn’t instantly realize how life-changing “his” new songs are.

Of course, his protests only resonate because we’re still in the old world with him. It’s a credit to the simple genius of this premise that Yesterday can tell without showing and still pull us in. And surprise, it’s also a wonderfully organic way to strip down these songs we’ve heard for decades and remind us how truly great they are.

Jack’s star rises with a move to L.A, getting tutelage from Ed Sheehan (nicely self-deprecating as himself) and an apologetically shameless record label rep (perfectly slimy Kate McKinnon). It’s in America where Yesterday starts to drag a bit, wanting from the absence of spunky James and will-they-or-won’t-they rom that balances this com.

How that turns out, you can probably guess.

As for the musical fantasy, credit Curtis and Boyle for avoiding the easy cop out. Buy in and you’ll be rewarded with an entertaining take on life choices that’s fun to sing along with, occasionally slight but often downright fab.