Monday, 30 March 2026

BITE-SIZED: Margin Call (JC Chandor, 2011)

Realising that the market is about to collapse, an investment bank decides to engage in a fire sale that might save the company, but destroy everyone who works for it.



On its face, Margin Call did not seem like a movie I would enjoy. For one, my understanding of the financial sector is poor, and the subject did not sound that interesting to me.


What a turnaround. 


It has now become a movie that has become a favourite.  


Eminently rewatchable, I have watched this movie a number of times. Every time a scene pops up on Youtube I find myself watching it and then going back to watch the film from the beginning.


A movie about people in the eye of the storm, Margin Call is a fantastic thriller. Considering most of the action is limited to a few floors of the company's building, this is a real achievement.


Taking place before the great recession starts, the film shows people trapped in the mindset of upward mobility.


There are no people with principles - they are still after the money. Characters are either cold-hearted predators or willing enablers, aware of what they are doing to the economy, to ordinary people, but they are too plugged into the system to do anything about it.


With a deadline to get rid of their toxic assets - and the knowledge that the sale of these assets will wreck their sector and destroy their careers.the film begins to build the sense of our 'heroes' being under siege.


This sense of mounting conflict is reflected explicitly in the way the characters view their task - the monologue that rouses the staff is phrased in militaristic, almost patriotic terms.


The film does not go for the pat, easy route of having the company fail - they manage to complete the fire sale, and the story ends with CEO Tuld (Jeremy Irons) looking ahead to the future. He already has historicised this crisis as one of many - as an inevitability that can still be turned into an opportunity.


It is a wonderfully hideous finale - a case of un-learning so timeless it feels even more relevant than it did in 2011.


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Nosferatu (FW Murnau, 1922)

Real estate agent Thomas Hutter (Gustav von Wangenheim) has journeyed to the castle of the reclusive Count Orlok (Max Schreck) to deliver a deed to a property the count is interested in purchasing.


This house happens to be across the street from Hutter’s own residence, where his wife Ellen (Greta Schröder) waits for his return.


A harmless coincidence, of course…



"The Master is near!"


Nosferatu has cast a long shadow over pop culture - from the 1979 and 2024 remakes, through Salem’s Lot, and What We Do In The Shadows.


I had not watched it until recently, but I was aware of the film’s iconography, especially Max Shreck’s appearance.


A couple of years ago I watched Shadow of the Vampire, which starred Willem Dafoe as Shreck, albeit a version of the character who is a real vampire. I am keen to re-watch that film, with the context of seeing the film it is based on.


After Voyage of the Demeter, I was craving some more Dracula, so I decided to go back and review a couple of the most well-known iterations. While I watched this one first, it is the final review of the miniseries I have released.


Watching the ‘official’ Dracula adaptations which followed only made me appreciate it more. 


I like the simplicity of the narrative - Orlok is more of an overt mastermind, actively pushing the story forward (with even Hutter’s employer in cahoots to facilitate his scheme). His motive is also more pure: pure bloodlust. 


In this version, Hutter and his wife are married and established. This creates more of a sense of Orlok as a force of chaos, destroying a traditional sense of order. He is explicitly linked with disease (the signs of his coming evoke the imagery of the Black Death).


It is a common misconception that silent film was exclusively black and white. Nosferatu makes use of colour tinting to connote shifts in the tone of scenes (aqua blue in the scenes set at sea).


Orlok - hunched, talons against chest, scuttling out of a darkened doorway - draws attention in every scene. 


Max Shreck’s performance is so idiosyncratic and deliberate, it renders his dynamic with von Wangenheim’s brash, guileless Hutter darkly comedic.


Hutter is dangerously cavalier. Despite awareness of various dangers, he continues on his journey. When Hunter discovers a bite, he grins with surprise - he thinks they are caused by mosquito bites.


It is hard not to turn this review into a series of exclamations about its cinematic techniques. Most would be considered rudimentary now (Orlok's spectral appearance perched on his coffins via superimposition) but they are effective. See also the second attack on Hutter, in which Orlok appears as a silhouette on the wall.


Intercut with Ellen's vision, this sequence uses mise-en-scene to show a link/awareness between Orlok and and his future victim.


Orlok's first appearance - sped-up footage of carriage - is a testament to the power of simple effects to achieve a sense of the uncanny.


What supports these various effects is the desolation of the compositions - Ellen on the beach, the sailors dispatching the brethren, the shots of Orlok approaching the ruin of his new home on an un-piloted boat.


The film conveys a sense of the apocalyptic - in this case, the cataclysm is one of plague and pestilence. 


The crew of the schooner Empusa (this film’s stand-in for the Demeter) empty one of Orlok’s coffin, unleashing rats on the ship. These rats subsequently act as Orlok’s advance guard when he finally lands in his new home.


In a neat touch, the ship is not wrecked in this version - Orlok pilots it to port, carries his coffin off and leaves his rats to fill the town. 


The film ends with a traditional example of suspense, inter-cutting between Count Orlok's ship and Hutter on his horse and Knock at the asylum.


Easily more dynamic than the Universal film of the following decade, Nosferatu retains its power to unnerve and inspire.


Related


Dracula (1931 Anglo version)


Dracula (1931 Spanish version) 


Horror of Dracula (1958)


Count Dracula (1977)


Dracula (1979)


Bram Stoker's Dracula


The Last Voyage of the Demeter 


Abigail


Nosferatu (2024)


If you are new to this blog, I also co-host a podcast on James Bond, The James Bond Cocktail Hour

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The Hunt For Red October (John McTiernan, 1990)

The Soviet Union's most powerful submarine, the Red October, is on its way across the Atlantic.


As the western alliance scrambles to work out what its mission is, a young CIA analyst, Jack Ryan (Alec Baldwin), comes to a sudden, seemingly unbelievable realisation:


The submarine's captain, Ramius (Sean Connery), is not spearheading an attack. He's making an escape...



This is a great movie of a kind that will never be made again - on a couple of different levels. Firstly, it is an example of a genre (the techno-thriller) that have migrated from cinema screens. The movie is also a time capsule, not just for a specific aesthetic or in terms of production values, but of a point in time.


Made between the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the USSR in 1991, The Hunt For Red October is a movie about smart people trying to avoid conflict that cannot help but feel completely idealistic. Technically, the movie takes place in 1984, which makes the portrayal of the Americans' actions feel somewhat naive.


Acknowledging that, that focus on brains over guns is what makes The Hunt for Red October so great. The Jack Ryan movies were big business back in the early nineties, and surprisingly consistent considering the personal changes that took place behind the scenes, specifically the change of leading man. In retrospect they feel like the ultimate reaction to the steroidal action movies of the 80s.


The first film made from the best-selling novels of Tom Clancy, Red October was directed by John McTiernan, on the heels of his success with Predator and Die Hard. The Director of Photography was Jan De Bont, who also shot Die Hard and later became a director with 1994’s Speed.


The connection with Die Hard is important, since Die Hard is another movie where the machismo is offset by brains.


Making 200 million on a 30 million dollar budget, Red October is a great example of the middle tier of Hollywood product, a popcorn movie made for adults.


Part of the success of the movie is casting - the studio originally wanted Kevin Costner but he was doing Dances with Wolves, so the role went to Alec Baldwin. 


Baldwin's relative youth works well with the older cast, but he has the authority to sell Ryan as a super-intelligent analyst who can stand toe-to-toe with Connery


The fine actor Klaus Maria Brandeuar was originally cast as Ramius, but he ended up leaving after a few weeks. While a fine actor in his own right, it is impossible to see anyone in this role other than Connery.


John McTiernan described the relationship between Ryan and Ramius as similar to that between Long John Silver and young Jim Hawkins in Treasure Island. While it is unclear if the actor was aware of this influence, he does evoke a similar mixture of attraction and danger. 

Connery brings a guile and deadpan humour to the veteran soldier. There are moments where it seems like Ramius seems geniunely amused that his gambit is coming off.

The first of the Jack Ryan franchise, The Hunt For Red October is both a classic sub movie and a reaction to the bombast of the typical action fare of the eighties.

It is also fitting that the movie ends up as a passing of the torch, from an icon of an earlier, Cold War-based form of espionage-based escapism, to a new, younger generation of the genre.


Preceding the Jason Bourne films as a reaction to typical action and spy fare, the Jack Ryan films put more focus on process, technology and brains. While the later films have their strengths, Red October represents the best example of the series, turning into a hi-tech chess match without losing sight of its lead characters who spend most of the movie miles away from each other. 


This movie lays out exposition so well - it cuts efficiently between Ramius and Jack Ryan without ever losing a sense of moment.


McTiernan’s direction is key - his use of extended takes and spatial relations within shots to establish geography and power relations conveys so much information without a word being spoken. I love the moment when TIm Curry is talking in the mess and the camera moves behind him to show Connery and Sam Neil looking at each other - we immediately understand his character, setting up his gullibility.


While not technically an action movie, Red October has its sense of momentum: Ryan is constantly on the move, going from delivering a report to the guts of a nuclear submarine by the end of the movie.


Everything has a sense of scale and danger: even Ryan’s attempt to board the Dallas, which could have just been treated as a spectacular entrance, is an exercise in tension and the sheer effort it takes to carry this dangerous manoeuvre off (the focus on the officer who is trying to catch him).


The escalation of stakes in this movie is fantastic - there is no underlying sense of sabre-rattling. Everyone is on edge about what could happen.


What is great about the third act is how it is premised on de-escalation:

The Americans cannot let on that they know about Ramius’s defection AND they cannot engage the Russian hunter-killer sub or risk starting a war.

A great movie.


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OUT NOW: Project Hail Mary (Phil Lord and Christopher Miller)

Sent on a one-way mission to save the sun, Ryland Grace (Ryan Gosling) discovers his crew-mates have died.

Alone on a ship he can barely understand, Ryland's mission is further complicated when a strange craft appears alongside his...


It has been 12 years since Phil Lord and Chris Miller's last directorial effort,
22 Jump Street. In between, they became Sony's animation braintrust, helping to shepheard the Spiderverse movies to the screen.

They were also the directors of 2018’s Solo - until they were kicked to the curb partway through filming.

After watching Project Hail Mary, some people at Disney must be cursing into their Star Wars pillow. 

There is a sense of scale here, and a tactility to the world-building that feels distinct from their previous work - but one can glimpse the same meticulousness and attention to detail.

The film is a bit too long - and there is a narrative framing device that wears out its welcome.

Project Hail Mary is solid four-quadrant filmmaking.

In the lead, Ryan Gosling is, unsurprisingly, magnetic. He brings that same unique mixture of whimsy and earnestness that defines his screen persona. Grace is a smarter sibling to his character in The Nice Guys - down and out, but driven by an inherent curiosity and bloodymindedness to ultimately do the right thing.

Gosling has never opened a movie on his own. Hopefully this film will solidify his A-lister status.

And now to his co-star.

Rocky, voiced by James Ortiz, and brought to life by a combination of puppetry and visual effects, is a marvel.

A combination of a spider and a collection of boulders, this eyeless alien is a fantastically original creation. Using a version of sonar, this character relies on sound to navigate the world.

This reliance on physical touch leads to Grace having to figure out a new form of communication, via handmade models and figurines. 

The movie, intentionally or not, turns into a metaphor for problem-solving, creativity, and handmade craft. 

The second act is so strong, as Grace and Rocky bond, and Grace learns to regain his sense of hope, that the third act cannot help but feel like a letdown.

The film presents our hero with a series of increasingly dire choices - any of whom could have served as endings to his journey and the movie. But the film keeps going, ending on a moment that goes beyond having your cake.

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