Cinderella

Whatever you may think of this film, I can state without fear of controversy
that it contains a fucktonne of dresses.

Following on from Maleficent, the next Disney classic to get an in-house live-action remake (I think the first was The Jungle Book, some years back) is Cinderella, starring Lily James off of Downton and Cate Blanchett, with Helena Bonham Carter as the fairy godmother, and directed by Kenneth Branagh.

The film is sumptuous. The sets and costumes are excellent and the effects for the Godmother's magic are suitably sparkly. James plays Ella just the right side of tooth-grindingly winsome, the Prince (herein named Kit) is decent enough, and the support is of a very high standard. Derek Jacobi as the King is both conservative and sympathetic, and Stellan Skarsgard and Nonso Anozie as the bad and good courtiers are great fun. While essentially played straight - which, as I think I may have said before is the new radical interpretation - the film inserts a scene in which Ella and Kit meet incognito to establish a spark, and reverses some expectations by having the King bless Kit's intention to marry the mystery woman on his deathbed rather than frocing a promise to do what is 'good for the Kingdom'.

The sisters really are just Blanchett's
backing group.

Cate Blanchett is of course a fabulous wicked stepmother, although it is a pity that the sisters weren't a bit more nuanced (I overheard a ten year old girl in the audience telling her father that the sisters aren't always portrayed as entirely wicked, so it's not as if the target audience couldn't deal.) Blanchett is also so very venomous that a third act push to give her a sympathetic backstory falls flat.

What the film does very well is take out some of the more cringeworthy aspects of the source, such that Ella isn't set on either attending a ball for its own sake, or because of some misty dream of meeting a prince. Instead, she is hoping to catch up with 'Kit the apprentice', whom she met by chance in the forest. It is only when everyone watches them dance that she realises who she is. It makes the character far more sympathetic, to me at least, that she is interested in a person and not a title (and this is also pitched as the thing that wins the King over.)

My main complaint is that, like Maleficent, they left out the songs, despite making a film that would be perfect for a song or two.

As an aside, if you want to introduce your kids to the subject of death, this is the film for you, knocking off both of Ella's parents and the King during its runtime.

Elsa once more displays her power over ice, snow, and all
kinds of fabric.

Speaking of children, Arya didn't really get on with the film, mostly because it had real people in it, I think. She did, however, love Frozen Fever. Short and sweet, Frozen Fever is a delightful snippet, but encapsulates a lot of my concerns regarding the idea of a Frozen II. It works because it's a short story about the characters, rather than a continuation of the main narrative which had effectively finished. I choose to be cautiously optimistic about the sequel, but the emphasis is on the caution.

Only Lovers Left Alive

Adam and Eve are quintessential 60s survivors; a musician and a devourer of literature still mired in a psychadelic haze. Yet they are not what they seem, for they are centuries older, two of a dwindling population of vampires battling to balance their need for blood with the lethal pollution of their food supply by humanity's folly. Jim Jarmusch's Only Lovers Left Alive follows the two over the course of about a week as their carefully ordered lives are disrupted by Eve's anarchic sister, threatening their very existence.

In many ways, Only Lovers Left Alive is a movie about drugs and music which happens to have vampires in it. Faced with a human population full of chemicals and environmental toxins, Adam (Tom Hiddleston) and Eve (Tilda Swinton) feed only on 'the good stuff'; carefully sourced, decanted blood free from contamination which they acquire from their 'dealers', a Detroit doctor for Adam and 16th century poet Christopher Marlowe* (John Hurt) for Eve. They are disdainful of the destructive natures of the 'zombies' - and it is telling that only humans are ever referred to by a monstrous title - and Adam in particular is almost consumed by the tragic destruction of the scientists and musicians he has sponsored over the centuries.

As an essentially character driven piece, the film rides on the performances of Hiddleston and Swinton, who are both excellent. Hurt, Mia Wachowski as Eve's sister Ava and Anton Yelchin as Adam's human fixer Ian are also superb, and in the film's enclosed world, wrapped in Velvet Underground-esque jangling guitars and long, loving montages, that is enough.

If I had a quibble with the film it would be that the blood = drugs theme is too direct, the feeding scenes too reminiscent of Trainspotting, but it would be a minor quibble.

* There's a reference to his waistcoat which feels almost like a nod to Shakespeare in Love, but that seems odd from a hardcore indie like Jarmusch.