Spotlight

Spotlight's journalists-uncover-major-scandal-and-it's-all-based-on-a-true-story premise inevitably reminds of All The President's Men, although Spotlight's topic is the altogether murkier, skin-crawling and vein-popping anger-inducing uncovering of the widespread, decades-long issue of Catholic priests abusing children within their parishes - and the subsequent cover-up of this by the Church's most senior authorities, on many occasions simply allowing the priests to be moved to another area (and therefore giving complicit approval for the abuse to carry on until it looked as though the whistle would be blown again). No funny Watergate and Tricky Dicky Nixon style jokes to be had from this one, then.

However, despite the stomach-churning details of Spotlight being the sort of subject that might get me marching up and down in front of my local church waving protesting placards and the like on a  particularly energetic day, director Tom McCarthy and screenwriter Josh Singer wisely decide to sidestep overblown emotion, tears, and histrionics for a straightforward re-telling of how the Spotlight investigative team at the Boston Globe blew the lid off the scandal in the early 2000's as they pieced together various anecdotes, documented evidence, victim testimonies and more and eventually went on to claim the Pulitzer Prize for Public Service in 2003. The small, uncomfortable details of the abuse as revealed by a range of differing victims is enough to make us squirm and feel uncomfortable; what is equally shocking is the numbers and scale of the cover-up - hearing it re-iterated again here in stark fact drills home the sheer horror of the situation, the arrogance and audacity of those in positions of power who abused the trust of their communities, and the complicity of the wider community in turning a blind eye to such a repugnant and widespread scandal.

From a cinematic point-of-view, Spotlight does not try any spectacular tricks or effects in order to tell its rather grim story - and I thought that to do so would feel rather like a disservice to many of the surviving victims of the abuse. Instead it gets on with its business coolly and unfussily, drawing us in with both revulsion and fascination after a fairly slow opening 15 minutes and eventually gripping us as the team peel back further layers of corruption and appalling behaviour by those 'in the know' - in this sense, it's rather like a well-written broadsheet journalistic piece- not intended to win prizes for its style and showiness, but drawing us in with facts and an overwhelming urge to find out just what happens in the end - the lure of the headline (often gruesome, equally often compelling) pushing us on to read more.

The ensemble cast is uniformly excellent, and McCarthy smartly does not depict any of them as superheroes or guardians of journalistic morality and integrity, just a bunch of normal people trying to do their jobs and get the truth out there. I was particularly impressed with the work of Mark Ruffalo and Rachel McAdams, who brings her usual warmth, likeability and underrated acting skills to the role of Sacha Pfeiffer - it's a shame that her unshowy part didn't stand a chance in the Supporting Actress Oscar category this year against Alicia Vikander in a role for The Danish Girl that clearly should have been nominated as lead.

Well-crafted, straightforward, to-the-point and quietly powerful, Spotlight's beating of The Revenant to the Best Picture Oscar this year may have surprised many, but it is by no means an unworthy winner.

5 HOT PICS - MARK RUFFALO

Marky Mark is an actor who manages to pull off the uncanny trick of appearing both suave and somewhat dishevelled at the same time. And he's a fine actor too - one of the stars of the upcoming blog post on the Oscar-winning Spotlight, alongside many other top quality supporting roles. Why he's never graduated to become a mgeastar lead is a bit of a mystery to me, although a quick glance through his filmography shows he does have a bit of a taste for the independent minded and quirky. Which just adds to the appeal really for me.

Enjoy.

Frank Cottrell Boyce - Millions

I had to note the irony that the 2004 Carnegie winner was the one I was reading the day Britain announced it had voted to exit the European Union, when a large part of Millions' plot is based around the UK having become so closely integrated with its European neighbours that we have actually agreed to adapt the Euro as our currency (and even more astonishingly, no one seems to care or even comment about this rather drastic turnaround in the UK's attitude towards the common currency).

The millions of the title is also a tad misleading: our two protagonists, narrator Damian and his older brother Anthony, do discover a huge wodge of money (£229,370, to be precise) but it's not quite the amount the title suggests. Still, the money's all in the old British currency, and will become obsolete before the year is out, leaving our boys with a rather pressing dilemma; how exactly can you spend this much money in such a short amount of time - especially if you don't want to draw the attention of your father, concerned school teachers, or most crucially of all, the train robbers who'd nicked several mill in the first place, and are now hunting high and low for the missing bag of money.

Millions is intended to be a comical, light-hearted read first and foremost - so the threat of the robbers lurks more in the background rather than providing the main thrust of the plot. Even as they get closer to tracking down the boys towards the end, we never feel as though they are going to be in any real danger. More than anything, the book is a humorously drawn and occasionally poignant portrayal of two young lads struggling to come to terms with the loss of their mother not long ago.

Boyce has a sense of humour that has an irresistibly 'Scouse' feel to it - sardonic, sarcastic, but affectionate and able to poke fun at itself and this comes across effortlessly as the book skips merrily on from chapter to chapter - I particularly loved Damian's obsession with Saints and the constant facts and references about them he peppers the story with throughout, and the back-and-forth between Damian and Anthony has a real, well-observed and very amusing brotherly tang to it. The dry humour of Millions is not as easy to pull off as it looks - in fact humour in books is difficult to pull off, full stop - Boyce's success at this is what gives Millions its flavour and likely made it an awards fave throughout 2004.

Millions has a very visual, cinematic feel to it throughout: you can almost hear Damian's voice providing the narration in Chapter One over the opening credits, and many of the book's chapters play out like little scenes. It was no surprise to me to find out that Boyce had actually turned his script from Danny Boyle's 2004 film into the book, rather than vice versa. The main problem I had with the book, apart from the rather episodic feel this 'reverse adaptation' gives it at times, is the ending: too quick, too convenient and left me feeling a bit 'well, what happens next?' It left me feeling that the book was slight and rushed (maybe Boyce wanted it finished and in the shops before the film was released, I don't know), but it could have done with a slower release of the tension built up as the robbers got closer to tracking down the missing money - maybe a switch from humour to a more suspenseful conclusion would have worked better too, or it may have been a step too far for Boyce to be able to change tack at that point and work it into the plot convincingly.

Millions is a nice little story and wittier for any reader of any age than a book for this age range could really be intended to be, but that sense of disappointment as I closed the book lingers. Fun, but ultimately forgetful in the long run.

5 HOT PICS - TOM HARDY

OK, I'll admit to it: I just didn't "get it" when Mr. Hardy made his first big impression on the Hollywood "scene" with Inception back in 2010, and half the planet's underwear dropped to the floor with lust/admiration. However, I somehow finally realised that he was rather hot earlier this year. Maybe it's the fact he's one of the few guys who can pull off the big bushy beard look while still looking handsome. Maybe it's the twinkle in his eye. Or maybe it's just the fact that if you stick around long enough and keep taking off all/most of your clothes, I'll finally sit up and give credit where it's due. Hurrah!

Enjoy. 

 

Mal Peet - Tamar

 

Tamar veers back and forth between two different timelines: 1945, as hunger and fear continue to grip the Netherlands as the Second World War draws to a close; and 1995, as Tamar, a 16-year-old girl, tries to unravel a box of mysterious clues left to her by her recently deceased grandfather.

Tamar has been named after the code name given to her grandfather during the war, not the actual river itself that runs between Devon and Cornwall - although the box of clues sends her on a journey of discovery down said river as she tries to figure out the meaning of the rather obscure hints left to her and also develops romantic feelings for her distant cousin who accompanies her on the way. Meanwhile, Tamar and another secret operative, Dart, are parachuted into Holland as part of the resistance and are faced with a whole heap of problems - from organising and maintaining the peace amongst the differing resistance groups throughout the country, to communicating in secret back to London, rationing food during a desperate winter shortage, and dealing with a group of local resistance fighters who demand more overt action in order to overthrow the Nazi regime (bringing about some rather nasty troubles as a consequence of this). To further complicate matters, Dart has fallen for Marijke, a local woman who is already in love with Tamar.

A lot of Tamar's narrative strength lies in its Sixth-Sense-esque element of surprise - rather like that film, if you know the twist, it spoils a lot of the fun for you. Unfortunately, I'd figured it out less than halfway through. Whether this was a result of Peet providing too many obvious signposts throughout both timelines, or some lucky guessing/hunches on my part, I'm not sure.

What I am sure about, however, is how difficult it has been to find anything much to say about what is at a glance a well-written and multi-layered novel. One part of the problem for me appears to be the 1945 sections. Peet spends too long on these and not enough on the 1995 story - resulting in the 1995 chapters always feeling as though they are interrupting the flow of what Peet is really wanting to tell us for the sake of maintaining the dual narrative. Also, I found the 3 main characters from 1945 a little flatly drawn. Marijke didn't seem to have enough personality and general life to her in order for both men to fall for her so hard; meanwhile Peet does a good job of taking us inside both Dart and Tamar's heads, but never quite succeeded in making me truly care about them as people.

The two narrative structure does, at times, feel rather like two different books glued together - although there are common themes and symbols and recurring characters, the effect for me felt rather like trying to squeeze together two bits of a jigsaw that don't quite fit right. The chief issue is that 1945 reads more like work for an adult audience than for young adults; the 1995 section the exact opposite. Maybe it's the would-be writer in me casting too critical an eye over the structure, but I couldn't help but thinking how different edits and changes to the two timelines would have resulted in a rather different story, and how I would have changed this to better suit my own tastes.

Mal Peet has done a reasonable job with this book. It's interestingly structured, has some powerful imagery, tough character choices and shows the brutal implications that taking action during the war could result in, and he can clearly come up with some excellent metaphors and narrative descriptions that contributed to my enjoyment of the story. I also liked the nicely ambiguous questions he raised at the end about the character of Tamar’s grandfather and his actions. But considering the barrage of effusive praise that this novel received (see its inner jacket for commendations from such luminaries as multi-Carnegie winner Jan Mark), I was rather left feeling a little disappointed. Tamar is a nice read, but although everything about its plotlines suggest it packs a heck of an emotional punch, for me it just missed the mark. An average novel rather than a great one, but many would disagree.