Monday 18 March 2013

The Croods 3D



For rebellious teenager Eep (Emma Stone) caveman life is a bit of a drag.  It’s all hunting, gathering and sticking to the boring rules laid down by her over-protective father Grug (Nicolas Cage) whose mantra of “Fear keeps us alive.  Never not be afraid” has so far kept alive the Crood family; mom Ugga (Catherine Keener), brawny, meat head brother Thunk (Clark Duke), ancient crone Gran (Cloris Leachman) and feral baby sister Sandy, while all of their neighbours have succumbed to disease, starvation and predators.  Change is bad and curiosity kills believes Grug but, like any teenager, all Eep wants is her own space and not to stay cooped up in the family cave all the time.  She wants the freedom the Sun represents to her, climbing the cliff wall of their valley to feel its dying embers as it sets.

Life changes for Eep when she meets and is smitten by the mysterious Guy (Ryan Reynolds), a nomad who’s harnessed the secret of fire and whose only friend and companion is the pet sloth he wears as a belt, named appropriately enough, Belt who has a flair for the dramatic.  “Pets are animals who don’t eat you,” explains Guy.  Believing the apocalyptic End Of The World is coming, Guy and Belt are just passing through on their way to higher ground where Guy believes he’ll be safe. 

When an earthquake (caused by the splitting of the continents) destroys the family cave, Grug and the Croods must conquer their fear of the outside world and follow Eep and Guy on the adventure of a lifetime, braving the jungle beyond their desert valley and the strange creatures who live there, as they search for a new home.

The prehistoric adventures of a modern Stone Age family, there’s very little that’s original or surprising about The Croods but there doesn’t have to be.  It’s undemanding, slapstick fun for the whole family with a few good anachronistic gags thrown in for good measure (the invention of shoes and the snapshot particular highlights) where the main conflict isn’t with the animals trying to eat them or the ground tearing itself apart beneath their feet but the familiar battle between father and teenage daughter.

The animation is visually stunning and the 3D pleasingly immersive as the sweetly rendered Neanderthal Croods explore a lush Avatar-like jungle full of fantastical Maurice Sendak-esque hybrid critters among them giant land-dwelling whales, a flock of piranha-like birds and possibly prehistory’s cutest predator a giant, parrot-hued, sabre tooth kitten.  With her wide face, squat body and muscular arms and thighs, the Neanderthal Eep is a robust, relatable, kick-ass heroine who’s far more physical and able than the more thoughtful Guy and it’s refreshing that The Croods presents the chunky gal to its young audience, rather than the usual Disney princess-type, as a positive female role model.

While Ryan Reynolds is bland as the dreamy Guy and Catherine Keener and Cloris Leachman are just stereotypical caring mom and feisty granny respectively, young kids will love Clark Duke’s oafish Thunk and the ferocious baby Sandy but it’s the sparring Emma Stone and Nicolas Cage who are the heart of the film, Emma Stone’s husky tones animating the sweet but headstrong Eep while Nicolas Cage gives his most restrained, funny and touching performance in years as the caveman dad out of step with changing times.

While it plays pretty safe, there’s nothing too scary here for the kids, and it may not be as evolved as its Pixar competitors, The Croods is a smart, wildly entertaining kids’ film that at the very least Wrecks Ralph.

David Watson


Directed by:
Written by:
Produced by:
Starring:
Genres:
Adventure, Animation, Comedy, Family
Language:
English
Runtime:
1 hour 39 minutes
Certificate:
U
UK Release Date:
Friday 22nd March 2013
Rating:
4/5

"...definitely not a chance to have a guilty wee perv over the perky blonde from Don’t Trust The B**** In Apartment 23 getting nekkid and being sexually humiliated and abused" - Compliance


Compliance

The kind of controversy-courting flick that trumpets its torn-from-the-headlines “Based on a true story” credentials, inspiring walk-outs at film festivals while normally being met with a disinterested “Meh…” by audiences, Compliance is the latest film to wheel out those creaky old classics the Milgram Experiment and the Stanford Prison Experiment to illustrate the banality of evil and the lengths we’ll go to in order to obey an authority figure who gives us permission to act against our own personal conscience.  And it’s definitely not a chance to have a guilty wee perv over the perky blonde from Don’t Trust The B**** In Apartment 23 getting nekkid and being sexually humiliated and abused.  No siree Bob, nothing could be further from our minds!

Based on not one but over 70 true stories across the continental United States, which kinda makes you wonder just how gullible (or, more disturbingly, how eager) our colonial cousins are, Compliance sees harried, highly-strung fast-food restaurant manager Sandra (Ann Dowd) receive a phone call from an ‘Officer’ Daniels (Pat Healy) who claims that one of Sandra’s employees, the pretty, young checkout girl Becky (the aforementioned perky blonde Dreama Walker from Don’t Trust The B**** In Apartment 23) is guilty of theft and that Sandra should detain and strip search the girl until he can get there to arrest her. 

Held prisoner in the restaurant storage room Sandra, the restaurant’s other employees and Sandra’s squiffy boyfriend act as proxies for the prank caller as the frightened, naïve, compliant Becky is subjected to an escalating series of dehumanising humiliations on his orders, eventually culminating in a sexual assault.

Starkly shot and boasting good performances from all the principals, writer/director Zobel stretches a pretty thin scenario until our suspension of disbelief snaps.  It’s not that the implications of what he’s showing us aren’t chilling and squirm-inducingly uncomfortable it’s just that the film has little to say beyond “YOU’RE ALL JUST SHEEPLE!  EVERY ONE OF YOU WOULD DO THIS GIVEN HALF A CHANCE!”  No, we wouldn’t.  It takes a special kind of gullibility.  Possibly an American gullibility.  But even then, most people would find it a mite suspicious, certainly unorthodox, if a policeman told them to search a suspected thief by putting their wee-wee in her mouth.  Just saying. 

Cynically, Compliance exploits its audience while indulging our scopophilia; as much as we sympathise with Becky and are repulsed by her ordeal, we want to see what she goes through.  We’re culpable in her abuse because while the film doesn’t show us anything particularly horrifying or shocking, (make no mistake, you’re not watching Salò here) we want to be horrified, we want to be shocked.  And, if we’re honest, we want to see just how perky the perky blonde from Don’t Trust The B**** In Apartment 23 is. Compliance is a piece of cool manipulation, a film that’s based around the humiliation, subjugation and sexual assault of an attractive young woman and has little to offer beyond that.  And while the events depicted in the film are suggested by truth, things only escalated as far as they did in one documented case.  ONE!  And that was in Kentucky where they still think the telephone is the Devil’s Work.  That means that in pretty much every instance the victims smelt a rat and called a halt to the ordeal before things escalated out of control. 

If Compliance teaches us anything, it’s not that most of us are sheep who will mindlessly, unquestioningly follow orders.  It’s that (***minor spoiler alert***) if you’re going to make crank calls, DON’T DO IT FROM YOUR OWN HOUSE!  That’s not really a good enough reason to retread an old episode of Law & Order: SVU 

David Watson


Directed by:
Written by:
Produced by:
Starring:
Genres:
Crime, Drama, Thriller
Language:
English
Runtime:
1 hour 30 minutes
Certificate:
15
UK Release Date:
Friday 22nd March 2013
Rating:
2/5

A comedy for people who find laughter over-rated - Small Apartments


Small Apartments

If the idea of Little Britain’s Matt Lucas as a landlord-killing peeping tom with a Swiss fetish (naked but for his tight, white Y-fronts) playing an Alpine horn and incongruously perving over Juno Temple gives you the horn then you’re in luck, Jonas Åkerlund’s Small Apartments is the film you’ve been waiting for!

Franklin Franklin (Matt Lucas) is a reclusive, disturbed man-child with alopecia who dreams of Switzerland and spends his days wandering around in his pants and blowing his Alpine horn.  He lives in a dilapidated LA apartment building populated by screw-ups and rejects like the drug-addled Tommy Balls (Johnny Knoxville, who else?) and the gruff, busybody Mr Allspice (James Caan), spies on his Lolita-esque neighbor Simone (Juno Temple) and receives daily packages in the mail containing audio tapes and toenail clippings from his insane brother Bernard (James Marsden) who is under the spell of perma-tanned, pop psychologist Dr Mennox (Dolph Lundgren).

When he accidentally kills his repellant, bullying landlord Mr Olivetti (Peter Stormare) during an argument about his overdue rent, Franklin panics and (on the advice of his dog!) decides to make it look like Olivetti committed suicide.  BY STABBING HIM, SHOOTING HIM AND SETTING HIM ON FIRE.  Franklin, in case you’re wondering, is no rocket scientist and the botched attempt arouses the suspicions of dogged fire investigator Burt Walnut (Billy Crystal).  But fate hasn’t finished with Franklin just yet… 

A comedy for people who find laughter over-rated, Small Apartments is a willfully misanthropic cavalcade of grotesquerie that not only aspires to cult status but is actively designed to be the kind of quirky, smugathon that’ll appeal to a select few chin-strokers who are too cool for school. 

Adapted by Chris Mills from his own novel which won the 23rd Annual International 3-Day Novel Writing Contest, Åkerlund’s film would suggest that Mills probably polished the book off in one day and spent the other two blowing on his own special Alpine horn.  Having given us The Prodigy’s Smack My Bitch Up video and Mena Suvari’s constipated speed freak taking a graphically unerotic dump in tweaker Short Cuts, Spun, one could never accuse Åkerlund of subtlety and, when professional douchebag Johnny Knoxville’s guyliner-wearing stoner is the closest thing in the film to a relatable, human character, no-one’s about to start now.  Still, Åkerlund has worked extensively with Madonna so if anyone is an expert on charmless, unloveable grotesques, it’s probably him.  

The oddball supporting cast are fine and James’ Marsden and Caan are even quite good but Small Apartments is, for better or worse, built upon Lucas and whether you empathise with his oddball mouth-breather.  If you don’t it’s a looooooooong hour and a half.  It has some rather obvious points to make (weirdoes have feelings too, follow your dreams, blah-de-blah…) which it repeatedly smacks you about the chops with but, ultimately, Small Apartments is a needy, self-satisfied, attention-seeking film screaming “Look at me, look at me…” like some Montessori-schooled incubus.

David Watson


Directed by:
Written by:
Starring:
Matt Lucas, Johnny Knoxville, Billy Crystal, Juno Temple, James Marsden, Rebel Wilson, Saffron Burrows, Rosie Perez, Dolph Lundgren and James Caan
Genres:
Black Comedy
Language:
English
Runtime:
97 minutes (approx)
Certificate:
15
UK Release Date:
Friday 22nd March 2013
Rating:
2/5

Thursday 14 March 2013

Welcome To The Punch


Welcome To The Punch

Brit bullet ballet

James McAvoy is everywhere right now.  Currently treading the boards in London, he’s a post-apocalyptic Macbeth haunting Trafalgar Studios.  He keeps popping up on British chat shows sporting varying degrees of beard and being twinkly, charming and lovely.  And he’s got a bunch of films coming out over the next few months.  We’ll see him as the dodgiest of dodgy coppers in Scotland’s answer to Bad Lieutenant, director Jon S. Baird’s adaptation of Irvine Welsh’s Filth.  He’ll also be the hapless amnesiac within whose head lurks a fortune in Danny Boyle’s convoluted, twisty, turny, shouty new film Trance.  But first up he’s a tortured, driven cop out to catch Mark Strong’s vengeful ex-gangster in writer/director Eran Creevy’s ferocious, Hong Kong-style bullet ballet, Welcome To The Punch.

When his son is shot during a botched drug deal, former armed robber Jacob Sternwood (Mark Strong), in hiding in Iceland, returns to London determined to find out what happened in the process giving burnt-out cop Max Lewinsky (James McAvoy) one last chance to catch him.  Years earlier, during a multi-million pound heist, Sternwood shot and wounded the ambitious Lewinsky while making his escape, almost ending the young cop’s career, and now Max is out for revenge.  But as Sternwood closes in on his son’s killers and Max closes in on Sternwood, the two men find themselves forced to put aside their personal vendetta as they uncover a deadly conspiracy and must work together to destroy a common enemy.

The film that Nick Love’s ponderous, lumbering The Sweeney desperately wanted to be, Welcome To The Punch hits the ground running with a furious chase sequence that sets the scene for the 90-odd minutes of muscular action and mayhem that follows.  A quantum leap in style from the gritty social realism of his debut film, the urban drama Shifty (which also featured the wonderful Daniel Mays and Jason Flemyng), Creevy brings the hi-octane, stylised violence and themes of Hong Kong’s Heroic Bloodshed genre to a neon-splashed, London that wouldn’t look out of place in a Michael Mann film, paring the backstory to the bone to create a lean, mean, pulse-pounding thriller that retains a decidedly British feel in amongst the beautifully choreographed gunplay (a particular highlight being the Mexican stand-off and subsequent slo-mo shoot-out in a pensioner’s front room).

As the morally complex antiheroes, McAvoy and Strong are excellent; Strong bringing a silence and an almost glacial stillness to his honourable gangster that’s magnetic to watch while McAvoy’s nervy, pill-popping cop is a ball of restless fury, constantly in motion (even if hampered by an Estuary accent.  What?  There’s no Scots coppers in London?), and there’s strong support from the likes of Peter Mullan, Andrea Riseborough, David Morrissey and Johnny Harris. 

The real stars of the film though are Creevy and his cinematographer Ed Wild who deliver a moody, icy blue, widescreen vision of London as a nocturnal Hell, the characters dwarfed by the cold steel, diamond glass and concrete of Canary Wharf and Docklands, a hostile, unforgiving arena that’s the perfect backdrop for the film’s intense, beautiful carnage.

Slick, sleek and ambitious, Welcome To The Punch is top drawer Saturday night entertainment.

David Watson

Directed by:
Written by:
Produced by:
Starring:
Genres:
Action, Adventure, Crime, Thriller
Language:
English
Runtime:
1 hour 39 minutes
Certificate:
15
Rating:
4/5
UK Cinema Release Date:
Friday 15th March

Maniac


Maniac

Hair-raising

Look to your right.  Against that lurid purple background reminiscent of one of Jack Nicholson’s suits in Tim Burton’s Batman is a rating out of 5.  Apparently there are some people out there who base their decision whether or not to see a film purely on that rating.  Those people should definitely see Maniac.  They should have a big dinner first.  Then at the concession stand they should invest in a bucket of their favourite tooth-rotting syrupy soft drink.  And some nachos caked in industrial cheese.  Mmm…yummy!  Enjoy! 

Now they’re out of the way and probably puking in that bucket, you should know that whatever numerical value that sits to your right doesn’t accurately reflect the film you’ll see.  Some of you will love this film.  Some of you will despise it.  It’s unavoidable.  Quite simply, Maniac is a truly repellant, bleak, nihilistic, nasty film that’s also one of the most visually stunning, original, disturbing, experimental pieces of cinema you’ll see all year.

A remake of William Lustig’s 1980 down-and-dirty slasher flick, the titular Maniac is Frank (a scary, fantastic Elijah Wood) a shy, sensitive young fellow who collects and restores mannequins by day.  But by night Frank, plagued by migraines and mommy issues, hunts and brutally murders women, collecting his victims’ scalps, taking his trophies home and stapling the scalps to his models’ heads, induling in fantasy relationships with his ‘girlfriends.’

When he meets Anna (French actress Nora Arnezeder), a photographer who wants to use his mannequins as the subject of her next exhibition, the two form a connection.  Anna brings the lonely Frank out of his shell, allows him to function (almost!) as a normal person, their tentative relationship offering a glimmer of redemption.  But there’s always someone coming between them, Frank wants her all to himself and his headaches are only getting worse…

Shifting location from the original’s sleazy, pre-Giuliani cesspool New York to a sweaty, neon-lit Los Angeles, Maniac also puts you right behind the killer’s eyes, director Franck Khalfoun and cinematographer Maxime Alexandre shooting virtually the whole film in highly stylised subjective POV with star Wood’s cherubic features and soulful, saucer eyes glimpsed only fleetingly in photographs and reflections (one shot brilliantly recreating the Lustig’s original’s lurid poster image in a car door reflection). 

It’s a bold, experimental move, inviting the audience directly into Frank’s fractured world allowing us to empathise with him while also condemning us for our scopophilic desires, our vicarious pleasure in Frank’s actions.  The effect is stunning, disorienting, often nauseating and potentially alienating, giving the audience no safe retreat, no respite.  It’s our hands repeatedly plunging the knife into that girl, our hands strangling the life from another, our hands lovingly slicing, ripping the dripping scalps from their skulls.  Alexandre’s camera never flinches, never looks away, recording every brutal, horrific detail even down to Frank’s constant use of bug spray as he constantly battles the flies feasting on his trophy scalps.  Khalfoun doesn’t just put us behind Frank’s eyes, he plugs us directly into his brain allowing us to experience the paranoid freak-outs, traumatic memories and visual and auditory hallucinations that plague him.  There’s no escape.

Lustig’s original Maniac was a nasty, misogynistic little film that shocked audiences back in the ‘80s, earning itself a cult following among horror fans and gore hounds, but otherwise is largely forgotten today and it’s tempting to write Khalfoun’s film off as a cynical exercise in nostalgic woman-bashing.  While it’s not without it its faults, not least of which is a childishly simplistic motivation for our killer (Mommy was a whore and he didn’t get enough cuddles!) and a middle third that sags into tedium (how do you make killing beautiful women boring?), Khalfoun’s Maniac is a gruesome, nerve-shredding art-house shocker that’s quite literally in your face, implicating its audience in the onscreen horror.  A beautiful, disturbing, sickening piece of filmmaking.                

David Watson

Directed by:
Written by:
Produced by:
Starring:
Genres:
Crime, Horror, Thriller
Language:
English
Runtime:
1 hour 29 minutes
Certificate:
18
Rating:
4/5
UK Cinema Release Date:
Friday 15th March

Side Effects


Side Effects

May cause drowsiness

 “Medication.  Medication.  Medication.
That’s what you need.
If you wanna be the best,
and you wanna beat the rest.
Oo-ooh!  Medication’s what you need.”

These weren’t the actual lyrics to BBC1’s Record Breakers theme song but, if you’re of a certain age, you may well have sang them in the school playground and it’s our increasing reliance on medication that lies at the heart of Steven Soderbergh’s new thriller Side Effects.

When her husband, disgraced insider trader Martin (Channing Tatum), is released after serving a four-year sentence, highly-strung Emily Taylor (Rooney Mara) struggles to adjust to his return and slips into depression. 

After an abortive suicide attempt (she drives her car straight into a wall), Emily finds herself under the care of slick but caring psychiatrist Dr Jonathan Banks (Jude Law).  After consulting with Emily’s previous therapist, Dr Victoria Siebert (Catherine Zeta-Jones), Banks prescribes Emily the newly approved wonder drug, antidepressant Ablixa. 

At first, the drug does indeed work wonders but every drug has side effects and while Martin has few complaints about Emily’s vastly increased, rampant libido, her new habit of sleepwalking is a little more disturbing, Emily entering fugue states which see her prepare breakfast in the middle of the night or zone out and forget to get off the train and go to work. 

Concerned, Banks proposes changing her medication but Emily is adamant the drug is working for her, that it’s her best chance at a normal life.  Then, in a trance-like state, she commits a shocking act of violence and finds herself on trial for murder.  As Emily’s life unravels, Banks finds himself in the firing line…

Side Effects should probably come with its own prescription warning listing the side effects that may result from watching Side Effects. 

Warning!  Watching Side Effects may cause drowsiness during its flabby middle third. 

Warning!  Watching Side Effects may cause disorientation as it shifts gears halfway through and goes from being an exposé of the drug industry to being a fairly obvious mystery thriller.

Warning!  While watching Side Effects, you may experience extreme déjà vu as the plot is reminiscent of a reheated episode of Midsomer Murders.  Albeit classier.  Maybe Lewis then rather than Midsomer.  But you’ve definitely seen this potboiling plot before.

Warning!  If you’re planning to watch Side Effects, don’t watch the trailer, which, like the trailer for the recent Broken City, reveals enough plot in two minutes to allow a ten-year old whose spent their life in a cave in the Andes to forecast every twist and turn in its 106 minutes.

With Side Effects being Steven Soderbergh’s alleged directorial swan song, he’s publicly said this will be his last film, this seems as good a time to commit critical heresy and ask the one question no one’s asking: are we really going to miss him? 

From his earlier, masturbatory work (Sex, Lies And Videotape, Kafka, Schizopolis) through films like Erin Brockovich and Traffic, from his “ironic” modern Rat Pack movies (Ocean’s Eleven through Thirteen) to the wintry narcissism of more recent films like The Girlfriend Experience and Magic Mike, Soderbergh’s films have been mostly glossy, smart, good-looking affairs that often feel emotionally vacuous, chic and elegant but uninvolving.  He’s made 25 films in 25 years and dipped his trotters in genres as diverse as Sci-Fi (Solaris), Crime (The Limey), Action (Haywire) and Noir (The Underneath, The Good German) but be honest; how many of his films have actually moved you?

Like most of Soderbergh’s oeuvre, Side Effects is slick, stylish, clever and handsome but it never quite engages you on an emotional level.  The first third or so charting Emily’s battle with depression and her increasing dependence on the quick-fix solution of antidepressants feels like an exposé of corporate healthcare and big pharma (you mean, drug companies court doctors by wining and dining them and paying them for their involvement in trials?  I feel so used…), without actually addressing the real issues or acknowledging the often life-saving benefits of treatment.  Statistically, 13-15% of us reading this right now are probably taking an SSRI or SSNI but Side Effects never really engages with this fact, preferring instead the tried and tested “pill-popping baaaaad!” route.

Then, as Emily faces prison and Banks faces financial and personal ruin, Side Effects transforms itself into a fairly obvious, pedestrian mystery thriller that offers few surprises but holds your attention thanks to Soderbergh’s machine-tooled precision, his surface gloss and good performances from it’s protagonists.  As Emily, Rooney Mara gets to display a little more range than she did as lesbian Goth avenger Lisbeth Salander in David Fincher’s The Girl With The iPhone, Catherine Zeta-Jones is obviously relishing her ice queen role and while the idea of lovable lummox Channing Tatum as a financial whizz-kid is as believable and perverse as casting Barbara Streisand as a beautiful $500-an-hour hooker (yup, you read that right, $500. An hour!) in 1987’s Nuts, he’s a charming and sympathetic presence (unlike Babs.  Seriously, $500?).  Perhaps the best thing about Side Effects however is it reminds you just how good an actor Jude Law is.  Handsome and charismatic, he’s often called upon to be little more than a smug, arrogant smirk.  Here he manages the near impossible making a rich, well-educated, entitled, middle class psychiatrist, fighting to maintain his privileged lifestyle, not only a sympathetic but likable protagonist.

Nowhere near as smart as it thinks it with a final, punitive twist that feels more than a little misogynistic, Side Effects is an enjoyable slice of glitter.  If this really is Soderbergh’s final film however, you’d think he’d have aimed for something a little less forgettable…

David Watson

Directed by:
Written by:
Produced by:
Starring:
Genres:
Crime, Drama, Thriller
Language:
English
Runtime:
1 hour 46 minutes
Certificate:
15
Rating:
3/5
UK Cinema Release Date:
Friday 8th March 

Interview - Chris Terrio, Oscar-wining screenwriter of Argo


Chris Terrio Interview

With the awards-laden Argo hitting the home market this week, David Watson talks to Oscar-winning screenwriter Chris Terrio.

1979 was a pretty momentous year.  Sid Vicious died of a heroin overdose.  Scotland voted for home rule but didn’t get it.  The first Sony Walkmans went on sale.  Jacko released Off The Wall.  Margaret Thatcher swept to power becoming Britain’s first female Prime Minister.  And in Iran, the Islamic Revolution paved the way for the return from exile of the Ayatollah Khomeini and a wave of anti-Western unrest culminating in a mob of Islamist students storming Tehran’s US Embassy and seizing 52 American hostages who would eventually be held for 444 days by the Iranian regime.  Six US diplomats however escaped the takeover of the Embassy and went into hiding at the homes of Canadian Embassy staff, eventually being rescued in what came to be known as the “Canadian Caper.” 

Born in 1976, screenwriter Chris Terrio was three when the Canadian Caper played out and last week deservedly won the Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar for Argo, his dramatisation of the rescue and his first major produced screenplay.

“I live in New York and I was writing a lot of spec scripts that weren’t getting made,” says Chris Terrio, “But I’d worked for a producer named Nina Wolarsky who was producing independent films in New York and she went to work for George (Clooney) and Grant (Heslov).” 

“And they had this idea about making a film about this episode and they’d optioned a magazine article about it.  But they didn’t quite know what the story was, they didn’t know whether it was like The Men Who Stare At Goats or more like Syriana or some other thing because they knew it involved all these disparate elements and tones. 

“So I asked them to let me pitch it, to let me go off and create a pitch.  So I went off and wrote quite a long pitch about what the movie might be, including a bunch of scenes that are still in the movie that I just scrawled as my original take.  And then, ah, I was cheap and they hired me.”

Obviously any film that’s based on true story takes certain liberties with the truth.  Names are changed to protect the innocent and guilty alike.  Facts are massaged.  Characters become composites.  Events are sexed up, made more dramatic, more cinematic.  Sacrifices always have to be made particularly when you’re trying to make such a complex story fit the conventions of the traditional Hollywood thriller structure.

Terrio explains: “First of all, there were other Canadian diplomats involved in this.” 

“There were John and Zena Sheardown, who are fascinating people and kinda heroic in what they did,” says Terrio, “but as there were so many different things going on the film, when you came back to Tehran, we felt that we had to centre the houseguests in one house instead of in two different houses so first of all there were things like that. 

“But then there were also all these other sub-plots like the fact that the press found out about this, which is slightly alluded to in the film in one scene, but there was this whole other story about the press getting hold of the story and if the press revealed it then they would have been compromised and they could have been killed.  So there was a whole sub-plot about that going on. 

“There was whole other things about the Canadian Government; they had to hold a special session of Parliament in Ottawa to approve the fake passports because that was something Canada had never done before.” 

“There were all these other stories around the main story,” Terrio continues, “but finally I thought the railroad track you have to follow is Tony Mendez (director Ben Affleck’s character). 

“Except for the beginning, once we get to Tony, every little tributary of the river has to come off Tony otherwise it becomes a mini-series of all these things going on.  So in centring the story on Tony, you definitely sacrifice all these other interesting aspects of the story.” 

“Honestly, the way that things happen within the Ambassador’s residence, in Ken Taylor’s residence,” says Terrio, “to me that’s like a play in itself, it’s like Jean-Paul Sartre, all these people stuck in a house together, that in itself is fascinating drama but we could only gesture at that in the course of two hours. 

“So yeah, lots of sacrifices.  And some of them quite painful.  But ultimately Ben and I shared the idea that if the audience isn’t…if you’re not constantly moving the story along then nobody’s going to see the film and then everything’s in vain.  So we tried to be as economic as we could.”

A dazzling thriller which credits its audience with at least as much intelligence as the filmmakers, the engine driving Argo is the real-life character of CIA exfiltration specialist Tony Mendez, played in the movie by director Ben Affleck.

“He lives in Maryland now and I went down to meet him and spend some time with him, spend nights drinking with him and getting to know him,” says Terrio.  “And then he took me to Washington DC and took me to Langley so I got to meet other retired CIA officers, mostly, some of whom were very active during the Cold War. 

“And there’s this whole sort of…colony of former Cold War spies who now live in DC, both on the American side and on the Soviet side.  You have certain guys who were like KGB agents who now are buddies with Tony Mendez. 

“I felt very lucky that most of the participants are still alive and so I could get details from them that otherwise I wouldn’t be able to get.  You know you’re not gonna necessarily find in a book the fact that the CIA “Pit,” which is the big office where things are done, that it’s always a mess and the coffee maker didn’t work and the ashtrays were piled a foot high and all these little textural details that give you the quotidian sense of life as a CIA officer, which I think takes you out of a glossier version of the intelligence world and more into the world of Argo.”

“All of the houseguests now have seen the film and they’re really supportive,” Terrio continues.  Joe Stafford who’s portrayed by Scoot McNairy in the film hasn’t seen it, he’s in the Sudan, but his wife Kathy’s seen it and everyone else has seen it. 

“And once the actors playing the houseguests started talking to the houseguests, we would get interesting moments on set where, like, Rory Cochrane who plays Lee Schatz would say to Ben: “I’m not going to smoke in this scene because Lee didn’t smoke at this time,” Ben would be like “I want you to smoke,” and Rory would be like “No!  Lee doesn’t smoke!” 

“And that’s always the tricky part of dealing with living people.  You have to give yourself licence to fictionalise things even while you’re dwelling upon them as a resource.”

While Argo deals intelligently with a dark time in US foreign relations and the events it depicts still reverberate today, it’s also a sharp satire on the movie biz, turning a jaundiced eye on Hollywood, allowing the filmmakers to successfully juggle very different tones.

“A lot of that was trial and error,” admits Terrio.  “There were certain scenes that we felt went too far into the territory of The Player or What Makes Sammy Run?  We could never get too broad as a Hollywood satire but that said, within the film, you do have people who embodied these disparate tones. 

John Chambers who John Goodman plays really was, first of all he looked strikingly like John Goodman and second, he was this kind of acerbic, hilarious guy who was making creature masks on the set of sci-fi films but by night was working for the CIA developing disguise technology. 

“So right in the middle of the story, in Burbank, California, we had the two-faced Janus who embodied two tones of the film, which is to say, acerbic Hollywood satire and espionage thriller.  So, I felt like we had this gift of having John Chambers at the centre of the movie. 

“But then, also other characters, like the Alan Arkin character, developed around…some of it just around my own observations as kind of an outsider coming from New York, looking at Hollywood.  And some of it just because of my love of ‘70s films that could embody that.  Like Network that so many screenwriters always talk about, it’s a bit of a cliché, but there’s a film where you have Paddy Chayefsky who has almost this dark, immigrant sense of humour and he could focus that on big, political issues. 

“So, at once, you could have this satirical film that is actually about something broader and bigger and important.  Whenever I was lost tonally, I would look to those films and think “Well, they pulled it off, so if I can do it half as well or a quarter as well as those guys, I’ll be ok.”

There are no big FX-laden action scenes in Argo; much like Tomas Alfredson’s game-changing adaptation of John le Carre’s Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy much of the tension in key scenes is derived by watching grey men, bureaucrats, arguing in a room.  How do you make that exciting?

“It’s hard,” says Terrio.  “I think of film as, primarily, a visual medium.  I think there’s the theatre and there’s fiction, prose and poetry.  And then there’s film which has to take in elements of all those kinds of writing but ultimately is a visual experience. 

“Those scenes, they’re hard.  You write them and you tweet them and you keep trying different things but ultimately you rely on the director and rely on the actors because those scenes are so difficult to direct and you have to be so careful not only on the day of the shoot but so careful in the casting. 

“You know, Bryan Cranston giving one loaded look to Ben Affleck tells you a whole lot that I couldn’t accomplish in the script or Zeljko Ivanek, who’s the State Department guy giving this ridiculous idea about the hostages escaping on bicycles, which was a real idea by the way that the State Department floated, that could easily sound like Theatre of the Absurd.  But, you get an actor as truthful as Zeljko, and you don’t doubt for a second that this State Department guy is earnestly giving this bad idea.  So, there’s a lot of tweaking, but ultimately it’s in the director’s hands.”

Terrio’s admiration for Affleck is obvious and touching as he enthuses about his director.

“Ben, and I’m not just saying this because he’s famous and stuff,” says Terrio, “but Ben really is the easiest, smartest person to work with. 

“This is the first movie I’ve gotten produced that I’ve written and I really didn’t know what to expect.  I got a call one day on my cell phone that Ben Affleck was calling to talk about your script and I had no idea, I don’t know a lot of movie stars, I didn’t know what to expect but he immediately put me at ease and you just felt, like, he was - in a nerdy, intense way - he was dedicated to trying to make the film good. 

“And that’s where I feel like we could meet because, as a writer, you spend a lot of time alone, I’m probably, like, a slightly awkward, nerdy person but the great thing is when you find somebody who exists on that same nerdy plain as you do and, maybe I’m not that good at small talk, but I thrive if we’re talking about how to make the scene better. 

“So Ben and I immediately clicked on that level because he’s a really dedicated director and a student of film.  He has a library in his house of thousands of films and can just immediately refer to any number of films from any era, including the ‘70s which is probably his favourite era and mine.” 

A director himself, there must surely have been moments where Terrio thought: “That should be me.  I should be directing this.”?

“It’s such a big complicated film,” says Terrio, “and my experience in film has tended to be smaller and more independent so, sure as a director there are definitely some moments where you think “Oh God, I’d love to be in his chair,” but Ben was actually so inclusive and so generous about it and so I felt like we were on the same team and I would say to him “You know, I’m happy to be Robin if you’re Batman.”  I felt like he genuinely had a utility belt and a skillset that I didn’t have and had so much experience and has been in so many films and directed two very good films, I was just grateful to have somebody with his virtuosic abilities to just get in there and make it work.”

Terrio continues: “You show up sometimes for work and it’s a scene with thousands of extras in Istanbul outside the embassy, I think “Christ!  I’m glad I’m not in charge of all these people!  I’m glad I’m not the guy who has to make it work!”  So it’s been like free film school for me because I’ve got to work on the script and then watch really good people execute it.  But, you know, Ben and I are gonna work together on something, we’ve made plans, we’re gonna work together again so, yeah, I think something went right with us creatively.”



BAFTA award winning Argo is out on DVD, Blu-ray and digital download on Monday  4th MARCH.