The Secret of Kells Offers an Enchanting Peek Into Irish History

I am generally drawn to all things Irish, so when I first heard of The Secret of Kells during the build-up to the 2010 Academy Awards, I was intrigued. I finally got around to seeing it the other night when I noticed that it is available on Netflix Instant Viewing, and now I understand why it received a nomination for Best Animated Film.

The Secret of Kells was written by Tomm Moore and Fabrice Ziolkowski and directed by Moore and Nora Twomey. The heavily stylized movie, which is only about 75 minutes in length, tells the story of the creation of the famed Book of Kells, an ancient Irish illuminated manuscript of the Gospel painstakingly transcribed by monks. I saw the book myself when I was in Dublin, and it’s quite the masterwork. The film has fanciful elements that feel very fitting for the realm of Irish legend, but it is rooted in historical events.

The story takes place around the eighth century AD, where young Brendan (Evan McGuire) lives peacefully in a community of monks that includes his uncle. A red-headed scamp, he is energetic and fascinated by tales of the Book of Iona, a magnificent manuscript that his older friends insist makes their own transcribing efforts pale in comparison. Even so, the monks believe that they are engaged in sacred work in the Scriptorium, and it annoys them that their abbot – Brendan’s uncle – is so insistent upon devoting most of the abbey’s resources to building fortifications against the savage Norsemen he fears will come calling before long. When famed Illuminator Brother Aidan (Mick Lally) of Iona shows up with the legendary book in tow, concentrating on the wall becomes even more difficult, especially for Brendan.

While everyone in the Irish voice cast is a joy to listen to, the only actor I recognized was Brendan Gleeson, who lends his distinctive voice to the role of austere Abbot Cellach. Tall, soft-spoken and severe, he seems to have a scowl etched on his face throughout most of the movie. Like Mad-Eye Moody, the eccentric Auror Gleeson portrays in the Harry Potter films, Cellach comes across as a bit paranoid, and it’s clear that the rest of his community suspects that his fixation on the Vikings is unfounded. In part because of my familiarity with Gleeson, whose performance is understated but compelling, I found myself particularly interested in what happened with Cellach.

I didn’t recognize Lally’s name or voice, but a look at IMDb informs me that I have seen him before as well, most notably as incomprehensible farmer Louis in the last season of the Irish dramedy Ballykissangel. His character seems like he should be a very serious fellow, but the elderly artisan is anything but. From the moment this monk who looks like an animated version of Willie Nelson arrives at Kells in the company of his inquisitive white cat Pangur Ban, who has one green eye and one blue eye, he displays a self-effacing joie de vivre that makes him even more appealing to Brendan.

Brendan really is the main character in the movie. A sweet but restless lad who is tired of being cooped up behind abbey walls, he apprentices himself to Aidan, defying his uncle’s orders to venture out into the forest in search of berries to be used for ink for the book. It is in the woods that he meets the enchanting Aisling, a sprightly creature who appears in the forms of both a silvery blond girl and a white wolf and claims that the forest belongs to her.

With her musical voice and enigmatic nature, she reminded me quite a bit of Evanna Lynch’s Luna, the delightful oddball in the Harry Potter series. The voice belongs to young Christen Mooney, who has only this film to her credit, and it is Aisling’s veiled face that graces the cover art. She is also the only character who sings, and her haunting lullaby is likely to ring in the ears for days afterward. This gentle sprite who helps Brendan in his quest and befriends him is representative of ancient Irish mythology, and in her relationship with the young monk in training, we get a taste of the ways in which the two very different worldviews have worked in tandem throughout much of Ireland’s history.

The film’s animation style is striking. The flat look reminds me of retro cartoons such as Powerpuff Girls, while the film’s most heavily stylized segments make me think of Watership Down and the ways in which legends and stories were depicted in that iconic movie about rabbits attempting to escape the encroaching city and find a new, safer home. One scene in that film is particularly traumatic, and that’s true here as well. The movie makes very effective use of color. It mostly sticks to browns, greens and whites, giving the abbey and forest a refreshing, pristine look enhanced by Bruno Coulais' mystical score, but the Vikings always are shown in a haze of black and red, and their voices are terrifying and cyborg-like. The battle scenes involving them are minimalistic, but this only seems to increase the horror.

Because of these couple of very dark scenes, I’d encourage caution in showing the movie to very young children, who might also have difficulty in understanding some of the eloquent dialogue, especially Aisling’s whispery words. On the other hand, this movie serves as an excellent, enchanting introduction to a chapter of Irish history and a truly wondrous artifact. I will never begrudge the masterful Up its Oscar win, but I’m glad that the Academy Awards helped to let this Secret out.

In Bruges Rises Above Profane Brutality to Be Profound

Last night, my friend Dan and I had a media marathon which started with Bolt, the recent computer-animated Disney flick starring Miley Cyrus and John Travolta. Despite a few theatrical explosions, the PG-rated film stayed firmly in family-friendly territory. Not so our next movie, the extremely R-rated In Bruges. I'd seen the trailer months ago and had thought it looked interesting, and a recommendation from my brother increased my interest, as did a Best Screenplay nomination, so I readily agreed when Dan suggested we rent it, even though I had a pretty good idea of its objectionable content.

In Bruges, written and directed by Martin McDonagh, is the story of two hit-men, Ray (Colin Farrell) and Ken (Brendan Gleeson), whose boss sends them to Bruges, Belgium, after a job goes sour. Unclear on their purpose in being sent to this ancient city, they take differing approaches to their predicament. Surly Ray is determined to be miserable, berating the city from the moment he gets off the train, while Ken looks upon it as a paid vacation and giddily immerses himself in the town's rich history. Both men have filthy mouths, but as Ken wanders through the streets in a state of childlike wonder and Ray retreats into dour introspection, it's hard to think of these men as killers. It isn't long, however, before the film provides a stark example of just what it is they do for a living.

Initially, I found Farrell quite unlikable as the grouchy Ray, until a flashback showed exactly what had happened to make him so ill-tempered. We soon learn that he's new to this business - that he's only had one assignment, in fact, with a disastrous outcome. He got his target - but a stray bullet hit a boy in the shadows, a child he didn't even know was there. And killing a kid was not what he signed on for. As he struggles through his intense feelings of remorse and despair, his comradeship with the more experienced Ken deepens over the course of the next couple of days. In the meantime, he manages to make both friends and enemies in his meanderings. Though Ray wrestles internally with deep questions, he acts impulsively, and many of the decisions he makes come back to haunt him later.

As a Harry Potter fan, it was a kick for me to see three of the series' actors gathered together in the same film. The most prominent of these is Gleeson, who was fantastic as gruff, formidable Auror Mad-Eye Moody. Ken is similarly weathered from many years in the trenches, though in this case he's working for Big Bad Ralph Fiennes instead of against him. Ironically enough, the man who breathed such sinister life into Voldemort now plays a man named Harry. But although Ken claims that Harry has only ever sent him on the trail of rotten people, his boss, while more human than Voldemort and with an unwavering (albeit brutal) sense of integrity, is not exactly a nice guy. By contrast, Gleeson's Ken is almost cuddly. He seems like a soul too gentle for this grim business, and throughout the film, he faces several moral crises that make him the most compelling of the trio of conflicted baddies.

Unwittingly drawn into the drama of these three men are luminous native Chloe (Clemence Poesy, better known to Harry Potter fans as Fleur Delacour), who embarks upon a whirlwind romance with Ray; the dwarf Jimmy (Jordan Prentice), an American actor who befriends the lovebirds; and Marie (Thekla Reuten), the pregnant owner of the hotel where Ken and Ray are staying. Much about Ray is revealed in the way he relates to these three characters. Though I found myself frustrated with him for his tendency to antagonize people, he also shows himself perfectly up to the task of treating others with kindness and respect.

In Bruges is an odd movie that asks us to sympathize with murderers and cheerfully endure a barrage of profanity that includes well over a hundred uses of a certain colorful metaphor beginning with the letter "f". It's excessive to the point of ridiculousness, with the f-bombs littering sentences with the absurd frequency of "like" in a stereotypical val-gal's rambling speech. Harry, who doesn't turn up until fairly late in the film, is the worst offender of all, with about every other word he says an expletive of some kind. He is a harsh man, though at the same time, he holds childhood as sacred, and there's something undeniably tender about his reasons for sending Ken and Ray to Bruges, despite what he ultimately wants to have happen there.

Though it's not pervasive, there are several instances of graphic violence in the film: once in a flashback, and a number of times throughout the last half hour or so. In some ways, the movie is a comedy of errors, with several mis-steps and bits of bad luck contributing to an ending that is less than uplifting. The film is not entirely realistic. Though Ray talks of Bruges as a podonk, middle-of-nowhere, exceedingly dull locale, Harry refers to it as a place out of a fairy tale, and there remains a sense of everything being a bit off-kilter. Harry and Ken, Ken and Ray and Ray and Harry each have at least one conversation that is patently ludicrous yet somehow insightful at the same time. Marie speaks for the audience at one point when, observing a showdown between characters, she cries, "You people are crazy!" The combination of almost Monty Python-esque silliness with high-stakes drama makes for riveting viewing, and like LOST, the film is loaded with religious imagery and completely preoccupied with the notion of redemption, inviting several parallels with my favorite TV show (and prompting me to wonder if the shot of an alarm clock showing the time 8:15 was an intentional homage).

I wouldn't recommend this movie for everyone. It goes under the category of films that I probably shouldn't like, based on all of their unsavory elements, but do anyway because, much like the characters in this movie, there's something of great value buried in all that grit and grime. While I'm not a fan of the language with which McDonagh chooses to tell his tale, I can understand how the screenplay was deemed worthy of Oscar consideration. It's a very clever script if you can get past language, and quite touching if you can get past the violence. If you can handle No Country For Old Men and Hot Fuzz, both darkly comedic films that impressed me mightily despite being extremely profane and gory, then chances are you're ready for a holiday In Bruges yourself.

While You Wait For Deathly Hallows, Enjoy Order of the Phoenix

It's a grand summer for Harry Potter fans. In little more than a week, all the questions that have been percolating for as many as ten years will be answered with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Till then, we have Order of the Phoenix to whet our appetites. Having recently re-read the first six books, I'm especially aware of how much richer they are than any film adaptations could be, but with new director David Yates at the helm, the fifth installment in Rowling's saga manages in two short hours to capture much of the majesty of the book.

Yes, it's ironic that the longest book should become the shortest movie, and I won't pretend I wouldn't have preferred an extra half-hour or so. But the streamlined approach taken by screenwriter Michael Goldenberg moves the action along quickly without sacrificing a great deal of significant content. For instance, the movie was nearly over before it occurred to me that we'd never seen a Quidditch match. While I missed the sense of staff solidarity present in the book, I didn't mind the near-exclusion of classes other than Defense Against the Dark Arts, particularly since other classes are entertainingly represented in a series of cleverly inter-cut scenes demonstrating the extent to which the sweetly villainous Dolores Umbridge (Imelda Staunton) has begun to overtake the school, and I won't argue with the decision once again to transfer Dobby's contributions to Neville (Matthew Lewis).

Other omissions are more glaring. Harry's (Daniel Radcliffe) angst, so prevalent and poisonous throughout much of the fifth book, appears only fleetingly in the film; gone entirely is Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione's (Emma Watson) appointment as Prefects, and thus the conflict arising from that. Rita Skeeter is absent, along with Nearly Headless Nick; while I expected he might be cut, there was one scene between him and Harry I'd especially hoped to see, or at least have alluded to. Other characters, like Ginny (Bonnie Wright) and Percy (Chris Rankin), show up but do so little their inclusion almost seems pointless; I especially feel for Ginny, whose only moment that feels noteworthy is casting a wistful glance at Harry as he stays behind after a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson to put in some yuletide snogging with Cho (Katie Leung), the deterioration of whose relationship with Harry is sped up with one character-defining moment that deviates considerably from the book.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. This film finds Harry in his fifth year, haunted by visions of Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes). The target of widespread scorn thanks to a relentless smear campaign by The Daily Prophet, he is often frustrated and depressed despite successfully avoiding expulsion for using magic to defend himself from a pair of Dementors. It seems the only person who really understands him these days is his fugitive godfather Sirius (Gary Oldman), who is warm and paternal but tends to regard Harry almost as the reincarnation of his best friend James. But then Hermione proposes a secret organization in which Harry will teach defensive magic to students who believe his story about Voldemort's return, and with a renewed sense of purpose he steps into the role of teacher, even as he fails to apply himself properly in private lessons with Professor Snape (Alan Rickman) intended help him to guard his mind against invasion. He knows it's only a matter of time before the Dark Lord will strike again. But when?

Visually, the film is incredibly appealing, and I admire Yates' creativity in covering a lot of ground in a very short time. In several montages accompanied by sprightly music, we see how the different professors react to the ever-smiling Umbridge, who is one of the most truly foul characters ever to grace the screen, and watch as curmudgeonly caretaker Argus Filch (David Bradley) gleefully acts as her henchman. Headlines and moving pictures from The Daily Prophet swirl artfully before the eyes, lingering just long enough to disseminate needed exposition.

This film feels more contemporary than the others, mostly because we seem to spend so much time in the city. The headquarters of the titular group of witches and wizards working to bring down the renewed Voldemort is located in London, as is the Ministry of Magic, so we have several stirring shots of the lit-up buildings whizzing past as Harry and his companions take to the skies. While the urban settings come to life, the Hogwarts grounds seem strangely drab, lifeless as though in the midst of a drought.

There are many feasts for the eyes, as when Number 12 Grimmauld Place suddenly appears in the midst of a mundane series of dwellings or when Filch teeters on ever taller and more precarious ladders to pound the latest Ministry decree into a wall already displaying dozens of them. Umbridge is brimming with eye-catching possibilities, from her grotesquely girlish office walls adorned with mewing kittens to the Dark Arts primers that bear a suspicious resemblance to Dick and Jane readers, as are the climactic scenes in the Department of Mysteries involving wayward spells and shattered glass.

Also impressive is the execution of the secret meetings of Harry's club, during which spells ricochet around the room in bursts of sound and color. The Patronus lesson is especially awe-inspiring. But perhaps the most exhilarating spectacle involves a grand gesture by Fred and George (James and Oliver Phelps); while it comes off a bit differently than in the book, it's an adrenaline rush nonetheless, the culmination of a very satisfying role for the twins in what could be their last film. Earlier, they stir up laughter when they Apparate ridiculously short distances or share their not-yet-perfected wares with unsuspecting students. I was hoping their prominence in this film would be retained, and on this score I was immensely gratified.

The children are all noticeably older; Hermione in particular has blossomed into a mature beauty, and she takes the initiative throughout the movie, particularly when her quick thinking lands Umbridge in a sticky situation, a scene which garnered many hearty guffaws. The tiny glimmer of connection that exists between her and Hagrid's (Robbie Coltrane) half-brother Grawp (Tony Maudsley) in the book is deepened in the film, and in coy moments with Ron she displays a readiness for a change in their relationship. Ron, meanwhile, is spared some of the goofy dialogue that has marred his role in earlier films, and Harry, with his closely cropped hair, looks older than he acts, though he shoulders the burdens thrust upon him remarkably well.

Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton) revels in his inclusion in Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad, and Seamus (Devon Murray) is briefly spotlighted as one of the students slow to believe Harry's account of his deadly encounter with Voldemort. I can't decide whether I'm happy with Neville. His affinity for herbology receives a nod as he clutches his mimbulus mimbletonia early in the film, but he never tells us what it is; we see a picture of his parents, and in an intimate scene, he quietly explains to Harry the effect their torture at the hands of Death Eaters has had on him, yet his touching visit with them at St. Mungo's gets left out. Curiously, Neville doesn't seem able to see the Thestrals, whose inclusion is otherwise well handled, particularly in an added scene involving a foal. Even more strangely, when we hear the prophecy, the wording is generalized so that compelling tie between Neville and Harry is lost. While I can overlook other changes, I confess I find this alteration distressing and one of the key reasons the ending pleased me less than the majority of the movie did. My only complaint with dreamy Luna, portrayed with refreshing candor by fledgling actress Evanna Lynch, is that she stops just short of providing further insight into the Veil we see in the Department of Mysteries.

Indeed, anyone who hasn't read the book might not catch the import of that briefly viewed doorway, and that's only one aspect of the showdown at the Ministry and its aftermath that feels glossed over. Three nefarious nemeses offer assault on Harry and his friends. Silky Lucius Malfoy (Jason Isaacs) serves as an antagonistic figurehead, while deranged Bellatrix LeStrange (Helena Bonham-Carter) cackles her way through her few lines. When Voldemort himself finally turns up, squaring off against Dumbledore, the effect is bone-chilling, particularly when he inhabits Harry's body in a bizarre sequence that suggests a temporary triumph belonging more to the teenager than to his headmaster. While I'm happier with Michael Gambon's performance here than in Goblet of Fire, he just doesn't quite seem like Dumbledore to me, and his post-crisis chat with Harry is disappointingly passionless and unenlightening, though the blame for this lies primarily with the screenplay, which leaves too many loose ends and denies Harry the cathartic experience of ransacking his patient headmaster's office.

The rest of the adults are effective if underused: woebegone, thick-lensed Trelawney (Emma Thompson); sibilant, sarcastic Snape; incensed, sympathetic McGonagall (Maggie Smith); brawny, idealistic Hagrid; doting, overprotective Molly (Julie Walters); wide-eyed, encouraging Arthur (Mark Williams); formidable, serene Kingsley (George Harris); wacky, ultra-vigilant Moody (Brendan Gleeson); wise, disheveled Lupin (David Thewlis); disbelieving, bureaucratic Fudge (Robert Hardy); spunky, appearance-changing Tonks (Natalia Tena). The only one who seems a bit off is tiny professor Flitwick (Warwick Davis), who strikes me as far too young and not quite cheerful enough, aside from his much-appreciated note of approval for the antics of Fred and George.

It's inevitable that the paring down of a 900-page book into a two-hour movie will leave any fan bemoaning certain losses, but with the exception of aspects of the ending, I found Order of the Phoenix quite accomplished and much funnier than I expected, given the oppressive trailers. The series has a way of running through nearly as many directors as Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, but it looks like Yates is on board for Half-Blood Prince. If he exercises the same degree of care there and perhaps allows himself a little longer running time, the sixth could well be the finest installment yet. Of the two major Harry Potter events of the summer, the release of the seventh book is by far the more exciting, but whether they catch it before the book to take the edge off the wait or after to ease the pain of the saga ending, The Order of the Phoenix is an impressive cinematic achievement in which Potter fans should rejoice.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Aside from a distractingly abrasive performance from Michael Gambon as Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is an excellent movie, with Brendan Gleeson and Ralph Fiennes compelling additions to the cast.

Cold Mountain Displays Strength of Spirit in the Face of Cold-Heartedness

Although I had a great desire to see Cold Mountain when it arrived in theaters at the tail end of last year, I suspected that this was a film I would be better off seeing in the comfort of a living room with an eye-shielding pillow handy. I expected the Civil War epic to contain several long and bloody battle scenes that might even require me to leave the room. So I was pleased to discover when I watched it last week that epic battles weren’t something I would have to worry about. My pillow did not lie idle, however; the violence in this movie remains, but it comes out in staccatos, displaying the enmity to be found among those who were supposed to be on the same side of the conflict.

Nicole Kidman stars as Ada Monroe, the pampered daughter of a minister (Donald Sutherland) who moves from socialite Charleston to the backwoods Cold Mountain in hopes that the fresh air will do his ailing heart some good. They settle in comfortably for a brief time before the beginning of the war, and during this interval Ada makes the acquaintance of Inman (Jude Law), a gentle man of quiet intensity. Though they hardly know one another at the time of their separation, the thought of reuniting sustains them both through the myriad trials that follow.

When Ada’s father succumbs to a heart attack, she is left alone with a lush estate but no money or skills to sustain it. She is reminiscent of Shannon, her character in Far and Away, in her ineptitude when it comes to dealing with everyday tasks, but she is kinder and less fiery than Shannon was at the beginning of the film. She doesn’t want to be spoiled, she’s just never had the opportunity to learn anything that would come in handy during such a trying time. Her kindly neighbor Sally (Kathy Baker) realizes this and sends help in the form of Ruby (Renee Zellweger), a tough-talking tomboy with enough spirit to rouse Ada out of her debilitating depression. Tending the farm turns out to be the least of their worries, however, as vigilante Teague (Ray Winstone) and his cronies terrorize the townspeople in their search for deserters and their helpers.

Meanwhile, after receiving an injury in battle, Inman decides to head back to Cold Mountain, moving from one life-threatening situation to another. He takes up with a series of characters upon whom war has also taken a great toll: Reverend Veasey (Philip Seymour Hoffman), an adulterous pastor with far less integrity than Inman; Maddy (Eileen Atkins), an elderly woman who takes Inman in after discovering him badly hurt; and Sara (Natalie Portman), a fierce and lovely young widow who gives Inman shelter for the night and is rewarded with his aid when Yankees strike her home.

The film follows the two main characters’ parallel storylines. The first we hear of Ada is in a letter Inman receives from her just before battle. Her story backtracks to the moment of her arrival in Cold Mountain, and it takes a while to catch up. Once it does, though, she faces as much danger in the comfort of her own home as Inman does on the run. This film does show the cruelty of war, but on a more personal level. It shows ordinary people trying desperately to survive – men trying to find their way home in spite of the brutally enforced mandates against desertion, women trying to fill the men’s shoes in their absence as food grows scarce and villainy abounds. Time and again, cold-hearted individuals go out of their way to destroy the lives of the decent folks in the film, and more often than not the perpetrators are Confederates just like the victims. The violence in the movie is no less traumatic for its brevity, and perhaps even more shocking.

Kidman again shows her acting chops in this film and demonstrates that she works especially well in period pieces. Law, meanwhile, manages to pull off an incredibly powerful performance with hardly any words at all. His goodness and strength shine through his grimy surroundings, and when he does open his mouth to speak, the words are always worthwhile. I confess that I usually can’t stand Zellweger, but her spunky character is probably the most enjoyable in the film and certainly provides a great deal of needed levity. Baker brings a blend of motherly warmth and sorrow to her portrayal of Sally; Sutherland, in his brief time on the screen, is a benevolent presence bringing great insight into the character of Ada. Other notables include Charlie Hunnam as Bosie, the villainous young man who gleefully hunts down deserters and those sympathetic to them, and Brendan Gleeson as Stobrad Thewes, Ruby’s vagabond fiddle-playing father.

Speaking of fiddles, the film’s soundtrack is lovely, featuring a great deal of folk music and many Celtic-tinged melodies reflecting the beauty of the land and the sorrow of the situation. Cold Mountain is hardly an uplifting movie. In fact, I would call it quite depressing. But it does show the strength of the human spirit in the darkest of times, and the dedication of the cast makes it a film worth investing nearly three hours in.