Review: Wonderstruck, Glasgow Film Fest 2018

With most literary adaptations, you wonder how the filmmaker could possibly translate the magical, methodical nuance of the written word, which comes to life in the reader’s mind across many hours, if not days or weeks of reading, into a couple of hours of moving images. With Wonderstruck, I found myself wondering how I could possibly be so moved by stories of these two children and their utter enchantment with the world around them without seeing into their wide, curious eyes.

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Review: Courtney Marie Andrews, Celtic Connections 2018

I had to ask myself at least twice during her performance whether the Courtney Marie Andrews on stage wasn’t in fact some kind of hologram. Between her tremendous voice – the kind that possess a vintage luster on account of its quality alone – and the almost ghostly way she appeared on stage, a spotlight playing around the edges of her all-white get-up like the fuzzy halo of a projected image, it seemed every bit possible that what we were seeing was actually an archive recording. Adding to the illusion was the red background lighting which hung like stage curtains as dust motes imitated film grain in the foreground, giving the whole affair the unmistakable feel of a seventies Scorsese music documentary shot on 35mm film.

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Review: Mount Eerie

The people of Glasgow have descended upon the city’s East End to grapple with two great forces of injustice. On one front, the most galvanising rap group in a generation scraps boisterously with those forces which can be changed – the laws and the distribution of resources, the notion that some of us matter while others do not. Their rallying cry bleeds through the backdoor and into the street, just audible from the entrance of a church across the way. Inside that church, another group has gathered before what used to be the altar to reckon with those forces which are not.

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Review: Far From Noise

The narrator in Far from Noise is freaking out, and with good reason. Thrown from the road by a spot of engine trouble, they’ve found themselves teetering on the edge of a cliff, one unlucky movement away from tumbling to a soggy death. At first they try to make light of the situation – ”People QUEUE for these kind of thrills!”, they joke – but with the sun setting and no luck starting the car again, panic begins to set in. Like most of us, the narrator is too young to die and has so much left to do. If this is the end, what have they left behind to be remembered by?

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