Bill Murray reunites with director Sofia Coppola for this lighthearted comedy starring Rashida Jones
Laura (Jones) a New York mother of two in her late 30’s becomes convinced that her workaholic husband is having an affair with his assistant. When she tells her eccentric playboy father (Murray) he insists they get to the bottom of it, and the two set out on a private detective style mission, stalking the husband (Marlon Wayans) around the city. On The Rocks reunites Murray with writer/director Sofia Coppola for their second feature film together after 2003’s Lost In Translation for which they were both Oscar nominated. This is an A24 production that has been picked up by Apple TV, meaning it’ll be going straight to streaming after a very limited cinema release.
So right off the bat, for whatever reason I’ve never really been a fan of Lost In Translation so I didn’t approach this film with a great deal of anticipation, but was actually really pleasantly surprised. I’m very fond of Rashida Jones’ comedy performances and she anchors On The Rocks with a lovely sense of wry frustration at the reality of married life. Where I and many for the most part may have become frustrated with endless films about hyper privileged New Yorkers, of which her character Laura is one, she has enough likeability to carry the story and her lifestyle off. Whilst Jones is the lead character, it really feels however that On The Rocks is nothing but a vehicle for Bill Murray to be exceedingly charming.
Murray’s Felix is an art dealer who spends his time philandering around the world, driving outlandish cars, wearing colourful linen suits and trying it on with beautiful women. Whilst grumpy Bill Murray is a great thing to have in a film, happy Bill Murray seems to be infinitely rarer and a lot more fun. In a character that seems influenced by the many tales of his own offbeat antics, Felix is often spouting quirky facts, amusing anecdotes and even bursting into song on occasion. He in a social butterfly that seems to entrance and manipulate literally everyone he comes into contact with. Where this might run the risk of making his character smug and off putting it is all underscored by a genuinely wholesome father/daughter (and father/granddaughter) relationship as he tries to remind Laura of her own worth and get her to embrace more fun and spontaneity in life.
On The Rocks is beautifully shot and features lovable characters acted with ease. It’s a fairly flimsy story, not making any great introspection of relationships and lacking in high drama, it is unlikely to make waves. But it is a genuinely fun, light hearted 96 minutes with several laugh out loud scenes that make it worth your time. A decent bit of entertainment.
On The Rocks is in cinemas now and starts streaming as part of Apple TV from 23rd October 2020. You can watch the trailer for it here on Youtube
Kate Winslet and Saoirse Ronan get cosy in Victorian romantic drama Ammonite, the closing film of the 2020 BFI London Film Festival
Ammonite is the second feature film from British writer/director Francis Lee. His first film God’s Own Country won awards and hearts all over the world, making Ammonite one of the most anticipated releases of 2020. Kate Winslet stars as Mary Anning, (a real figure though this is a fictionalised version of her life) a skilled paleontologist who now with her years of fame behind her ekes out a living finding and selling fossils on the Dorset coast. Her life is turned upside down when she is charged with looking after Charlotte Murchison, (Saoirse Ronan) a young newlywed who has been sent to recuperate at the seaside following an illness. With Charlotte’s husband away, she and Mary begin an intimate affair.
Ammonite is a beautiful piece of work grounded in appreciation of it’s setting. Filmed on location in Lyme Regis, Dorset nearly every scene is soundtracked by the crashing waves of the Jurassic Coast, it’s a rhythmic, soothing thing. Much like in Lee’s previous work there is near documentary level of attention to detail in creating the minutiae of it’s characters lives – sets are grimy, actors aren’t made up, thought is given to things like bathroom habits and bathing, nudity is practical and not specifically written to titillate which is really refreshing. There’s some beautiful, bleak cinematography from frequent Jacques Audiard collaborator Stéphane Fontaine highlighting the odd loneliness of the grey English coast. This is clearly a film made with great love.
Kate Winslet is wonderful as Mary. Guarded, fiercely independant and entertainingly foul mouthed she gives a brilliantly subtle performance of a woman afraid to let anyone in. Ronan brings such range to Charlotte, starting as the stone faced typical Victorian woman suffering grief but blossoming into the free spirited joy of a young woman in love. These are two actresses performing at the very peak of their abilities and their romance is a lovely thing to watch unfold. Sensitively and gradually done, great weight is given to soft touches, knowing glances and acts of service over hollywoodised declarations. It’s a delicate, subtle thing that spirals believably into hot and heavy physical scenes that are handled with great respect and care for it’s two stars. Ammonite’s cast is rounded out by Gemma Jones and Alec Secareanu who return from God’s Own Country, skilled theatre actor James McArdle and the ever excellent Fiona Shaw.
Ammonite is a rare and precious find, a period romance that charms with a loving attention to detail and a simple but intimate focus on two brilliant actors. It cements Francis Lee’s position as one of the most exciting filmmakers working in British cinema today.
Ammonite premiered in a special nationwide screening as part of the BFI London Film Festival on 17th October 2020. It’s general release is expected in 2021. Francis Lee is nominated for the IWC Schaffhausen filmmaker award.
No one is safe from the mob in grim Mexican dystopian drama New Order (Nuevo Orden)
New Order opens on the wedding of Marian in the garden of her family’s mansion in a wealthy neighbourhood of Mexico City. The ridiculous excess of Marian, her family and their many rich guests are contrasted against the poor treatment of their many servants, drivers and security guards. Festivities run wild all the while news reports heard in the background warn of growing civil unrest in the centre of the city. The party is suddenly and violently interrupted by a group of protestors who rampage through the house shooting the guests without provocation, robbing the rich and covering all of the artwork in green paint. Following several characters who have left the house we see that the rioting has taken over the whole city with wide scale looting, murder, and the kidnapping and attempted ransom of those who appear wealthy.
It’s a deeply nihilistic film reminiscent of Michael Haneke’s work that is likely to offend as many people as it pleases. It contains scenes of graphic violence, sexual assault, and torture as pretty much every character meets a grisly fate and takes a thoroughly non-committal approach to genuine socio-political commentary. The protestors are mostly depicted as indigenous Mexicans rising up against the white elite in what for many would be perceived as justified anger, but the extreme wanton violence from literally every element of society in the film makes it hard to find any “good guys.”
In some sense I appreciated the grim reality of the imagined revolution depicted in New Order as opposed to the romanticised ideals of something like V For Vendetta. A revolt is a messy business that threatens to destroy everyone. Yes the rich get eaten, but the poor suffer too whether it be through their utilities getting cut off, their homes getting looted, or sweet little old ladies dying because they can’t get hospital treatment during the chaos. It’s a dark vision in which the only motivation shared is greed. There’s also something to be said for the sheer spectacle of this film. Seeing the Zócalo and El Ángel strewn with naked bodies and splashed with green paint in glorious technicolour widescreen is… well it’s something.
New Order feels very rushed at 88 minutes (particularly in the third act) and leans more towards video nasty than damning statement on wealth inequality, and yet, it’s still a wild ride that I just couldn’t look away from.
New Order premiered in the UK as part of the BFI London Film Festival on 16th October 2020
A mother travels through the darkest parts of Mexico in a search for her missing son in Identifying Features (Sin Señas Particulares)
Magdalenas (Mercedes Hernández) young son Jesús sets off for the US border intending to find a job in America. A short while later she learns that the friend he was travelling with has been found murdered near the border crossing – her son is missing and assumed dead too. Unable to live with the uncertainty of his fate, Magdalena traces his journey north through lawless territories on a search for answers. A very grim sort of road movie, Identifying Features puts a spotlight on the huge upswing in violence and disappearances in Northern Mexico in recent years.
I was personally drawn to this film due to a recent experience of my own. I travelled over 1200 miles through Mexico earlier this year, nearly entirely on public buses as are seen in the film. I met lots of friendly, talkative Mexicans keen to tell me about their beautiful country, and several of them were people who had moved south to escape the growing violence near the border. There is a worrying fear that due to corruption the authorities have essentially given up on some areas of the northern states – allowing them to be taken over by gangs fuelled by the drug trade with the USA. Whilst Mexico City and the tourist zones are growing in wealth year by year it is the sad reality that thousands of families are seeing their relatives disappear in violent circumstances, never to be heard from again. A vital film then in bringing attention to this issue when the government perhaps want to keep it from people outside their borders.
The fact that this film comes from an entirely female creative team (director, producer, writer, D.O.P, editor and composer) feels evident in it’s centering of a violent story on a mother’s search. The filmmakers stated they wanted to tell the stories of the families who are left behind and the effects the loss of a person has on them. Accordingly Magdalena meets several other lost souls along her journey who are also looking for missing family members. Acting performances are strong all round and carried by Mercedes Hernández’ committed maternal worry.
Identifying Features is beautifully shot in widescreen, capturing some stunning landscapes shown in a lonely desolation with all their inhabitants scared off or killed. There are some artfully captured scenes shot in total darkness and lit only with firelight or torches which are particularly effective.
Where the film fails is that it makes no attempt to contextualise the events seen taking place. There is never any explanation of who is taking people or why – though the suspects are seen in the film no hint is given to their motives, instead throwing out a mysterious superstitious claim that it is ”the devil” who is to blame and even showing a stylized devil figure in one of the scenes. It is obviously an artistic choice to approach the storytelling this way, but I do worry that it fails to do justice to the very real events taking place and will rob audiences outside Mexico of the chance to become better educated.
A moving film about a mothers love and the torturous need to know what has happened to a missing person. But I do wish they had left mythology out of this odyssey and put more focus on the real socio-political issues.
Identifying Features premieres in the UK at the BFI London Film Festival on 15th October 2020
After Love is a moving drama about secrets, grief and closure from rising star Aleem Khan
Opening in the port town of Dover, British muslim convert Mary Hussain discovers a shocking secret when her husband unexpectedly dies – he has a whole other family living just the other side of the English channel in Calais. Mary makes the trip over hoping to get to the bottom of things and discovers the affair went far deeper than she could have imagined. After Love is a sensitively done study in uncovering secrets and reconciling with them, told from a perspective I can’t recall ever having featured in major British fiction before.
The film is led by Joanna Scanlan as Mary, she may have always been Terri from The Thick Of It to me but she has of course had a wonderfully varied career with twenty years of brilliant performances across British film and television. I found her portrayal here truly brave and understated. Though she only gets a few minutes of screentime with her deceased husband Ahmed (played by Nasser Memarzia) her feelings of love, grief and betrayal over him practically bleed from the screen. One scene in particular where she reminisces about their early years together when their relationship was forbidden is particularly poignant. Nathalie Richard and Talid Ariss are excellent as Ahmed’s French family Genevieve and Soloman – ably creating the predicament in which we see that there are no bad guys in this story, just ordinary families who each loved the deceased.
After Love’s strength lies in what is left unsaid, it’s a wonderfully subtle film that leaves much for the viewer to debate and decide for themselves. Does Mary regret converting to Islam now that she knows the man she converted for was having an affair? What leads someone to lead a double life? Were each of the couples truly happy together? As in real life there are no real answers, but plenty of rich backstory detail for us to complete the story as we see fit.
With particularly moving final scenes suggestive of reconciliation After Love is, at the end of it all, quite a hopeful film about finding common ground. Mature, sensitive and at times devastatingly honest in its portrayal of grief it is also beautifully shot, thoughtfully acted and very well written. An exceptionally skilled debut feature from a fascinating unique perspective.
After Love celebrates its world premiere at the BFI London Film Festival on 15th October 2020. Its director Aleem Khan has been shortlisted for the IWC Schaffhausen Filmmaker Award.
There’s both laughter and tears in Limbo, an incredibly human refugee drama from British writer/director Ben Sharrock
Limbo tells the story of Omar (played by Amir El-Masry), a young Syrian refugee stuck waiting out the result of his asylum application with other refuge seekers on a remote island in the Scottish Outer Hebrides. The second feature film from Screen Academy Scotland graduate Ben Sharrock, it’s a strikingly nuanced look at the absurdities of the British asylum process and the desperate people caught up in it.
At first look, Limbo is utterly charming; quirky, humourous and packed with an intensely loveable supporting cast. Fun is poked at the supremely awkward ”how to integrate in the UK” classes the characters must attend, the ignorant locals living on the island and the lofty pipe dreams of Omar’s fellow refugees. Sharrock’s superbly warm but darkly comic writing imbues all of his characters with such genuine, relatable humanity that it is impossible not to root for them. All of this means that when hard times come – and these are people in crisis, so yes they do come – it hits you like an absolute sucker punch. An exquisite balance of comedy, tragedy and ultimately reality, this is compassionate film making packed full of pathos.
El-Masry is pitch perfect as Omar, often playing the straight man to the other refugees comedians he gives a marvelously subtle performance, slowly letting the audience in bit by bit to the fear and trauma of his experiences fleeing Syria and the worries for his displaced family who are strewn across the world – all of this written so plainly on his face. Vikash Bhai absolutely shines as Farhad, Omar’s Afghan housemate and Freddie Mercury superfan, he is the perfect comic relief and yet so much more. The cinematography is stunning, framing the beautiful but desolate Scottish island in such a way as to drive home the refugees sense of isolation and hopelessness. It’s strikingly filmed winter scenes will stick in the mind for a while.
Honestly, whilst I’ve already given several films at the 2020 London Film Festival 5 star reviews, and they did all deserve them, Limbo really is something very special. Flitting so effortlessly between light, offbeat humour and hopeless tragedy it is masterfully handled; brilliantly written, beautiful to look at, and very well acted. It moved me to both happy and sad tears in it’s relatively short run time and is the sort of film that left me staring blankly at the wall as the credits rolled, trying to digest everything I had felt. An intelligent, emotional and vital piece of film making about an essential human issue – I defy anyone to dislike it.
Limbo is playing as part of the BFI London Film Festival on 16th October 2020
A Common Crime (Un crimen común) is an intense Argentine drama about guilt, paranoia and an unjust society
Cecilia is a university professor living a very comfortable life with her young son in a nice neighbourhood. On a dark and stormy night she is woken by a loud banging at her front door. She sees that it is the teenage son of her housekeeper and he appears to be panicked, but fearing for her own security Cecilia pretends not to be home and does not let him in. The next day she learns that he has been murdered by the police just down the road from her house. Director Francisco Márquez attempts to highlight the inequalities of Argentine society in this, his second feature.
A Common Crime is filmed in 4:3 and for the most part via handheld shooting. A large portion of the film is in close up on Cecilia’s (Elisa Carricajo) face, showing us her reactions to events unfolding before her rather than those events themselves – or occasionally following her from behind as she moves through scenes, keeping her front and centre for all the action. The result is an intensely personal study of guilt which Carricajo performs admirably. In the days following the murder the starts to unravel – she becomes secretive, detached from her job and her friends and becomes intensely, overly protective of her own son. There are some great Lady Macbeth inspired moments where Cecilia is suggested to be stained by her actions and as the film reaches it’s climax it’s hinted via some horror-esque spooky scenes that she believes she is being haunted by the ghost of the murdered boy.
It’s a great little film about one woman’s guilt then, but where is fails to deliver is in putting a focus on the poorer members of society, which the director claimed he wanted to do. We do get a few scenes that display our lead characters complete obviousness to her own privilege – for instance a scene in which she is shocked to discover that a taxi will not drive her into her housekeepers neighbourhood – but for the most part Cecilia fails to engage on the key topics. Whilst she witnesses police harassment first hand she does nothing more than observe. We are told that the neighbourhood is rioting against police corruption following the murder but other than a very brief scene that Cecilia walks away from, this plot point in never seen on screen nor mentioned again. It’s an admirably made film, I just wish it had a better story.
When it comes to portraying guilt A Common Crime does well. But with the central plot point of a poor boy being murdered by police right in front of the nice house of a rich acquaintance; this seems like a wasted opportunity to make a much more powerful film.
A Common Crime premieres in the UK on 13th October 2020 at the BFI London Film Festival
A unique take on an old tale, Rose is a smart vampire story with both relevance and bite
Gripped by a mysterious illness that causes her to have a violent thirst for blood, Rose and her husband Sam live an isolated life together in a cabin deep in the woods. With a carefully planned routine they’ve built a home in which they can live safely and without public attention – but their refuge is put at risk when a stranger comes into their lives. Reading like a horror but presenting as a carefully played out study of a relationship – seriously, its full title is Rose: A Love Story – this debut feature from British director Jennifer Sheridan is beautifully made, cleverly written and nothing like what you might expect.
Personally I loved the unique take of the couple treating Rose’s affliction as if it as an illness rather than anything supernatural – it grounds it in a realism that is extremely uncommon in gothic fiction. Sam (Matt Stokoe – also the writer of the film) and Rose (Sophie Rundle) have a careful routine of separation, sterilisation and precaution to keep her away from any blood. It’s reminiscent of the methodical cleaning a surgical team do before going into theatre – or the disinfecting routine everyone is now doing due to covid – an auspicious coincidence for a film that has been several years in the making! Their isolated life of farming, hunting and cleaning is well thought out and attention is given to the notion of just how you would learn to get on with it if you were a vampire.
The two leads performances are tender and sweet with a steely grit beneath them when things take a turn. They play out the relatable exhausted but determined mentality of a family dealing with a chronic illness – it’s an interesting study on what it means to genuinely love someone without reservation. The fact that Rundle and Stokoe are a couple in real life certainly doesn’t hurt either – there is no shortage of chemistry on screen.
Filmed on location in Wales Rose has some stunning desolate forest scenes and a cleverly designed set for the house which contains lots of subtle clues to Rose’s true nature – slowly revealed to the viewer bit by bit. It’s well paced with a subtle simmering dread bubbling away beneath the surface. A tight 90 minutes of great entertainment with a climactic scene that genuinely made my jaw drop.
Rose: A Love Story is the most original bloodsucker film I’ve seen in years; deft, multifaceted and the signal of an exciting new talent in British filmmaking.
Rose has it’s world premiere at the BFI London Film Festival on 13th October 2020. It’s wider release date has yet to be confirmed.
A young artist clashes with the social and religious customs of village fisherman in Bangladeshi drama The Salt in Our Waters (Nonajoler Kabbo)
Debut feature from award winning Bangladeshi director Rezwan Sumit, I found The Salt in Our Waters to be a satisfyingly multi-layered tale of modernity vs. tradition and man vs. nature. Young city artist Rudro rents a cabin on the edge of a remote Bengali fishing village to work on his art – sculptures of the human form. Whilst he is initially welcomed by the villagers and their respected but authoritarian leader he quickly comes under suspicion when the fish the locals rely on to survive disappear from the waters, and Rudro’s non-adherence to their way of life is blamed as the cause.
In a clash of modern culture with old religion, it seems nearly everything Rudro does is wrong. He drinks alcohol, he does not come to prayers, he speaks freely with the women of the village, and when the locals get a look at his sculptures they are condemned as being false idols and blasphemous. As fishing boats start to come back empty, the villagers will not listen to his explanation that climate change is changing their environment, instead insisting that he has cursed them in a number of increasingly tense scenes.
It’s all beautifully shot with great use of vivid colours and real people filmed documentary style going about their daily business. The landscape is stunning and there are some scenes that are so artistically framed they look like they could be hung as a picture on a gallery wall.
I appreciate that there is more to this story than initially meets the eye. Rudro is countered by the autocratic ”Chairman” – the village Imam and leader played by popular character actor Fazlur Rahman Babu with great relish. It becomes increasingly apparent that whilst he may tell the villagers that they must spurn Rudro for offending god, it is really an exercise in control. The Salt in Our Waters features some deliciously played out pieces of manipulation and the scenes where the Chairman and Rudro (Titas Zia) face off are good fun. The secondary plot of the worrying ignorance of the effects of climate change feels timely and important, though it does take a back seat to the culture clash drama.
The film is not as profound as it perhaps might have been. The notion of the educated city boy coming along to save the ”yokels” from themselves is a bit of a cliche and could have been executed with more nuance. Nevertheless I found this a very enjoyable film and appreciate it’s focus on a realistic community living in such a precarious position, with the dangers for the many people living on the Bangladeshi coastline being all too real. Beautiful cinematography, and locations, fun performances and a likeable young hero vs. despotic old leader dynamic make it a very decent package.
The Salt in Our Waters premieres at the BFI London Film Festival on 13th October 2020
We sat down (virtually) with Cathy after the European premiere of her debut feature Wildfire at the BFI London Film Festival to talk about transgenerational trauma, shared psychosis and her incredible actors
You can read our interview below, or if you’re the more visual sort – watch the whole conversation with slightly more rambling from Dani!
D: Congratulations on the film Cathy, how has the festival circuit been treating you so far? C: It’s all been virtual! With Toronto they did have a physical screening but filmmakers weren’t present, and then with London film festival our film is a virtual screening so I’ve just been sitting at home. It all feels kind of strange and otherly, but equally I’m incredibly grateful that it’s out there because my biggest fear was that it would go into the deep freezer. I’m really grateful that the story is out there and it’s communicating something at a time when we need to talk.
Can you tell me a bit about where the inspiration for the film came from? Absolutely – unlike I suppose many films where you often have your script and then you go and cast it – I cast before I had an even idea. I had worked with Nora [Noone] and Nika [McGuigan] separately and it really was their remarkable ability and range to be both fierce and incredibly vulnerable that really excited me. I put them together and I sat back and watched them talk and it was like I had a yin and a yang. I just knew I had something, so we settled on telling a story about an intense sibling bond. We began looking at real stories about sisters and we came across the Eriksson twin sister story, which is about two sisters who had a shared psychosis. That really became a launch pad for us to try and understand what a shared psychosis was and also what would lead two sisters to such an extreme event. It really began a journey of researching and also building fact and fiction together. We brought the world back to the borderlands of Northern Ireland where I’m from, and that became a really important reference point about the past, the present and how where you’re from really shapes your sense of identity.
I’m familiar with that video of the Eriksson sisters – the reference to it in the film was immediately recognisable[You can watch the viral video we’re talking about here] Without giving too much about the film away – when I saw that video it was incredibly existential. I watched it and wondered how could you do that? How could your sister do that with you? It really troubled me that for the sisters it was not an act of suicide, it was an act of survival. It made me put a spin on everything, I realized that I needed look at how psychosis can change your state of mind and how a strong bond like that could bring you to the brink of something incredibly dangerous.
I really enjoyed the slow reveal of how The Troubles had affected the family and the whole community – what did you learn making this or want to show people about that sort of lasting trauma? As I began research I was looking at trauma on my own doorstep from growing up just as The Troubles were ending. I came across a term called transgenerational trauma, and that was the idea of trauma that can’t be expressed or understood so it’s passed on to the next generation. I realized that where I’m from, Northern Ireland, is pathologically secretive. The truth has always been dangerous, you had to be careful if you told someone your surname, or careful if you told them what school you went to; because then they’ll know what side you’re on, and that’s dangerous. So it really kind of startled me and fascinated me how the the micro of the everyday became intense and scary.
I realized that having characters from that place and that sense of being judged and questioned, that can really build a sense of paranoia. You want to just break free from all that and just speak the truth. Ultimately if we don’t speak the truth the past is going to rear its ugly head and it’s going to be so much more toxic and troubling than actually facing it head on. You can bury all you want like Lauren does in the story, she doesn’t want to deal with stuff she buries it, and buries, and buries it, but ultimately it’s going to come out of her. Kelly returning is a catalyst for all that just to pour out of her. I hope that the film can let you get to know these sisters not just as diagnosed illnesses, but incredibly rich, complex individuals with a past and a present. And that people can see that there’s something cathartic about facing your past.
I can’t imagine how strange it’s been going through this whole process without Nika here to speak [Nika McGuigan, one of the films stars, died of cancer whilst Wildfire was in post-production.] What was the process like creating that sisterhood between your two actors? It felt so organic and raw I feel like I’ve lived several lifetimes with those girls, the workshopping was so incredibly close. We even did a residential where we went to Ireland for a week and tried out some of the ideas. You go to really raw, visceral places and as a director you sit back and you’re just in awe of your actors. I really did feel like I lived several lifetimes with them. We all just felt like we were on the crest of something incredibly special. I’ll never forget when I finished the last scene with Nika, she came up to me and she said ”you know, if I never make another film my life, I’ll die happy.” I was like, wow. Again we felt we had done something incredibly unique. When I got into post and [her passing] was so fast, that moment really was something I held on to. I realized like I had something that people would be very lucky to have. I feel incredibly grateful.
Was the film particularly closely scripted? Normally when you start working with funders they want scripts. I was very fortunate that I worked with two amazing producers, Charles Steel and Carlo Cresto-Dina who embraced the process where I said ”I want to research it, I want to build it from the ground up with these two actors.” So we went from a treatment and then from treatment we went to the first draft of the script, and then I workshopped the script with the two actors and went through stages and took notes from our funders. By the time we were shooting we pretty much had a locked off script.
It seems an impossible question but – the film is undercut by the worries about the future for the Irish border – do you feel hopeful about the future for Northern Ireland? What’s so bizarre is when we were making the film five years ago we took for granted that the Good Friday agreement was intact. The Good Friday agreement had seen prisoners released in return for peace; it was a really big part of justice and retribution, and redemption and forgiveness. Now as the film is going out the border is still up for grabs. We don’t know if it’s going to be harder, it’s going to be soft or what side is going to be happy. I’m very nervous about what will happen and I don’t want to take for granted that peace is a given because I think that’s where we get into trouble. I think we need to tread very carefully and there needs to constantly be an open dialogue between all sides. We can’t take for granted that the peace is a given – but I hope it is.