Film reviews can often serve as windows to the artistic worlds created by directors, and this week, two noteworthy offerings—How to Make Gravy and Allen Sunshine—provide differing yet engaging viewers' experiences.
Starting with How to Make Gravy, directed by Nick Waterman, this film has been adapted from Paul Kelly's song of the same name. Waterman's interpretation attempts to blend heartfelt storytelling with emotional ties to food, particularly the titular gravy, which symbolizes familial love and the sense of home. The film centers around Joe, played by Daniel Henshall, who reflects on his life from behind bars as he faces his first Christmas without his mother. The setting? A prison cafeteria, where Joe dreams of being back with his family and shares his secret gravy recipe to connect with them.
Grappling with themes of redemption, the film highlights Joe's struggles and the complex relationships he has with his loved ones. Waterman’s vision, though earnest, raises eyebrows with scenes so overly sentimental they may come off as implausible. For example, the portrayals of prison life tend to teeter on the edge of melodrama. There’s one rather peculiar moment when the prison choir performs uplifting music about individuality, leaving many to question how such levity fits within the harsh realities of incarceration.
Critics, like Luke Buckmaster from The Guardian, have emphasized the film's weak initial premise—a narrative culminating from the simplistic notion of gravy as the magic remedy for life's burdens. The effort to juxtapose prison life with heartwarming holiday traditions feels out of place. Once you get past the surface, it seems the film struggles to portray the depth of Joe's character and the validity of his past actions.
It’s important to note Henshall's performance is commendable, considering the screenplay limits his character's potential. The audience witnesses Joe's transformation and his genuine struggles, but the characters around him often lack the emotional bandwidth needed to lend the story much gravitas. The presence of actors like Hugo Weaving, who plays the wise Noel, adds depth, yet even their performances are sometimes overshadowed by the film's propensity for overly sweet sentimentality.
According to Buckmaster, the film evokes reactions similar to eating something quite heavy, contrasting how good gravy should taste against the burden it metaphorically carries. Regardless of its intentions, How to Make Gravy may have inadvertently stumbled over its lofty goal, leaning too heavily on nostalgia and sentiment without adequately justifying them.
Meanwhile, switching gears to another recent film is Allen Sunshine, directed by the much younger Harley Chamandy. This film captures the essence of simplicity and healing through the story of Allen, played by Vincent Leclerc, who is retreating from his past life as a music producer. Set against the serene backdrop of lakeside living, the film presents Allen as someone trying to rediscover peace and solace.
Allen's existence reflects quietude interspersed with rich personal discoveries, making Allen Sunshine feel like a warm embrace. The film tells a gentle tale of friendship blossoming between Allen and local teens, Dustin and Kevin, played by Miles Phoenix Foley and Liam Quiring-Nkindi, respectively. The youth encounter Allen, facilitating connections not just to him but also to his past life with singer Eloise Hayes, who is conspicuously absent from his narrative.
Roads of the past are examined through these interactions, and Allen’s evolution is subtle yet poignant, capturing the audience’s heart. Critically acclaimed for its deft storytelling, Allen Sunshine evokes emotions without unnecessary spectacle. Instead, it navigates slowly through its character’s trials, showcasing healing moments through everyday events—such as teaching Kevin to ride a bike.
Chamandy’s film, described by critics as having “a sense of goodness,” nurtures hope with every scene. The moments shared between the characters are sincere, promising the heartwarming narratives audiences adore. With every frame, the director lets viewers soak up the goodness and serenity of the surroundings, bringing warmth back to their hearts.
This simplicity resonates through Allen's mundane yet meaningful pursuits. You can sense the filmmaker’s confidence, possibly drawing upon the sentiments of his characters to connect with the audience on various levels. The performances feel authentic, advertisement their collaborative work imbues the film with layers of depth and emotional resonance. Even the supporting cast, like Joseph Whitebird who plays Bill, the pie delivery man, manage to leave their fingerprints on the gentle yet uplifting narrative, embodying life’s simplicity.
Both films, each tackling the nuanced themes of connection, redemption, and transformation, reflect the unique challenges faced by their central characters through each cinematic lens. They show how food can be more than sustenance and how relationships can change one’s outlook on life. Whether it’s Joe fighting to reclaim his life through memories of Christmas meals or Allen striving to build bonds with his young neighbors, audiences find themselves contemplating their own connections with family and community.
While How to Make Gravy may have missed its intended mark, leaning too readily on emotional depth to compensate for its narrative shortcomings, Allen Sunshine emerges as a celebration of goodness and simplicity, encouraging viewers to bask in authentic relationships and the beauty found within ordinary moments. Both offer poignant reflections on the human experience, reminding us of the delicacies of life certain experiences surround.
So, whether you gravitate more toward the struggle of Joe with his memories infused with gravy or embrace the positive, simplistic sweetness of Allen’s new life away from the limelight, these films both provide something to chew on for cinematic enthusiasts.
