email print share on Facebook share on Twitter share on LinkedIn share on reddit pin on Pinterest

LONDON 2022

Review: Empire of Light

by 

- British film and theatre director Sam Mendes’ latest is a love letter to “the magic of the movies” and the ways we used to consume them, whilst itself being a poor advertisement for the same

Review: Empire of Light
Micheal Ward and Olivia Colman in Empire of Light

In 1980, the year Empire of Light [+see also:
trailer
film profile
]
takes place, quite a well-known blockbuster called The Empire Strikes Back began its all-conquering run in cinemas. Although the Art Deco picture house that serves as this film’s primary location boasts more adult-enticing work on its marquee – All That Jazz, Gregory’s Girl, Raging Bull – George Lucas’s title for his Star Wars instalment isn’t actually immune to the spirit of Empire of Light, which wants to champion the primacy of the big screen and the communal viewing experience, rescuing it from the fragmentation of our current era. The “empire” striking back is both the bustling local cinema – the pearl of the local high street – and the art form itself, despite all its financial and pandemic-upended travails. But is the language of empire, or imperial dominance, even the best way to frame it?

(The article continues below - Commercial information)
Hot docs EFP inside

Empire of Light, written and directed by Sam Mendes (whose career, following Skyfall [+see also:
film review
trailer
making of
film profile
]
, Spectre [+see also:
trailer
making of
film profile
]
and 1917 [+see also:
film review
trailer
film profile
]
, seems to have arrived at the place many thought it would after American Beauty, his film debut), and freshly screened at the BFI London Film Festival, joins a recent crop of films just a tad too insecurely insistent about the charms of old-fashioned moviegoing and cinephilia. Martin Scorsese, by contrast, puts his money where his mouth is, unafraid of prevailing industry rationale; here, it’s all too vague and windy, and wants for specificity. So much more is communicated by saying we might love Arsenal, as opposed to just “football”; the imagery that Mendes deploys here – the marbled, winding staircases, and misty projection beams – wouldn’t even make especially persuasive advertising, let alone elements of a diverting film. When in-person cinema attendance returned last year after the lockdown, exhibitors’ media campaigns wisely went with supercuts of their coming tentpole attractions, rather than moony tracking shots of sticky carpets.

Mendes’ screenplay – his first solo credit – gets into further trouble as it tries to fold in other issues of contemporary import, although it commences from a valid starting point, in imagining in detail the kind of drama that might unfold amongst a cinema workforce. He binds together young people taking on one of their first permanent jobs with those in management positions, from the proud, if snobby, projectionist Norman (Toby Jones), whose skill binding the reels and timing the changeovers is depicted as a lost art, to the rumpled, sexually abusive manager Mr Ellis (Colin Firth), who finds his Thatcherite-aspirational dreams fulfilled when he lands a regional premiere of Chariots of Fire over the dominant UK-wide Odeon chain. Yet the film’s principal characters, duty manager Hilary (the great Olivia Colman) and her black colleague and later lover Stephen (Micheal Ward, last seen in Steve McQueen’s Lovers Rock), feel devised to stand in for and encapsulate complex ongoing discussions about mental illness and racial discrimination; rather than appearing timely, these characterisations are somewhat shoehorned in, as if Mendes were trying to intuit the present audience’s appetite for these themes, rather than integrate them naturally into his writing.

As said above, there are some on-point wage slave details here: the front-of-house staff’s diplomatic attempts to force a patron to discard his pre-bought food is just one well-observed piece of direction from Mendes, full of the consummately British comedy of social humiliation. But when the movies have provided so many indelible sequences of movie-theatre attendance – from Anna Karina’s Falconetti-aping tears in Vivre Sa Vie to the climax of Inglourious Basterds [+see also:
trailer
film profile
]
– it’s perverse that this film almost exclusively set in one can only sheepishly conjure the wonders they contain.

Empire of Light is a UK-US production staged by Neal Street Productions and Searchlight Pictures. The latter, a subsidiary of Walt Disney Studios, is also the international sales agent.

(The article continues below - Commercial information)

Did you enjoy reading this article? Please subscribe to our newsletter to receive more stories like this directly in your inbox.

Privacy Policy