Friday Arts Diary

Our cultural picks for the week ahead.

Art

Bela Kolarova exhibition, 31 Jan – 7 April, Raven Row, London

A retrospective of the work of Czech artists Bela Kolarova (1923-2010). This is the first major survey of her work outside of her home country. Kolarova’s “light drawings” and “derealised portraits” pioneered an art based on objects associated with domesticity and the feminine, rooted in the context of Cold War and exile. The works on display will cover Kolarova’s career, including documentary photographs from the late fifties, camera-less experiments, “arranged” photographs of objects and assemblages from the sixties, as well as make-up drawings and assemblages from the seventies and eighties.

Opera

La Traviata, 2 Feb – 3 March 2013, London Coliseum

Verdi’s masterpiece will be staged at the Coliseum. One of the Verdi’s most moving and popular operas, La Traviata tells the story of a courtesan sacrificing her hopes for her lover’s reputation.

In a new production, acclaimed director Peter Konwitschny uses modern uncluttered staging to present the tragic and moving opera. Compelling characters and famed melodies make this an engaging and emotional performance. Starring American soprano Corinne Winters in her European debut, British lyric tenor Ben Johnson and internationally acclaimed baritone Anthony Michaels-Moore.

Classical Music

One Night in Vienna, 27 January, Royal Festival Hall, London

Johann Strauss Dancers present a combination of Viennese music, song and dance in glorious period costumes. Conductor Rainer Hersch guides performers through Radetzky March, The Blue Danube Waltz, The Laughing Song from Die Fledermaus, Thunder and Lightning Polka, and Voices Of Spring, as well as Tchaikovsky, Lehar and many more. The Johann Strauss Orchestra performs with guest soprano Charlotte Ellett.

Festival

Burns Night Celebrations, 25 January, Edinburgh

“Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!” Wrote the eminent Scot Rabbie Burns in “Address to a Haggis.” If you are in Edinburgh this weekend there myriad opportunities to raise a glass to the poet. According to robertburns.org “Burns Suppers range from stentoriously formal gatherings of esthetes and scholars to uproariously informal rave-ups of drunkards and louts,” so take your pick. The Whiski bar and restaurant in Edinburgh will be hosting an evening of traditional Scottish fiddle music, accompanied by haggis neeps and tatties.

Theatre

Count Magnus: Two Ghost Stories by M R James 05-09 Febuary, The Brewery, Bristol

As if South-West England wasn’t chilling enough, the Nunkie Theatre Company will be bringing ghost stories to Bristol in February. Two short stories by antiquarian ghost story master, Monague Rhodes James will be performed at the Brewery Theatre.

150 years since the birth of M R James, Robert Lloyd Parry will be retelling his stories as a one man show. The first of these tales, Count Magnus, is a thriller set in Sweden about the consequences of travel-writer’s over-inquisitiveness. Denmark is then the setting for Number 13, a tale of a haunted hotel room.

Celebrate the poetry of Robert Burns this Saturday (Getty Images)
Getty
Show Hide image

Will playing a farting corpse allow Daniel Radcliffe to finally shake off his Hogwarts associations?

Radcliffe is dead good in Swiss Army Man – meaning he is both good, and dead. Plus: Deepwater Horizon.

Actors who try to shake off a clean-cut ­image risk looking gimmicky or insincere – think of Julie Andrews going topless in SOB, or Christopher Reeve kissing Michael Caine in Deathtrap. Daniel Radcliffe has tried to put serious distance between himself and Hogwarts in his choice of adult roles, which have included Allen Ginsberg (in Kill Your Darlings) and an FBI agent going undercover as a white supremacist (Imperium), but it is with the macabre new comedy Swiss Army Man that he stands the best chance of success. He’s good in the film. Dead good. He has to be: he’s playing a flatulent corpse in a moderate state of putrefaction. If ever there was a film that you were glad wasn’t made in Odorama, this is it.

The body washes up on an island at the very moment a shipwrecked young man, Hank (Paul Dano), is attempting to hang himself. He scampers over to the corpse, which he nicknames Manny, and realises he could use its abundant gases to propel himself across the ocean. Once they reach another shore and hide out in the woods, Hank discovers all sorts of uses for his new friend. Cranked open, the mouth dispenses endless quantities of water. The teeth are sharp enough to shave with. A spear, pushed deep into Manny’s gullet, can be fired by pressing down on his back, thereby turning him into an effective hunting weapon.

On paper, this litany of weirdness reads like a transparent attempt to manufacture a cult film, if that term still has any currency now that every movie can claim to have a devoted online following. The surprising thing about Swiss Army Man is that it contains a robust emotional centre beneath the morbid tomfoolery. It’s really a buddy movie in which one of the buddies happens to have expired. That doesn’t stop Manny being a surprisingly lively companion. He talks back at his new friend (“Shall I just go back to being dead?” he huffs during an argument), though any bodily movements are controlled by Hank, using a pulley system that transforms Manny into a marionette.

The gist of the film is not hard to grasp. Only by teaching Manny all the things he has forgotten about life and love can the depressed Hank reconnect with his own hope and humanity. This tutelage is glorious: improbably ambitious DIY models, costumes and sets (including a bus constructed from branches and bracken) are put to use in play-acting scenes that recall Michel Gondry at his most inspired. If only the screenplay – by the directors, Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert – didn’t hammer home its meanings laboriously. Manny’s unembarrassed farting becomes a metaphor for all the flaws and failings we need to accept about one another: “Maybe we’re all just ugly and it takes just one person to be OK with that.” And maybe screenwriters could stop spelling out what audiences can understand perfectly well on their own.

What keeps the film focused is the tenderness of the acting. Dano is a daredevil prone to vanishing inside his own eccentricity, while Radcliffe has so few distinguishing features as an actor that he sometimes seems not to be there at all. In Swiss Army Man they meet halfway. Dano is gentler than ever, Radcliffe agreeably deranged. Like all good relationships, it’s a compromise. They make a lovely couple.

What to say about Deepwater Horizon? It’s no disaster as a disaster movie. Focusing on the hows and whys of the most catastrophic accident in US oil drilling history, when an explosion consumed an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico in 2010, it doesn’t stint on blaming BP. Yet it sticks so faithfully to the conventions of the genre – earthy blue-collar hero (Mark Wahlberg), worried wife fretting at home (Kate Hudson), negligent company man (John Malkovich) – that familiarity overrides suspense and outrage.

The effects are boringly spectacular, which is perhaps why the most chilling moment is a tiny detail: a crazed seagull, wings drenched in oil, flapping madly on the deck long before the fires start. As a harbinger of doom, it’s only mildly more disturbing than Malkovich’s strangulated accent. 

Ryan Gilbey is the New Statesman's film critic. He is also the author of It Don't Worry Me (Faber), about 1970s US cinema, and a study of Groundhog Day in the "Modern Classics" series (BFI Publishing). He was named reviewer of the year in the 2007 Press Gazette awards.

This article first appeared in the 29 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, May’s new Tories