El imperio de la luz

Empire of Light grapples with a lot of different themes and issues but struggles to do them all justice resulting in a mixed bag that at least offers an emotionally investing love letter to the power of cinema that remembers to show the problems of the time.

Olivia Colman gives a great lead performance that plays to her strengths with plenty of incredibly dramatic moments. Micheal Ward is really good with a calmness and earnestness that makes the romance more believable. Toby Jones is excellent in his small part, with a wholesome nature that hides a real sadness.

Despite a muddled screenplay as first time solo screenwriter, Sam Mendes' direction is still technically impressive with Roger Deakin's gorgeous cinematography enhanced by a typically evocative score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross.

Sometimes a movie has all the elements of greatness in place but somehow just can't seem to pull all the pieces together. Such is the case with writer-director Sam Mendes's latest offering, an unfocused mélange of story threads that seem haphazardly strung together in a 1980s period piece love story about the staff of a British resort town cinema infused with elements involving mental illness and growing racial violence and intolerance at the time. Sound like a mishmash of unrelated storylines? You bet, and the picture probably comes off better than it should, given the strengths of Roger Deakins's superb cinematography, Trent Reznor's ethereal score, and the outstanding performances of its ensemble cast, most notably Olivia Colman, a virtual sure-bet for an Oscar nomination. As in other works, such as "Revolutionary Road" (2008), Mendes has a knack for getting the most out of his resources even when the material comes up short, a trick he successfully pulls off again here. It's unfortunate, however, that this obvious lover of film couldn't manage to combine these elements in a way here that matches the brilliance of his truly great works, such as "American Beauty" (1999), "Skyfall" (2012) and "1917" (2019). Had the script gone through another round of revisions, that might have been the case, given that the writing really proves to be the downfall of this offering. For all its strengths, however, "Empire of Light" nevertheless comes up a disappointing effort, one that, regrettably, doesn't live up to the pre-release hype showered upon it.

Empire of Light is such a beautiful piece of cinema, oozing class, poignancy and power.

The story follows Olivia Coleman's Hilary, who forms an unlikely bond with Micheal Ward's Stephen whilst working together at the Empire cinema in Margate.

This style of story is right up my street. A mismatched pair who find solace and comfort in each other. It is beautifully done and packs in so many themes and different angles. I do think that some of the themes are dealt with in a bit of a ham-fisted way, and a bit more refinement would have been welcome but this is a relatively minor criticism. On the whole the story is very well crafted.

The performances are top notch. Olivia Colman really shines and is pushed to the limit by the layers of her character. Micheal Ward is a more than worthy opposite for her with a great leading performance.

With the cinematography in the hands of Roger Deakins the film was always going to be a visual treat. There is a melancholic majesty to the cinema set that Deakins captures which is gorgeous. As always he photographs the characters with such sympathy and feeling.

To top it all off the soundtrack perfectly compliments the themes of the film and brings even more emotion to the piece.

I'm surprised this film isn't getting more love as it really blew me away and has so much power and emotion to it. Empire of Light is a real triumph in my opinion.

Anyone who goes to see "Empire of Light" expecting another cosy movie about the love of cinema, both the medium and the building, will be sadly disappointed since Sam Mendes' superb new movie is about so much more. Yes, it's a love letter to all aspects of 'cinema' but it's also about racism and mental illness, lonliness and our ability to connect and it works on all these levels.

The setting is an unnamed town on England's South Coast in the early 1980's and the Picture Palace in question, (the Dreamland Cinema in Margate standing in for the Empire), really is a Picture Palace of the old school, (well, the bits of it that are open to the public are, at least), and Hilary, (an Oscar-worthy Olivia Colman), is the unhappy, lonely and mentally challenged duty manager who has allowed herself to drift into a casual sexual relationship with her married boss, (Colin Firth), and who now finds herself drawn to a new young employee who happens to be black, (Michael Ward, excellent).

Today, even with the age difference between them, this wouldn't be thought of as a problem but this was the early '80's and the National Front were on the march and Mendes' 'romance' doesn't shy away from the racism directed at Ward's character or from Hilary's mental problems. But this isn't a glum picture. Gorgeously photographed by Roger Deakins it is indeed a love letter to the movies and if like me you don't go stir crazy over "Stir Crazy", the joys of "Being There" should draw you in. Beautifully written, (also by Mendes), directed and acted, (as another employee Tom Brooke is also outstanding), this moving and intelligent picture really shouldn't be missed.

At times, it's intimate and intricate. At others, it's strikingly hollow.

Firstly, highest praises must be given to Roger Deakins' lush cinematography and Reznor & Ross's ethereal, atmospheric musical score. Both these elements added such a rich sensory element to the film that elevates the experience high above what's on the page.

Because what's on the page is a disjointed collection of individually compelling pieces.

Olivia Colman and the rest of the cast really do give it their all and bring a great deal of life to their half-baked characters. Nearly all of them have backstory and struggles introduced, but not much, if anything, is ever done with it.

The "story" is made up of runtime-padding dramatic beats that always begin in a very strong manner but are always either resolved without any real struggle or conflict or are abandoned entirely. No consequences are ever seen or felt, and it dampens the impact of the whole film. I felt nothing when the credits rolled.

Also, Colin Firth is woefully miscast as the cinema manager; not because he's bad in the movie, he's great in the movie. But because he has such limited screen time and has such a thankless, undemanding roll. It's far beneath an actor of his calibre and experience. He's tragically under-utilised.

And that's how I would describe just about every element of this film: not bad, but under-utilised.