'Empire of Light' Review: Sam Mendes' Ode to Cinema is an Insincere Drag [TIFF 2022]
SAM MENDES’ autobiographical story PORTRAys 1981 ENGLAND THROUGH THE EYES OF A TROUBLED WOMAN WHO WORKS AT A LOCAL CINEMA.
On the 9th of February, 2020, the crowd at the Dolby Theatre in Los Angeles was treated to one of the most satisfying nights in Academy Awards history. The onslaught of surprise wins for Bong Joon-ho and the Parasite team led to a thunderous applause from audiences not only in the Dolby, but at home in living rooms all across the planet. It was a joyous night for cinema, and one that signalled a change in what we can expect from Academy voters going forward. Maybe the Academy has grown more progressive, riskier even, and more welcoming to global cinema. It was a moment in history that will not soon be forgotten. Across the Dolby Theatre that night was one Sam Mendes. A brilliant filmmaker in his own right, who has made countless classics before his well acclaimed 1917, such as Skyfall, Jarhead, and the Academy Award winning film American Beauty. Expectations that Oscar night were high for Mendes’ 1917. It was deemed likely that he would win for his direction, and 1917 was the likely front runner over underdog Parasite. Of course, the latter went onto win the award for best picture, and Bong Joon-ho was also able to win out in a shock victory over Mendes for best direction.
When you get that close to Oscar glory, one has to wonder what’s next? For Sam Mendes, that would be Empire of Light. A film that is the product of a filmmaker who so very clearly wants to win all those big awards he won a little over two decades ago.
Empire of Light follows Hilary Small (played by Olivia Colman), a supervisor at a coastal cinema in England, who suffers from some very intense mental health issues, which have sometimes caused her to miss time from working at the cinema. The film takes a slice of life approach at telling her story. Her life is mundane, aside from working at the cinema, she drones alone in her apartment, often getting drunk on wine and staring sadly into the void. Her slice of life story is much about the people she meets, such as other cinema workers, and the era in which she is living in. The film is set in 1981 England, where race relations are strained and tensions are sometimes high. Through all this Mendes tries to capture the beauty of cinema, and this is very clearly seen through having the film set in a cinema with cinema workers at the core of the group of characters we follow. The film also features Colin Firth, who plays the manager of the cinema, and Michael Ward, who plays a new hire at the cinema, Stephen. Toby Jones, Tom Brooke, and Tanya Moodie also feature in the film in supporting roles, all as workers at the Empire cinema.
Sam Mendes reuniting yet again with legendary cinematographer Roger Deakins is where this film has its highest potential. Their pairings in past films have led to some legendary works. Skyfall and 1917 are both remembered for the work of its director of photography. Deakins’ touch on those Mendes projects are what have immortalized them, and to have them return as a pairing here promised good fortune. The film does look good, and it is maybe Deakins (and Olivia Colman) who hold this misfire together. Unlike their other partnerships however, this film does not fully utilize the potential of Deakins to its full strength. The camera never really becomes a character here like it did in 1917, and the film's palette is never able to hit the gorgeous and satisfying colour contrast that was captured in Skyfall.
Casting Olivia Colman in your film is never a mistake. Her performance here, like in everything else she is in, is wonderful. She is able to flash several different levels and layers of emotion here as she continues to show us why she is one of this generation's very best acting talents. We see her character experience forms of mental health issues, and while the complexities and backstory to her character are never really explored, Colman still delivers the best performance she can with what thin narrative exposition she is given. Her character’s relationship with Stephen (Ward) is an incredibly important aspect of the film as well. Stephen, being new to working at the cinema, is naturally taken by the interest shown towards him by Colman’s character, Hilary. They are an unlikely pairing, and the film sets it up as so, with Hilary being a middle aged white woman, and Stephen being a young, college aged black man. They fall for each other, and this becomes where the heart of the film lies.
The relationship between Hilary and Stephen progresses throughout the film and it opens up the movie to explore different topics, such as racism, and the rise of hate groups in England around the Thatcher era. These issues complicate the relationship between Hilary and Stephen, and they often open up Hilary’s eyes to whole new issues within the country she calls home. The heavy subjects of racism, mental health, and hate groups are all intertwining in this film that is meant to be a love letter to cinema. These topics are too tall a task for Mendes to handle properly, and they often fail in their attempt to move you in any meaningful way. There is a clear disconnect here, and the film’s inability to flesh out its deep narrative topics is a serious problem. None of the deeply emotional moments in the film feel earned, just, or sincere. Events often just happen in this film with little to no direction, and it leads one to assume that many of these big important issues have been shoehorned into the film to make it seem more important than it actually is. Michael Ward does a brilliant job at responding to the script and content he is given, and his performance is the standout among the cast, but the lack of sincerity in the writing makes this film feel not only thin, but also rather dull.
The insincerity continues with the sappy scenes revolving the cinema. An overbearing, albeit sometimes nice, piano infused score, plays as cinema workers pour popcorn, clean the screening rooms, and set up the film reels for the next show. Some may find this endearing, but it comes across as a filmmaker reaching for trophies, and it doesn’t help that the TIFF selection of films this year featured other movies that were billed as tributes to cinema that were just so much better and more touching than this one.
Empire of Light is well acted, well shot, and of course competently constructed. However, it is a hollow film that has very little to actually say. It is consistently insincere in its presentation, and for that it ultimately ends up feeling rather dull.