Drama a fitting tribute to a legend
Ruth Bader Ginsburg was born and grew up in Brooklyn, New York. She became one of very few women to attend Harvard Law School, edited the Harvard Law Review, graduated first-equal in her year and then went on to, well, change the world.
Next to Jones, Armie Hammer, an actor I have been dismissing as a jawline in search of a personality for far too long now, does good things as Ginsburg’s beloved husband Martin, and Cailee Spaeny (Vice) plays daughter Jane in a role explicitly written to channel Ginsburg’s impact on the world outside and on succeeding generations.
If you have seen RBG (and you should, just to be reminded how historically recent and fragile the rights we take for granted are) then perhaps the thought of seeing On the Basis of Sex seems a little redundant.
At 10am on my only ‘‘day off’’ for the week, there were definitely places I would rather have been. So I’m grateful that On the Basis of Sex did such a warm and likeable job of putting some flesh on the bones of the story.
Mimi Leder (The Peacemaker )– who knows better than most what it takes to persevere in a maledominated industry – directs Jones and co around the track with a very watchable briskness and efficiency, while trusting us to follow the legal battle for gender equality that defined the early part of Ginsburg’s career without us needing to be spoon-fed the facts.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg is a remarkable, unrepeatable human. On the Basis of Sex is an affectionate and overdue tribute to her. Capernaum (M, 121 mins) Directed by Nadine Labaki Reviewed by James Croot ★★★★★
Having already been sentenced to five years imprisonment for stabbing someone, Zain (Zain Al Rafeea) is now back in court.
But this time he’s the plaintiff, attempting to sue his parents ‘‘for giving me life’’.
A shocked courtroom then hears details of how the young Syrian refugee had to persuade pharmacists to fulfil multiple prescriptions for drugs like tramadol, then help crush the pills before peddling the resulting ‘‘special juice’’.
While dutifully carrying out these assignments, Zain is increasingly concerned about the fate of his Sahar (Cedra Izam). The local grocer has shown a disturbing interest in her.
But despite Zain’s best attempts to hide her coming-of-age, Sahar is ‘‘sold’’ to the man as her bride. Outraged, Zain boards a bus in the hope of starting a new life. However, he quickly finds that the streets of Beirut aren’t exactly paved with gold.
Following her heavily symbolic but lighter tales Caramel and Where Do We Go Now?, Lebanese director Nadine Labaki’s third foray behind the camera (she is also one of the film’s five screenwriters) is one of the most compelling and haunting slices of cinema you’re likely to see in 2019.
A kind of cross between Italian neo-realism tales like Bicycle Thieves, the grimy and sometimes grim tales of US auteur Larry Clark (Kids, Bully) and brutal Brazilian favela drama City of God, Capernaum features some stunning performances from its cast of predominantly young novice actors.
A Syrian refugee whose earlier life apparently shared some similarities to his character’s, Al Rafeea is mesmerising as our troubled young ‘‘hero’’ experiencing poverty, privations and adult situations no tween should have to.
Labaki captures it all (including some harrowing decisions) with an unblinking camera which will leave you shaken and stirred. A story strand involving Zain’s encounter with an undocumented Ethiopian woman and her baby is particularly powerful.
A deserved winner of the Jury Prize at last year’s Cannes Film Festival, Capernaum is also in the running for Best Foreign Language Film at this month’s Academy Awards.
Ironically, it’s up against another critically acclaimed ‘‘family drama’’ in the latter, the more highly fancied Japanese entry Shoplifting. But while that’s perhaps a less-challenging watch, Capernaum is the one that leaves a greater emotional impact.