A MOVING PICTURE
Burnished melodrama Empire of Light finds a lot of its own light in the darkness
Perhaps the saddest detail in Empire of Light, an alternately dour and uplifting British melodrama, is that it was not shot on old-fashioned celluloid film stock. Writer-director Sam Mendes used Arri's Alexa Mini, a digital system you'd best not speak to unless you want your Amazon assistant to answer.
I mention this technicality because the movie is a love letter to all things cinematic — to the architecture of picture houses, the physicality of film reels and the power of storytelling. It even revels in the ephemeral glimmer of the projector beam, as when projectionist Norman (Toby Jones) objects to patrons smoking in the cinema because it interferes with the display of the moving image. Though ironically, he allows himself the pleasure.
Empire of Light is set in Britain during the early days of the Thatcher era. For those who prefer movies to politicians as a calendar reference, the Empire of the title is playing such new releases as Being There, Stir Crazy, Raging Bull, The Blues Brothers and All that Jazz. It also snags the south-coast première of Chariots of Fire, a big deal for manager Donald Ellis (Colin Firth).
Donald is a fusty operator and not a particularly nice person, cheating on his wife with Hilary (Olivia Colman), the Empire's second-in-command, who has problems enough without having to deal with workplace sexual harassment. An early scene shows her visiting a psychiatrist, and she is muddling her way through life on a diet of lithium pills and quiet desperation.
Things take a turn with new hire Stephen (Micheal Ward), who, despite being about half Hilary's age, sees in her a kindred spirit. She shows him the cinema's upstairs, a dusty, ghosttown copy of the lower level, complete with a disused lobby and two empty screening rooms. (I was reminded of Toronto's Winter Garden theatre, which closed at the start of the sound age and remained shuttered from 1928 to 1989, a time capsule in the heart of the city.) The pigeon-filled aerie soon becomes their go-to location for mid-matinee trysts.
Ward, who had a small but pivotal role in Steve Mcqueen's Small Axe series, brings a fantastic energy to the role of Stephen, who is trying to navigate being Black and British at a time when the country was rocked by race riots and the rise of racist skinhead factions. And Colman is as watchable as always, doing that thing where her mouth stays happy while her eyes indicate an almost bottomless depth of grief. The two strike wonderful sparks from one another.
Mendes's newest has not met with universal acclaim since its Telluride/toronto festival debut, with many critics finding it too maudlin for their liking. I'd argue that you have to submit to its moodiness and pacing, all of it in keeping with the era of its setting.
Sink into it the way one would an old, squishy cinema seat, and there are pleasures to be found. “Find where light in darkness lies,” to borrow a quotation from Love's Labour's Lost that adorns the Empire's interior.
And enjoy the cinematography by 15-time Oscar nominee Roger Deakins. He's shooting in Margate, where once the painter J.M.W. Turner experimented with the same light in a different medium. Regardless of whether it is affixed to canvas, crafted in celluloid or projected as pixels, it glows.