Hottoceame The Age of Commercialism

Noutions Good movie, but best of all time? Hardly . . .

Bereamic Awesome Movie

Staci Frederick Blistering performances.

magnuslhad Aaron is the sole survivor of a fishing boat accident that still pains the community. Having lost his brother in the accident, Aaron grieves, but his grief gives way to an increasingly fragile grip on reality. For Those In Peril could have been a myth-imbibed exploration of tragedy and sibling rivalry. It could have been an insightful depiction of unhinged grief. It could have been a story of personal redemption achieved in the face of a hostile community. While it hints at exploring all of these potential story lines, what it ends up being is an under-realised mish-mash that fails to cohere around any thematic, emotional or narrative thread. The film ever-so studiously chases art-house credentials, but invokes clunky genre devices that would make Michael Bay blush. For example, there is no need to wonder what the community makes of Aaron's miraculous survival of the tragedy, as this is relayed constantly in off-screen expositional comments by various bystanders. The cliché scene where someone with a lot on their mind dries up in front of a karaoke audience, so often seen on screen but never in real life, makes a jaded outing here. (Who in real life would ever ask a grieving mother to get on stage and sing karaoke?). You do not have to have spent time in fishing communities such as Ullapool and Shetland to feel the lack of authenticity of setting, though it will jar all the more if you have. Similarly, if you have known grief, Kate Dickie's one-note moping around will not invite empathy. In terms of a mind becoming unhinged, the film does better, with George MacKay's performance occasionally evoking both fear and concern. But these moments are far too few, as the script seems unable to handle the task of developing rounded characters, and falls back instead on lazy invocation of myth to bind the story, what there is of it, together. I am all for eschewing linear narrative in favour of an immersive experience, but none of the imagery is particularly memorable. The climax places its bet on one striking image, but instead that is fudged in an extreme wide shot, suggesting the production design of the model was not up to the job of providing the emotional whump this film requires at its end. Ostensibly bold and experimental, this film instead is tame and unimaginative. Perhaps learning how to handle the basics of simple story, well-told, would have been a better move for these clearly uninspired filmmakers.

Sindre Kaspersen Scottish screenwriter and director Paul Wright's feature film debut which he wrote, premiered in the International Critics' Week section at the 66th Cannes International Film Festival in 2013, was screened in the Michael Powell Award Competition section at the 67th Edinburgh International Film Festival in 2013, was shot on locations in Scotland and is a UK production which was produced by producers Mary Burke and Polly Stokes. It tells the story about a son and brother named Aaron who lives with his mother named Cathy in Gourdon, Aberdeenshire in Scotland. After returning from a fishing boat accident where his brother named Michael and four other men were taken by the sea, the citizens of the community wonders why he doesn't have any memory of what happened and places the blame for the accident on him. Although Aaron becomes alienated, he is convinced that his brother his still alive.Distinctly and acutely directed by Scottish filmmaker Paul Wright, this quietly paced fictional tale which is narrated by the main character and mostly from his viewpoint, draws a heartrendingly reflective portrayal of a sole survivor whom whilst missing his brother hangs on to a childhood story his mother used to tell him and his brother when they got scared, and turns to his brother's girlfriend named Jane whom he thinks is the only one that will believe him. While notable for its naturalistic, distinct and atmospheric milieu depictions, versatile cinematography by cinematographer Benjamin Kracun, production design by production designer Simon Rogers and use of sound, colors and light, this character-driven, monologue-driven and narrative-driven story where a fairy-tale becomes a reality to a person who believes that everything will be fine again if he can bring his brother back, depicts a densely internal study of character and contains a great and timely score by composer Erik Enocksson. This eloquently mysterious, distinguishable and somewhat sociological indie which is set in a coastal village in Scotland in the 21st century and where the one who were not taken by the sea takes on a responsibility for something he isn't responsible for so that things can return to the way they were and a mother stands by her ostracized son, is impelled and reinforced by its fragmented narrative structure, substantial character development, rhythmic continuity, powerful use of music, remarkable use of flashback scenes, humane examination of its central themes, the singular acting performance by English actor George Mackay and the reverent acting performances by Scottish actress Kate Dickie, English actress Nichola Burley and Scottish actor Jordan Young. A resonating and profoundly elegiac audio-visual poem for those in peril at sea which gained the Douglas Hickox Award Paul Wright at the 16th Möet British Independent Film Awards in 2013.

euroGary Thanks to her role in 'Game of Thrones', the biggest name (okay, pretty much the *only* name) in 'For Those in Peril' is Kate Dickie. But she's not the lead: that responsibility falls to the husky young George MacKay. He plays Aaron, the sole survivor of a trawler tragedy which claimed the lives of five other men (one of whom was his brother). The small, close-knit fishing community regard him with suspicion: why did he survive when everyone else died? Only his mother (Dickie, adding to her extensive repertoire of Working-Class-Women-Who-Nobly-Suffer) and his brother's fiancée have kind words to say to him. Gradually, Aaron becomes more and more withdrawn and disturbed. If you think this is the kind of story that can only end in tears, you'll be right, sort of.The film makes much use of home-video footage to show the close relationship of Aaron and his brother, and voice-over vox-pop interviews with the villagers to explain their feelings about his survival. I thought these were clever devices, as they added to the realism of the piece: and there is a very strong sense of realism about the film (even leading man MacKay's acne is not covered with make-up). But that makes the ending such a rude shock: what had seemed to be a portrayal of one man's mental breakdown under unbearable grief and guilt instead veers into fantasy and fairytale. That, I felt, spoiled things.The acting? As I said above, Dickie has played this part several times before, and she does it as well as she ever does. MacKay could perhaps have been a bit less monotone and starey - but hats off to him for the many scenes where he had to swim in what must have been the freezing waters of the North Sea - he should get a medal!

aaronadoty This film seemed to have such promise as it developed, but ultimately that promise was squandered by a fizzler of an ending and many missed opportunities for more interesting storytelling along the way.  As the sole survivor of a boat tragedy, Aaron seemed initially to be unfairly shunned by the other residents of his small Scottish fishing village - but later developments give an inkling into the reason that he attracts such hostility.  Unfortunately, the film takes too long to get there and does nothing with the new narrative turn.  While the decision to leave the boating tragedy completely unexplained may have seemed a good one to the filmmakers, for the audience it just further serves to underline the hollowness at the heart of the narrative.  By taking too long to say too little, the film fails to sustain atmosphere, story or emotion.  Its haphazard use of locations means that it is also unable to sustain a sense of place, with each scene feeling like a separate, dull bead spaced widely along a thin thread of narrative.