Film reviews round-up: The Girl with All the Gifts, De Palma, Baden Baden

An original twist on the zombie genre, a documentary about one of cinema's most fascinating directors, and a quarter life crisis

The Girl With All The Gifts (15)

★★★☆☆

Dir: Colm McCarthy, 111 mins, starring: Glenn Close, Gemma Arterton, Paddy Considine, Fisayo Akinade, Sennia Nanua, Dominique Tipper

“Christ, look at the creepy little f***ers,” a military guard exclaims early on in British zombie film The Girl With All The Gifts. He is looking at the group of kids in Guantanamo-style orange jumpsuits who, it is hoped, will save humanity. They’re “hybrids” who have the ability to think and feel – but share the zombies’ voracious appetite for human flesh.

This is a creditable addition to the lengthy list of zombie movies that have been made in recent years. One of its strengths is its imaginative production design. It is set in a Britain in the near future in which the country has been ravaged by a strange fungal disease. Much of the action unfolds in London.

Crowds of zombies are standing half-asleep outside Lidl and Pret A Manger stores, waiting to be woken up by a noise or the scent of a human they might eat. What appears to be the Post Office Tower has an almighty beanstalk writhing around it in which the bodies of thousands of zombies have been absorbed.

Melanie (Sennia Nanua) is one of the most precocious of the “hybrids”, an intelligent and sweet-natured young girl, albeit one with very bloody appetites. She is part of a batch of kids being reared in captivity under the control of scientist Dr Caroline Caldwell (Glenn Close in Cruella De Vil/Josef Mengele mode) who hopes they may provide an antidote to the disease.

Gemma Arterton is Helen, the kind-hearted teacher who bonds with the kids and reads them stories from Greek myths. Paddy Considine is one of the soldiers in the camp, guarding the labs. When the zombies invade, the main characters are forced to go on the run.

MR Carey, who wrote the screenplay and the novel on which it is based, has come up with an ingenious story which has a flavour both of George Romero and Quatermass. What the film can’t quite overcome, though, are the clichés of the zombie genre. In its lesser moments, when the zombies (or “hungries”, as they are called) are having their heads blown off or are chasing the heroes, the film strays off into conventional exploitation movie territory. The zombies themselves look like extras with talcum powder and red ink smeared on their faces.

Newcomer Nanua plays the hybrid child in appealing fashion. She looks and behaves like the brightest, kindest girl in the class but the humans around her react as if she is Hannibal Lecter, forcing her to wear a face mask and cuffing her up at every opportunity. Nanua captures well the character’s intelligence and curiosity as well as her dismay at her own carnivorous appetites and her growing suspicion about the motives of the adults.

There is, though, a cloying and incongruous sentimentality to the storytelling, especially in the depiction of the relationship between Melanie and Arterton’s character. The latter will be shooting zombies one moment and acting like a Sunday school teacher the next. Even as it seeks to shock audiences, the film for some reason wants to console them too.

★★★★☆

Dir: Noah Baumbach, Jake Paltrow, 110 mins, featuring Brian De Palma

“Holy mackerel!” Brian De Palma exclaims at various points in this rip-roaring documentary about his life and career. A bearded, larger-than-life character, the 76-year-old American director looks a little like Captain Haddock in Tintin. He is convinced that he is the cinematic descendant of Alfred Hitchcock and it is to his credit that the clips from his own movies shown here stand up so well next to those from Vertigo and North By Northwest.

Directors Noah Baumbach and Jake Paltrow don’t intrude with voiceovers or interviews featuring their subject’s colleagues and friends. This is De Palma’s show. Their attitude toward him is more that of fawning nephews than of critics. He holds forth, taking us through his films in chronological fashion while also sharing sometimes jaw-dropping anecdotes about his family life.

His father was a surgeon – one reason why De Palma is so accustomed to blood (and so unselfconscious about using it in his movies). He knew his father was cheating on his mother and once followed him and confronted him as he met his mistress. Many of his childhood experiences fed into his film work.

The documentary convinces us of De Palma’s logistical and visual flair – his ability to choreograph astonishingly elaborate sequences and his pioneering use of Steadicam. He expresses plenty of frustration but very little self-pity about the various reversals in his career. By his own admission, Bonfire Of The Vanities wasn’t cynical enough. Casualties Of War, one of his most cherished projects, failed to find the audience he felt it deserved. (De Palma has fascinating gossip about the way Sean Penn used to goad Michael J Fox on set in order to enhance Fox’s performance.)

There are colourful stories too about Sean Connery (who didn't like being shot to pieces in The Untouchables) and Robert De Niro, whom De Palma helped discover. De Palma is humorous about the final shootout in Scarface and the way in which the film was later embraced by hip-hop artists. He still seems baffled that Carlito's Way wasn't more warmly received as it was a film he made when he was on top of his game.

As for the accusations of misogyny in his work, he brushes those off. Overall, De Palma gives the impression that he is a director who rolls with the punches. He clearly expects that future generations will recognise the merits of films that contemporary audiences and critics neglected.

Baden Baden (15)

★★★☆☆

Dir: Rachel Lang, 95 mins, starring: Salomé Richard, Claude Gensac, Lazare Gousseau, Swann Arlaud

This charming Belgian film plays at times like an arthouse‎ version of Bridget Jones. Its heroine Ana (Richard) is in her mid-twenties, smokes too much, drinks too much and is struggling to make sense of her life and relationships. Early on, she is working as a driver for a movie and is bawled out by the director (the imposing Sam Louwyck) after she gets hopelessly lost.

Her beloved grandmother is in the hospital and she has volunteered to refurbish the ailing old woman’s bathroom. She commandeers an assistant (a wonderfully lugubrious comic turn from Gousseau) from the DIY store to help her‎ with the task.

Director Lang opts for an impressionistic shooting style, using handheld camera and frequently showing her puzzled heroine in huge close-up. Ana is shown at her most intimate moments. The film deals with sometimes harsh subject matter (bereavement, abortion) but there's a lightness to Lang’s storytelling that is perfectly complemented by‎ Richard’s thoroughly winning performance as the vulnerable but resilient heroine.