There are two main characters in Writer-Director Sam Mendes' EMPIRE OF LIGHT. The first is Hilary (Olivia Colman) a single 40-something woman. The other is her place of employment, the Empire Cinema in a coastal town in Kent, England. Set in the early 1980s (there are references to STIR CRAZY and CHARIOTS OF FIRE) the grand old theater is in need of upkeep and a makeover. So, too, it soon becomes obvious, does Hilary.
She is in a doctor's care and goes through mood swings, a major one is set off when a handsome young man, Stephen (Micheal Ward) begins working at the movie house. Hilary doesn't hide her desires. Stephen is black which only complicates the emotions.
All of this is inter-cut with a nostalgic look at the Empire Theater itself. The red carpeted lobby. Two huge auditoriums with chandeliers and luxurious curtains. Up in the projection booth Norman (Toby Jones) commands the projectors like a master. During that era, it was all shown of film, of course, and Norman is it's conductor. His little fiefdom. The staff all seem to get along well under the thumb of the oily boss of a theater manager (Colin Firth). Hilary is satisfied running the lobby and doesn't venture inside to watch the actual movies.
Colman is her dependable self navigating the awkward screenplay. There is little flow or cohesion in the story-telling. Ward also acquits himself well, even if one never truly believes in the relationship. Jones is superb in support. It's a fine looking movie with Roger Deakins' cinematography shining through - he is, after all, an Emperor of Light himself.
Mendes has said that this is a paean to the power of the movies. Unfortunately, the unwieldy screenplay subverts his own intentions. The social importance aspect never feels true, and Hilary's problems get swept about like so much spilled popcorn on the theater's floors. The different sections never work together. It's like seeing a double feature of a (mediocre) Merchant Ivory film with an overwrought horror film. They simply don't go together however stately the cinema it takes place in.
She is in a doctor's care and goes through mood swings, a major one is set off when a handsome young man, Stephen (Micheal Ward) begins working at the movie house. Hilary doesn't hide her desires. Stephen is black which only complicates the emotions.
All of this is inter-cut with a nostalgic look at the Empire Theater itself. The red carpeted lobby. Two huge auditoriums with chandeliers and luxurious curtains. Up in the projection booth Norman (Toby Jones) commands the projectors like a master. During that era, it was all shown of film, of course, and Norman is it's conductor. His little fiefdom. The staff all seem to get along well under the thumb of the oily boss of a theater manager (Colin Firth). Hilary is satisfied running the lobby and doesn't venture inside to watch the actual movies.
Colman is her dependable self navigating the awkward screenplay. There is little flow or cohesion in the story-telling. Ward also acquits himself well, even if one never truly believes in the relationship. Jones is superb in support. It's a fine looking movie with Roger Deakins' cinematography shining through - he is, after all, an Emperor of Light himself.
Mendes has said that this is a paean to the power of the movies. Unfortunately, the unwieldy screenplay subverts his own intentions. The social importance aspect never feels true, and Hilary's problems get swept about like so much spilled popcorn on the theater's floors. The different sections never work together. It's like seeing a double feature of a (mediocre) Merchant Ivory film with an overwrought horror film. They simply don't go together however stately the cinema it takes place in.