In the Loop
February 9th 2010 17:15
by Matt Shea
For a career in politics, you either have to be a ravenous, power-hungry sociopath, or a cowardly, ineffective dunce. There’s no middle ground for Armando Iannucci, writer-director of the hit BBC television sitcom, The Thick of It and now that series’ feature length spin-off, In the Loop.
It’s a depiction of politicians peddled plenty of times in recent years, but Iannucci’s contribution to the satire is his focus on the communications representatives who control these men of state. In this world, British cabinet ministers are virtually opinionless automatons, haplessly floating about in a weightless environment until the membrane of intercommunicating media reps and spin-doctors decides to bump them together.
If you’re in any way a follower of British politics, you probably have an inkling as to who a major character in In the Loop is based upon: Peter Calpaldi’s Malcolm Tucker is fine reproduction of infamous communications rep, Alistair Campbell, who is largely regarded as having masterminded the public side of Tony Blair’s new Labour government until his resignation in 2003.
And Capaldi does his political muse proud, cussing, abusing and generally intimidating his way through the entire film. It involves some of the most imaginative profanity you’re ever likely to hear coming out of a cinema surround sound system, and throughout In the Loop Tucker’s quarry scuttle out of his way like snakes from a cane fire.
For every ying there’s a yang, and Tucker’s polar opposite turns out to be Simon Foster (Tom Hollander), the British cabinet minister for international development. Foster is forever mired in baffled inertness, his ability to cut any sort of coherent public presence carefully staged by his own communications representatives.
In the Loop swings between these two characters like a restless trapeze artist, Foster’s benign incompetence persistently juxtaposed with Tucker’s weaselling efficiency. And that’s when the two aren’t together, the communications man gleefully tearing fresh holes in the harried cabinet minister.
It’s a Foster gaff that kicks off the film, as an off-handed radio interview comment that war in the Middle East is ‘unforeseeable’ violently shakes the one-man hornets’ nest that is Malcolm Tucker. Foster is barely back in his own office before Tucker is on the scene, berating and belittling, spitting bile at the minister and anybody else who might dare come within range.
Unfortunately, the press jump on the comment, and before long Foster is trying to undo his own damage by saying to a bunch of waiting reporters that the United Kingdom must always be ‘prepared to climb the mountain of conflict.’ ‘You sound like a Nazi Julie Andrews,’ sneers Tucker.
Foster’s fence sitting draws attention from across the Atlantic and before long he and his strategist, Toby (Chris Addison, acting as the audience’s cipher) are on their way to Washington, the minister the target of both the hawks and the doves as the two sides each try to claim him as one of their own. Cue endless games of smoke and mirrors as the opposing camps of the American debate on war chase each round the boardroom while Foster and Toby stumble about the Capitol Hill corridors of power trying to be noticed, but only so much.
Much of the joy contained within In the Loop – other than the curving, illusive and diabolically delivered dialogue – is seeing each new character appear in the frame, swooping down on Foster in an effort to snare their slab of meat. It quickly draws a feeling of gentle pathos around the minister, his good-natured fumbling leaving him the only sympathetic force in the entire film.
Working in the filmmakers’ favour is the brilliant cast they’ve gathered to play these morally elastic movers and shakers. Capaldi is front-end loaded for maximum effect, his look and demeanour being scarily reminiscent of the real thing, while Mimi Kennedy and David Rasche knock heads beautifully as the leaders of the Washington doves and hawks respectively. James Gandolfini pops up as one of the more sympathetic sorts, playing a peace-supporting Pentagon general, and Paul Higgins has a great turn as Tucker’s carbon copy assistant, smashing a fax machine and driving home the notion that the British government is controlled by froth-mouthed Scotsmen.
Standing out, however, is Tom Hollander. He gives a performance that has him in the midst of the droll perfection inhabited by such performers as Ricky Gervais and Kevin Pollak. Hollander is tiny in stature, but he still carries a quiet, straight-backed charisma – even when playing a hapless political twit who’s coming apart at the seams.
But while In the Loop is blessed with pitch perfect dialogue delivered by Swiss precision performers, it doesn’t fare so well when it comes to the actual story writing or storytelling. Iannucci and co-screenwriters Jesse Armstrong, Simon Blackwell and Tony Roche spent so much time dealing out hip-shooting dialogue that they couldn’t control their twitchy trigger fingers long enough to nail down some of the basic elements of their screenplay.
The simplest problem is one of setting, with the rules of In the Loop’s world never properly set. As an audience, you can’t be sure when the movie is supposed to take place. Is it based on the 2003 invasion of Iraq? That would make sense, but there are a plethora of references that place it in more modern times. If it’s meant to be more contemporary, is it a totally different Middle Eastern conflict that’s being tossed around like a flaming tennis ball? If so, did the second Iraq War ever take place? You end up sitting there, asking yourself these questions and taking yourself out of the experience, rather than just laying back and enjoying the film.
And there’s a whole other batch of nonsensical elements. Characters keep popping up on either side of the Atlantic totally unexplained, usually called upon by the filmmakers to make sure somebody is getting an earful of side-splitting abuse. And a 180 degree turn in British policy can leave you scratching your head also. Satire of this sort is, of course, hewn from real events and true happenings, so when your plot becomes too murky for your audience to follow they quickly become in danger of losing their reference points.
Still, where the plot lacks in providing for character development, the very talented players usually fill in the gaps. It may spin its tale of spin a little too hard at times, but In the Loop is still one of the most enjoyable satires to grace the silver screen in recent years. It’s not as clever as it thinks it is, nor is it as funny, but this is still the best place to see a prime gut punch dished out to the flabby underbelly of British politics.
I say: In some ways an updated version of Yes Minister, this peppery satire is laden with enough good performances and salty dialogue to allow it to leap its own deficiencies.
See it for: It may be hard to get past Capaldi, but Hollander will eventually win you over with a beautifully nuanced performance.
*This image is from Trespass Mag
For a career in politics, you either have to be a ravenous, power-hungry sociopath, or a cowardly, ineffective dunce. There’s no middle ground for Armando Iannucci, writer-director of the hit BBC television sitcom, The Thick of It and now that series’ feature length spin-off, In the Loop.
It’s a depiction of politicians peddled plenty of times in recent years, but Iannucci’s contribution to the satire is his focus on the communications representatives who control these men of state. In this world, British cabinet ministers are virtually opinionless automatons, haplessly floating about in a weightless environment until the membrane of intercommunicating media reps and spin-doctors decides to bump them together.
If you’re in any way a follower of British politics, you probably have an inkling as to who a major character in In the Loop is based upon: Peter Calpaldi’s Malcolm Tucker is fine reproduction of infamous communications rep, Alistair Campbell, who is largely regarded as having masterminded the public side of Tony Blair’s new Labour government until his resignation in 2003.
And Capaldi does his political muse proud, cussing, abusing and generally intimidating his way through the entire film. It involves some of the most imaginative profanity you’re ever likely to hear coming out of a cinema surround sound system, and throughout In the Loop Tucker’s quarry scuttle out of his way like snakes from a cane fire.
For every ying there’s a yang, and Tucker’s polar opposite turns out to be Simon Foster (Tom Hollander), the British cabinet minister for international development. Foster is forever mired in baffled inertness, his ability to cut any sort of coherent public presence carefully staged by his own communications representatives.
In the Loop swings between these two characters like a restless trapeze artist, Foster’s benign incompetence persistently juxtaposed with Tucker’s weaselling efficiency. And that’s when the two aren’t together, the communications man gleefully tearing fresh holes in the harried cabinet minister.
It’s a Foster gaff that kicks off the film, as an off-handed radio interview comment that war in the Middle East is ‘unforeseeable’ violently shakes the one-man hornets’ nest that is Malcolm Tucker. Foster is barely back in his own office before Tucker is on the scene, berating and belittling, spitting bile at the minister and anybody else who might dare come within range.
Unfortunately, the press jump on the comment, and before long Foster is trying to undo his own damage by saying to a bunch of waiting reporters that the United Kingdom must always be ‘prepared to climb the mountain of conflict.’ ‘You sound like a Nazi Julie Andrews,’ sneers Tucker.
Foster’s fence sitting draws attention from across the Atlantic and before long he and his strategist, Toby (Chris Addison, acting as the audience’s cipher) are on their way to Washington, the minister the target of both the hawks and the doves as the two sides each try to claim him as one of their own. Cue endless games of smoke and mirrors as the opposing camps of the American debate on war chase each round the boardroom while Foster and Toby stumble about the Capitol Hill corridors of power trying to be noticed, but only so much.
Much of the joy contained within In the Loop – other than the curving, illusive and diabolically delivered dialogue – is seeing each new character appear in the frame, swooping down on Foster in an effort to snare their slab of meat. It quickly draws a feeling of gentle pathos around the minister, his good-natured fumbling leaving him the only sympathetic force in the entire film.
Working in the filmmakers’ favour is the brilliant cast they’ve gathered to play these morally elastic movers and shakers. Capaldi is front-end loaded for maximum effect, his look and demeanour being scarily reminiscent of the real thing, while Mimi Kennedy and David Rasche knock heads beautifully as the leaders of the Washington doves and hawks respectively. James Gandolfini pops up as one of the more sympathetic sorts, playing a peace-supporting Pentagon general, and Paul Higgins has a great turn as Tucker’s carbon copy assistant, smashing a fax machine and driving home the notion that the British government is controlled by froth-mouthed Scotsmen.
Standing out, however, is Tom Hollander. He gives a performance that has him in the midst of the droll perfection inhabited by such performers as Ricky Gervais and Kevin Pollak. Hollander is tiny in stature, but he still carries a quiet, straight-backed charisma – even when playing a hapless political twit who’s coming apart at the seams.
But while In the Loop is blessed with pitch perfect dialogue delivered by Swiss precision performers, it doesn’t fare so well when it comes to the actual story writing or storytelling. Iannucci and co-screenwriters Jesse Armstrong, Simon Blackwell and Tony Roche spent so much time dealing out hip-shooting dialogue that they couldn’t control their twitchy trigger fingers long enough to nail down some of the basic elements of their screenplay.
The simplest problem is one of setting, with the rules of In the Loop’s world never properly set. As an audience, you can’t be sure when the movie is supposed to take place. Is it based on the 2003 invasion of Iraq? That would make sense, but there are a plethora of references that place it in more modern times. If it’s meant to be more contemporary, is it a totally different Middle Eastern conflict that’s being tossed around like a flaming tennis ball? If so, did the second Iraq War ever take place? You end up sitting there, asking yourself these questions and taking yourself out of the experience, rather than just laying back and enjoying the film.
And there’s a whole other batch of nonsensical elements. Characters keep popping up on either side of the Atlantic totally unexplained, usually called upon by the filmmakers to make sure somebody is getting an earful of side-splitting abuse. And a 180 degree turn in British policy can leave you scratching your head also. Satire of this sort is, of course, hewn from real events and true happenings, so when your plot becomes too murky for your audience to follow they quickly become in danger of losing their reference points.
Still, where the plot lacks in providing for character development, the very talented players usually fill in the gaps. It may spin its tale of spin a little too hard at times, but In the Loop is still one of the most enjoyable satires to grace the silver screen in recent years. It’s not as clever as it thinks it is, nor is it as funny, but this is still the best place to see a prime gut punch dished out to the flabby underbelly of British politics.
I say: In some ways an updated version of Yes Minister, this peppery satire is laden with enough good performances and salty dialogue to allow it to leap its own deficiencies.
See it for: It may be hard to get past Capaldi, but Hollander will eventually win you over with a beautifully nuanced performance.
*This image is from Trespass Mag
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on LOL @ the Sydney French Film Festival
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