C.O.O.L.I.O (Paul Cahalane, 2012) - 1 star

The day before going to the C.O.O.L.I.O. premiere at London’s Barbican, a friend asked me what the film was about. I couldn’t answer him then, and now having experienced the film, I still can’t give an informed answer. C.O.O.L.I.O. is writer/director Paul Cahalane’s debut (and hopefully final) feature, a messy love letter to Guy Ritchie, whose contents involve London gangsters, time travel and a complete lack of coherence.

But what makes C.O.O.L.I.O. so unwatchable? Is it its bombardment of uninteresting, undeveloped characters poorly realized by terrible acting? Is it its embarrassingly low production value and technical skill? Or is it its absolute disregard for story and structure?

Clearly a fan of Ritchie’s classics, Cahalane has opted for a brash voiceover to accompany the action, but from the first line to the last, it is unfortunately clear that he wrote (what he thought were snappy) one-liners, which ultimately are not linked to each other thematically, or at all helpful in aiding the plot. At times we are told information that, having suffered through all 150 minutes of the film, now appear redundant or, on the other end of the spectrum, we watch someone mime their emotions while a voiceover tells us exactly how they are feeling; one of the cardinal sins of voiceovers, and the biggest giveaway that a performance has not given the audience enough. When opting for onscreen dialogue, the performances are just not entertaining or well-executed enough for audiences to care about the characters, leaving little incentive to detect a story in the chaos. And when Cahalane’s own imagination ran dry, he simply filled scenes with pre-existing film quotations, from Forrest Gump, Dirty Harry and even Snatch-ing a whole scene from Guy Ritchie!

My lack of attention to the plot here seems to mirror the director’s, in that scenes are not scenes in the traditional sense, but simply brief exchanges, which have little grounding or reason, and seem to have been ordered at random. Almost every moment of action is followed by yet another song accompanied by a poorly stylized and less than pointless music video montage. There is no hint at a three-act structure to say the least, and with a consistent lack of purpose, I found myself assuming (and wanting) each scene to be the last.

 However, there is clearly ambition here. Paul Cahalane, who also produces, films, edits, mixes and scores the film, clearly has a vision: to take the London gangster flick and make it high concept. There is, regrettably, one thing stopping him: he has no idea how to do any of the things listed above. With pictures going from stark black and white to full colour every few seconds for no apparent reason, the aspect ratio similarly fluctuating, and footage from Gran Turismo being edited in, his technical skills disappointingly seem to parallel his creative ones.

The one positive I can draw from this otherwise abysmal feature is that the budget was clearly relatively high, and therefore if this got funding, then there’s hope for us all as film makers! On a final note, a game I played to pass the time during the screening was to hazard a guess at the titular acronym’s meaning. I can only assume this: Cahalane Omni-destructive On Lackluster & Ignorant Ordeal. Answers on a postcard please!

Pinky Cagebirds - 3½ stars

In an imitate theatre space in the heart of Camden, the audience sits anticipating Victor Sobchak’s provocative brothel-based adaptation of David Campton’s Cagebirds. Becky Wingham kicks things off, with a beautiful rendition of Diamonds Are Forever, which forges the way for the rest of the cast to introduce themselves in song. The show stealer early on is Rebecca Westbury’s operatic outburst, but the songful sequence is let down by the strange decision to not allow certain cast members to join in with the singing and instead to use a soundtrack (which the multitasking producer operates from the back of the room.)

As the performance goes on, the six prostitutes, content with their prison-like brothel, come into contact with Ed Sheridan’s The Wilde One who acts like a cat amongst the cagebirds and tries to entice them to step out from their safety and think for themselves. It becomes apparent early on, that while the players may be talented (and they are- a winning combination of singers, dancers and actors, with the overall stand out being Holly Joan Barker’s indecisive Twitting) a lack of direction leaves their characters slightly distanced and under developed. Whilst the decision to make the cage a brothel and transform the birds into prostitutes is a good one, it feels as though the actors have been given this starting point but have taken their characters along the rest of the journey alone and because of this, the levels of birdlike behaviour and sexual reference are varying. While the bird references that are used, such as the fluttering of feather boars and fans with equal excitement and timidity, are subtle but effective, it is slightly disappointing to see that the duality is not taken further with the use masks and elaborate bird-like but similarly erotic costume design. The sexuality in the original piece has been picked up on very well, with non-stop verbal and visual references, the best being Jessica-Lauren Gardner’s seducing of the audience with talk of turtle soup and suet pudding whilst sucking on a lollipop.

However, under developed themes unfortunately do not end with the dichotomy of birds and women of the night. With Jessica-Lauren Gardner and Nicky Burke (both on excellent form) playing Guzzle and Gazer respectively, obvious nods towards Gluttony and Pride, one could be forgiven for reading that each character encapsulates one of the seven deadly sins. But unfortunately not. Whilst it could be a modern day reimagining of them, with gossiping and hypochondria taking the place of the likes of Wrath and Envy, certain characters are simply not given this string to add to their boa.

Do not get me wrong; this is beautifully performed piece by a very talented and exciting ensemble, but their growth is somewhat stunted by a lack of decision making. Luckily for us, it is the characters, and certainly not the actors, that are happy to stay in their comfort zones and afraid to explore things unaided.