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Charles BramescoResume: freelance film & TV critic / often at @guardian @vulture @lwlies / vampire movies book out now / 'a talentless, odious piece of shit' -Roger Stone
- Drama
- directors Giuseppe Capotondi
- Writed by Charles Willeford
- Rating 298 votes
- user Ratings 6,3 of 10 Star
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The Burnt Orange Heresy Reviews Movie Reviews By Reviewer Type All Critics Top Critics All Audience Verified Audience Page 1 of 2 March 19, 2020 Stick with it though, because despite its shortcomings, the strengths of The Burnt Orange Heresy make it worth the slow, burning ride. March 16, 2020 Debicki and Sutherland enjoy a beautiful give and take while Jagger enjoys a sympathy for the one begins to wonder if Bang is simply being typecast as shallow art world figures or if the actor himself is merely glib. March 14, 2020 the main character garners zero sympathy while others, Debicki and Sutherland, get lots, making for a big imbalance. March 13, 2020 Working from a script by Scott B. Smith, director Giuseppe Capotondi shows a confident, unhurried touch, and gets strong work from the small cast. The Burnt Orange Heresy is a simple yet richly illustrated detour to the dark side. This cool thriller is a better escape than watching Contagion on demand for the fourth time. An uncommonly sophisticated crime film, wherein the things that are stolen may not necessarily be objets d'art. The glamorous world of art museums and collectors, the provocative questions it raises, and sharp, witty performances from Sutherland and Jagger make it enticingly watchable. March 12, 2020 Claes Bang and Elizabeth Debicki make for a dashing pair capable of nasty things in this crafty thriller set in the art world. March 11, 2020 Makes for a mostly smart and sexy crime drama, even if it loses steam by the time the ridiculous ending rolls around. March 10, 2020 It has a dark elegance and witty charm while celebrating, in an offbeat way, both the critic and art itself. March 9, 2020 Sizzling spellbinding noir mastery. March 7, 2020 Mick Jagger and a starry international cast including Claes Bang and Elizabeth Debicki deliver an entertaining, sexy, noirish, and feverishly hot european thriller. The Burnt Orange Heresy is a tremendous feature that will excite both sides of the brain. March 6, 2020 Pill-popping art drama explores truth; smoking, cursing. A sardonic examination of how the art world is even more scuzzy than the drug trade with brilliant performances by the four lead actors, especially Mick Jagger. The Burnt Orange Heresy-director Giuseppe Capotondi's adaptation of Charles Willeford's 1971 art-world crime novel-has charisma to burn in the form of its stars. Dazzlingly acted and ingeniously penned by the Oscar-nominated writer of Billy Bob Thornton's must-see noir A Simple Plan, it's like a cross between Hitchcock and The Talented Mr. Ripley. There is certainly something to be said about the role of the critic when one sits down to watch The Burnt Orange Heresy. An adult thriller that skimps on the details, but still piles on enough flash to entertain in its relatively brief run, The Burnt Orange Heresy is more of a pleasing distraction than a deep and meaningful work of art. Page 1 of 2.
The burnt orange heresy watch full game. Career options are in constant flux. Ambitious students who might once have embarked upon an arduous training in neurosurgery can now stream the sound of panpipes, invest in a clutch of jade eggs, and swiftly prosper as wellness consultants. No profession has risen quite so fast, however, as that of intimacy coördinator. It’s a hell of a job. You hang around on movie sets, telling people in various states of undress what they can do to one another, what they mustn’t even think of when they’re doing it, what they definitely can’t do, and, once they’ve not done it, how to treat the nasty case of tennis elbow that they developed along the way. Yet the hardiest intimacy coördinator—armed with a tape measure, a protractor, a magnifying glass, and a copy of Peter Singer’s “ Practical Ethics ”—would struggle, I suspect, with “The Burnt Orange Heresy” and “The Whistlers. ” These two new films have a surprising amount in common. In each case, near the start, a man and a woman have sex. The activity itself is vanilla but vigorous, like a frothing milkshake. But what of the motivations? In “The Burnt Orange Heresy, ” the spent participants, who only just met, lounge around, in ecstasy’s wake, and riff about what comes next. “We’ll move to the States. Connecticut, probably. Buy a house, porch, with a swing and a brook, ” one says. “Babbling, ” the other adds. You can sense that the riffing turns them on, and that they’re almost certainly lying about what brought them to this encounter. As for “The Whistlers, ” the couple isn’t a couple. He’s a cop and she’s a criminal, but they’re in league, and she pretends to be a sex worker, summoned to his apartment, because they’re all too aware of being watched on CCTV by those who wish them ill. In short, what appears to be consensual intimacy, in both movies, is an act of deliberate carnal deceit. Coördinate that. “The Burnt Orange Heresy, ” directed by Giuseppe Capotondi, stars Claes Bang (I’m saying nothing) as an art critic named James Figueras. Though handsomely clean-cut, he’s ragged around the edges in ways that are hard to define; you’d willingly lend him money, but you wouldn’t expect to get it back. We first meet him in Milan, where he’s lecturing to a group of culture buffs—spinning them a yarn about a nonexistent painter and then smoothly reeling them in. They are joined by a latecomer, the elegant Berenice Hollis (Elizabeth Debicki), of no fixed abode. She and Figueras, wasting no time, become firm friends, as detailed above, and he asks her along on his next jaunt: an invitation from a wealthy art collector, Joseph Cassidy, to his villa on Lake Como. Tough gig. Cassidy is played by none other than Mick Jagger, who has graced our feature films all too rarely since he played the reclusive rock star of “ Performance ” (1970), delivering “Memo from Turner” in a crowing drawl, among half-naked gangsters, with Ry Cooder on slide guitar. If Jagger’s character hadn’t been shot at the end of that movie, you could imagine him growing up into the comically rich Maecenas of “The Burnt Orange Heresy”—though not, as yet, growing old. Cassidy is an extraordinary figure: wicked, wrinkled, flute-thin, flawlessly dressed, with a head too big for his frame and a smile too big for his head. The smile suggests a perpetual amusement, as if he were enjoying a joke that is far too private to share. Identifying Figueras as a fellow-knave, Cassidy gives him a delicate sin to commit. The target is Jerome Debney (Donald Sutherland), the Salinger of painters—an object of both reverence and rumor, long vanished from the public eye. In fact, he’s dwelling quietly in the grounds of the villa, and Figueras’s mission, should he choose to accept it, is to steal a Debney, having inveigled himself into the artist’s confidence. What (or, indeed, whether) he has been creating of late is not the point. Cassidy, like all patrons, craves to possess. “The Burnt Orange Heresy” began as a 1971 novel by Charles Willeford: cavalryman, tank commander, poet, boxer, crime writer, and college professor. No bio-pic could contain so thronged a life. “ Miami Blues, ” published in 1984, four years before his death, was adapted into a sharp-witted thriller, with Alec Baldwin and Jennifer Jason Leigh, and I was praying for a repeat with “The Burnt Orange Heresy. ” Everything’s in place, and there’s not a weak link in the cast, with Debicki—lofty, playful, and unreadable—in especially beguiling form. The idea that art, like love, is something that you can make or fake, and that surprisingly few people can tell the difference, will always be ripe for exploration. And yet the movie stumbles. The book was set in Florida, and the prettifying switch to Italy adds languor but subtracts fever; even when the plot speeds up, in the final third, the atmosphere feels more hasty than intense, and the alluring promise of the early scenes, when you couldn’t tell if the hero was fooling the heroine, or vice versa, melts away. They should have stayed in bed. It’s been a while since whistling had a major role in a movie. Admirers of Hitchcock’s “ The 39 Steps ” (1935) will remember the earworm stuck in Robert Donat’s brain—the musical phrase that he couldn’t help whistling, and that returned to him, laden with fresh meaning, at the finale. Then there’s the emotional pick-me-up of “I Whistle a Happy Tune, ” as sung by Deborah Kerr (or, rather, by Marni Nixon, the queen of dubbing), in “The King and I” (1956). Now we have Corneliu Porumboiu’s “The Whistlers, ” the plot of which demands that the characters put their lips together and blow. Much of the tale is set in La Gomera, one of the Canary Islands. La Gomera is the ancient home of El Silbo, the nonverbal idiom by which its inhabitants have traditionally made contact across the island’s gullies and ravines. The component sounds of Spanish words, cut down to two vowels and four consonants, are conveyed by whistling, the trick being to curl your fingers against your mouth with one finger outstretched, as if your hand were a gun. That is how Cristi (Vlad Ivanov), a Romanian visitor to La Gomera, is taught the rudiments of Silbo by an expert, who explains, “If the police hear the language, they will think the birds are singing. ” Pastoral noir! The fact that Cristi is the police only proves what a heap of trouble he’s in. Still, he’s an ideal student of Silbo, being not just a quick learner but a taciturn sort, more likely to clam up than to spill. The less talking you do, in his line of work, the better. But what is that line? There’s no risk of my revealing what happens in Porumboiu’s film, because I remain, as I began, in the dark. All I can tell you is that Cristi’s a bent cop, based in Bucharest, and trying to operate on both sides of the fence. He has a scary superior, Magda (Rodica Lazar), who is battling corruption, although she, too, is prepared to flex the rules. That may be why her office is bugged. The official villains include a money-laundering gangster, Zsolt (Sabin Tambrea), and his girlfriend, Gilda (Catrinel Marlon), the woman who sleeps with Cristi in the interests of untruth. He warms to her, and, at one point, they communicate from afar in Silbo, as though it were a natural language of love. If Cristi were a Rita Hayworth fan, he would recall one of the first principles of cinema: Never, ever fall for anyone named Gilda.
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More than anything, The Burnt Orange Heresy is a throwback to the 1960s and ’70s kind of sexy, noirish, feverishly hot and sophisticated thrillers that mash up exotic European locales with a potent English-speaking cast. Watching it I realized I don’t see this kind of film nearly as much anymore, a smart adult indulgence once more common to world cinema. What was fun about this style of film is that they often took such wild swings they would crash and burn, or go on to become fondly remembered movies that may not have succeeded completely, but certainly were not cut in the mold of studio pictures turned out today. Deadline This film, from Italian director Giuseppe Capotondi and writer Scott Smith (adapting Charles Willeford’s 1971 novel), doesn’t always get the tone right but still lands as a pretty entertaining couple of hours. That is thanks in large part to its international cast including Danish actor Claes Bang ( The Square) and Elizabeth Debicki ( Widows, The Night Manager), who steam up the screen in a series of uninhibited and graphic sex scenes that eventually turn very dark. Set in the Milan and Lake Como areas of Italy, Bang plays James Figueras, an art critic and frustrated artist himself who lectures on the meaning behind some of the world’s more intriguing paintings, even if he clearly selling a lot of bullsh*t. His fake fame is something he will hang on to at all costs. Attending one of those lectures is feisty and alluring American adventuress Berenice Hollis (Debicki), who hooks up with him and in no time flat winds up in his bed. Their scenes together are sizzling until the plot thickens and James is summoned to the mansion of a shady art collector named Joseph Cassidy (Mick Jagger), who reveals that living right in his midst happens to be Jerome Debney (Donald Sutherland), a brilliant, J. D. Salinger-type uber-reclusive artist who has a habit of burning all his works or never letting them out. He believes that if James can steal one it would be worth millions, and thus the effort begins. It isn’t as easy as it might be hoped to be and soon the film is taking a few unexpected twists and turns, as is the evolving relationship between James and Berenice. It wouldn’t be fair to reveal just where all this is heading as these four main characters intertwine, but suffice to say The Burnt Orange Heresy becomes something more in common with a ’40s-style film noir than the sleek and sexy enterprise we saw in the first half. It is here that the balance and tone begins to escape Capotondi’s grasp a bit, and a couple of moments don’t quite add up in the credibility department. However, I was just so taken with the atmosphere and world into which the director invites us that I was willing to go with it at that point. Bang is a very capable leading man, and if you ask me a prime candidate to be the next James Bond — see this film and you will immediately know what I mean. But it is Debicki who steals the acting honors. A completely believable and fresh screen presence, she is terrific in a role where she gets to run the gambit of emotions. Sutherland of course in a cinematic treasure and adds much here as usual. And it is always great to see Jagger on screen in one of his increasingly rare, if brief, film turns. It’s not necessarily a great immersion into character acting because let’s face it, Jagger is Jagger, but he’s lots of fun to watch. The Italian settings are luscious, and with the coronavirus sweeping that nation right now this is probably the closest we will be allowed to the wonders of Italy for the moment. What more can you ask of a movie for smart-thinking adults? I say go! Check out my video review above with scenes from the film. Do you plan to see The Burnt Orange Heresy? Let us know what you think.
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