Empire of Light

Empire of Light (sam Mendes, 2022) review

I read recently about one of those cats in trees telling me to hang in their kind of sites. That memory is not accurate. We don’t have a memory; we just remember the last time we thought about something.

For me, this film makes me ponder that a lot. Specifically in my mind is my mum, who would have been about Olivia Coleman’s age and circumstance at the film’s outset. Set over 12 months, roughly Oct 1980 to Sep 1981, I would have gone from 4 to 5 at the time. My older brother would have been starting big school and coming up to 12—my Parentsnare  their 30’s.

This is the 80s of my cine reels and photos. Brown and beige patterns abound without the hyper-80s that seem to deluge the era when depicted on screen. Smoking in the staff room and rough-hewn hhumoramongst all the workers.

Olivia plays Hilary Small. A disengaged and somewhat detached woman, worn away by her doctor, manager, and past that is initially never described but palpably haunts her present. Her affair with her manager seems more than predatory, as if she feels some need for validation, while denying herself a passionate experience.

The cinema, with its cast of staff and the easy-going conversation between them, feels like a sitcom of the times. It’s reminiscent of an episode of calling the midwife in its sentiment, ent as toby jones aptly describes in one scene, ‘there is darkness between the frames, but the illusion allows us to ignore it.’ But it reflects the role the cinema plays, as respite and refuge, from the darker times around it.

Stephen Sparks Hilary’s emotional emergence. A younger black man is hired for the cinema and has curiosity and confidence about him. One can’t help but be drawn to Michael Ward’s performance. 

The film does border on exposition at times. But that may be apt for some of the audience. There is no remark on Stephen being the team’s only black member, but it reminded me of something my mother told me when she was working in hotels. At the time of the film, my mother would work all hours, overtime was voluntary, and she could often do 50 hours a week and be exhausted, but it means as a cleaner in the hotels, she doubled her pay and had access to many tips working in hotels of Russell Square. With many conversations around workers’ rights and the concepts of privilege, my mother also pointed out that as demanding and demeaning, people sometimes saw her as an Irish cleaner. The hotel she worked at never hired a black cleaner until 1987. Black staff was never hired for public spaces; the only jobs were in the kitchen or laundry. Policies are all well and good. Implementation is another thing entirely.

As the film has throughout the line, the empire is a hub, sanctuary, and place to dream, both on and off the screen. The realities of life and mental health, racism, and brutal attacks on the idea that your dreams can protect you fill the two hours with significant impact and imagery as we see the escalation from #everyday racism or microaggressions and assaults on Stephen for showing pride. The institutional undermining of Hilary that, for the simplest smallest, actions to be empowered by her sexuality rather than objectified, and leading some agency in her being is classed as a threat, and the authorities must intercede.

I loved this film. I loved the way it was, and I loved the elegance. I loved the way it never shied from hardship while never allowing being victimized to create victims of the protagonists. 

The audience applauded, as did I .

Please see this in the cinema. It’s totally fitting. My only regret is I feel some of the sex scenes could be less graphic. Not for their titillation, but I would have preferred that 13 and 14-year-olds could see and learn from this glowing empathy to the times.