A Korean American family moves to an Arkansas farm in search of its own American dream. Amidst the challenges of this new life in the strange and rugged Ozarks, they discover the undeniable resilience of family and what really makes a home.
Yearning to own a small patch of land and be more than a chicken sexer, the ambitious paterfamilias, Jacob Yi, relocates his Korean-American family: sceptical wife, Monica, and their children, David and Anne, from California to 1980s rural Arkansas, to start afresh and capture the elusive American Dream. However, new beginnings are always challenging, and to find out what is best for the family, let alone start a 50-acre farm to grow and sell Korean fruits and vegetables, is easier said than done. But, amid sincere promises, cultural unease, fleeting hopes, and the ever-present threat of financial disaster, Jacob is convinced that he has found their own slice of Eden in the rich, dark soil of Arkansas. Can grandma Soonja’s humble but resilient minari help the Yi family figure out their place in the world?
Sensitively written and acted, beautifully shot, and with a charming, sparingly used score, Minari is so engaging that it’s easy to forget how radical it is.
It’s impossible not to appreciate the deep understanding of human behavior, as well as the way that ordinary objects and situations acquire symbolic meaning when we think about them in relation to the characters. This is a lovely, unique film.
1917 is Exminster Film Club’s November 2020 film. As a WW1 regiment assembles to wage war deep in enemy territory, two soldiers are assigned to race against time and deliver a message that will stop men from walking straight into a deadly trap.
At the height of the First World War, two young British soldiers, Schofield (George MacKay) and Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman) are given a seemingly impossible mission. In a race against time, they must cross enemy territory and deliver a message that will stop a deadly attack on hundreds of soldiers—Blake’s own brother among them.
Mendes has made a film that feels wholly alive. It’s a carefully polished picture, not one that strives for gritty realism. But its inherent devotion to life and beauty is part of its power.
Yesterday was Exminster Film Club’s third screening. Struggling musician Jack, realises he’s become the only person on Earth who can remember The Beatles after waking up in an alternate timeline where they never existed.
Yesterday, everyone knew The Beatles. Today, only Jack remembers their songs. He’s about to become a very big deal. From Danny Boyle and Richard Curtis, comes a rock-n-roll comedy about music, dreams, friendship, and the long and winding road that leads to the love of your life. Jack Malik is a struggling singer-songwriter in a tiny English seaside town whose dreams of fame are rapidly fading, despite the fierce devotion and support of his childhood best friend, Ellie. Then, after a freak bus accident during a mysterious global blackout, Jack wakes up to discover that The Beatles have never existed … and he finds himself with a very complicated problem, indeed. Performing songs by the greatest band in history to a world that has never heard them.
After the sombre “Peterloo” shown last month it was time for the sheer joy and escapism of “Yesterday”.
Our audience, ranging from 12 upwards, were treated to the uplifting and heartwarming story of a struggling singer-songwriter, Jack Malik (Himish Patel), who by sheer chance is the only person on earth who remembers the Beatles – or so he thinks.
In his debut film role Patel was endearing and convincing as Jack, doing all his own singing and giving his own twist to some of the most well-known and loved songs in the world. Lily James, as best friend and manager Ellie was as watchable as ever and with real-life husband and wife, Sanjeev Bhaskar and Meera Syal, playing Jack’s parents and a supporting appearance by Ed Sheeran, the film couldn’t fail.
Everyone left smiling!
A glowing tribute to The Beatles and their music, this is both a toe-tapping pleasure to watch and a smart, occasionally scathing look at how we get things wrong.