THE TINDER SWINDLER (Netflix). If a handsome man took you out in his private jet, bought you lavish meals, paid for the best hotels and swore that you were the one he wanted to settle down with you’d be swept off your feet, right? And if after a month he told you his life was in danger and as his enemies could trace his whereabouts through his use of his credit cards you’d take out loans of a few hundred thousand dollars to help him, wouldn’t you? After all you knew for a fact he was a multi-millionaire so it would be absurd to think he wouldn’t pay you back.
These events are exactly what happened to a number of women using the popular dating app and – as the title suggests – the women were very much mistaken.
It’s a horrible story with its antagonist, Israeli-born Shimon Hayut, an incredibly persuasive conman who managed to manipulate a large number of intelligent women into ruining themselves financially. And to add to the horror was the fact that when the story broke legions of online Twitter accounts were often less than sympathetic and quite willing to somehow blame the victims.
Although Hayut is a grade A sociopath it’s hard not to acknowledge he’s great at his job. The documentary shows him after the jig is up and there’s footage of him living in a grubby looking hostel which leads the viewer to think that at least he’s got his just deserts. His imprisonment in Israel for 15 months seems to be the icing on the cake. However, he’s released after only five months and the final few minutes of the film suggest strongly that he’s up to his old tricks again and that a sequel may, unfortunately, be just round the corner.
THE INDIAN TOMB (Eureka Blu-ray). This all-but-forgotten 1921 German silent is, in its own way, quite incredible. The plot is basically a weird fairytale with racist overtones. A Maharajah (Conrad Veidt) digs up a seemingly omnipotent yogi who he uses to complete his fiendish plan to get an English architect to build a tomb for his wife. The fiendish part is that the wife is still very much alive and having an affair with a dashing army officer.
It should be noted that here that Veidt has a tiger pit at his disposal which, when you think about it, is quite a convenient way of getting rid of your wife’s boyfriend. It’s a handsome production with some impressive sets which conjures up a version of India which could only be dreamt up by someone who’d only seen a couple of pictures of it in a magazine. The main Indian parts are played by white actors – which is fine considering the film is a century old – but its view of wily sinister Asians being thwarted by the morally upstanding Europeans probably had eyes rolling even back then.
The stand-out actor by far is Bernhard Goetzke as the yogi whose commanding presence almost makes you believe he has spectral hands which can magically reach through space to commit nefarious deeds. The plot and script are ludicrous beyond belief. This is the kind of film where a woman who thinks that goings-on at the Maharajah’s palace are a bit rum can send a note via carrier pigeon to the German Embassy simply saying ‘Situation here uncanny. Request urgent visit’ and expect instant assistance.
I’m no political expert but it seems unlikely that embassy staff routinely sent out staff to investigate uncanny situations. Its age somehow gives it a romantic aspect; it’s like stumbling across a beautifully produced chlldren’s book from Victorian times: you can admire the artistry and the beauty of its production without getting too hung up on its twisted morality.
THE REAL CHARLIE CHAPLIN (BFI player). As a Chaplin fan I didn’t learn that much more about the finest comic cinema has ever produced, but this is still a throughly engaging movie. It includes plenty of great documentary footage such as Chaplin’s appearances bringing city centres to a complete standstill with tightly knit crowds of people stretching as far as the eye can see.
There’s some staged reconstructions of taped interviews, not only with Chaplin but with an elderly woman who lived near him when he was a child (incredibly, she was talking about events that took place during the reign of Queen Victoria). The film is entirely sympathetic to its subject but doesn’t shy away from his controlling behaviour and his predilection for very young girls. He married his first wife when she was 16 – although the film neglects to mention he started having sex with her when she was 15: a crime which could have seen Chaplin in prison.
There’s a great segment which compares the lives of Chaplin and Hitler (they were born within a few days of each other) and makes the case for ‘The Great Dictator’ being something close to a cosmic inevitability. The sheer craziness of the FBI under J Edgar Hoover is revealed when the agency seems to sincerely believe that Chaplin was homosexual – and, taking the cue from the Nazis themselves, that he was also Jewish.
It’s a whirlwind tour of an incredible life which will almost certainly want to make you reacquaint yourself with his works or have the enviable experience of watching them for the first time.