Inglourious Basterds

Tarantino’s World War II movie – I don’t get it.

The opening to the film is exquisitely shot.  It carries a fantastic level of suspense and emotion that made me think that we were in the realms of greatness.  I was misled.

If anything, the opening to the film is the film’s peak and everything subsequently meanders down hill.

The story of the film, as put out in the media is of a rag tag bunch of men led by Brad Pitt on a marauding crusade into enemy territory with the sole purpose of killing as many Nazis as gruesomely as possible.  And the film is, in part, about that.  But there is a much more interesting story of revenge that begins in that very first sequence that I didn’t feel was adequately explored, as it somehow became second fiddle to the Basterds of the title.

I guess Tarantino has his pick of people to work with and that, it seems, may be his downfall.  There is no doubting that in Christoph Waltz, he has unearthed a gem, but that is far outweighed by the bizarre turn of Brad Pitt and needless cameos.

For some reason Brad Pitt plays his character with a conscious under bite, by which I mean it only seems to appear when he thinks about it needing to be there.  Where Pitt’s good friend George Clooney can excel in the screwball characterisation as a wannabe Clark Gable, Pitt flows and crashes and burns badly.

Mike Myers appears in a pointless cameo and the use of Eli Roth seems questionable at best.

All of this lends the film a boy’s club smugness in the same way that the Ocean films seem more like a gas for the stars than the audience.  So, it comes across as a big laugh-in for the actors, all, except the European trio of Waltz, Bruhl and Laurent, mugging to camera in what seems like an effort to get laughs.

The dark humour and snappy dialogue of Tarantino’s early movies has gone.  To be replaced by laboured dialogue in the style of Tarantino – something we saw enough of in the 90s with the numerous Tarantino-esque efforts.  It felt much like a film student in the late 90’s, wishing to be the next Tarantino, has gone a bit too far for his student film in trying to include snappy dialogue unrelated to the screen imagery…except this is Tarantino and it no student movie.

The film also produces too many nods to Tarantino nerds (if they even exist) with the shootout where you’re not sure how everyone got shot to the use of Harvey Keitel and Samuel  L Jackson as voice cameos and the endless “all the characters looking down to the camera” shots that would have once made it new and exciting.  It now seems a little tired and is definitely too self-congratulatory.

At times the film is beautiful to watch.  The cinematography is immense and one thing Tarantino does still manage to do to a high standard is choose his music well.  The film covers a range of music that is often used in other film first, but does not look out of place here.

The audience, however, seemed to be tuned into the humour and the style much more than me.  There were laughs and guffaws as Pitt stuck out his chin and I had the general feeling that everyone was really enjoying the show.  So, perhaps it was me.  Perhaps I was not in the mood for it or perhaps I just didn’t get it.  But from the opening sequence that, to me, showed so much promise and, more importantly, showed what Tarantino is capable of, the rest became a damp squib (many of which were used throughout, as you can imagine).

Mesrine: Public Enemy No. 1

The second part to the epic story of France’s most renowned gangster, Jacques Mesrine.

Where the first film follows a reasonable story arch, but remains episodic, this film seems to abandon the narrative and instead jumps through the remaining years of Mesrine’s career and life.  It reminded me a little of reading a biography; which, of course, it probably should.  However, it reminded me of reading a biography that I got bored of, i.e. I start reading it intently and then flick to the bits I’m really interested in from about half way onwards.

The episodic film that worked so well in the first instalment became more similar to a sketch or clip show.  I guess, at having established the character there was little more to show, other than a particularly lazy interview sequence.  By lazy, I mean that having the lead character get asked a series of questions, it meant the film did not have to show anything more than that.  In the first instalment, I felt that no such sequence was necessary, as the film showed a subtle enough touch to provide the audience with information without having it delivered straight to them.

Cassel was as engaging as ever, although I did feel that there was little to stretch him in this film.  Although Cassel did show himself to be equally at ease performing comedy, as he is at playing pure rage.  He was ably supported by Mathieu Amalric, with their scenes together bordering on laugh out loud funny.

Dispersed within the comedy sketches are absolutely edge of seat heist, escape and action sequences.  These parts, for me, with their accompanying score made the film.  Without these, it would have seemed a very disjointed effort.

However, one sequence that was really overcooked was the sequence involving Mesrine and his girlfriend leaving their house only to have their car blocked by the police: the first film opened and ended with this sequence, albeit shown in different views and the second film did the same.  The last of which was excruciatingly ponderous and added several minutes onto a film whose story had already been told.

Overall, I felt that I would have been happier sitting in the cinema for 3-4hours watching the first film unfold into a more complete view, than to sit through 2 films of 2 hours that don’t seem to sit quite right next to each other as a single vision.

Mesrine: Killer Instinct

The first part of a two part true story French gangster flick about a gangster I had never heard of.

 What is it with gangsters?  I like watching gangster films and I don’t care what sort of gangsters they are.  Something about the bravado and living the high life seems to appeal and there is always an element of charisma about them.

That’s not to say I wish to be a gangster or to break the law, but the self confidence and the refusal to take shit from anyone attitude is attractive.  But, were I to be placed in a room with a genuine gangster, I’m certain I would be terrified and would want to get out of there ASAP.

 The film opens with Mesrine making a decision whilst in the French army and in Algiers whether to follow his superior’s orders to shoot the wife of a terrorist suspect or to shoot the suspect.  This moment, as well as establishing that Mesrine has the killer instinct of the title, shows us that he is not one for conforming to authority, as he ignores his superior and takes the shot.

 From that point, the film is episodic as it follows Mesrine from petty crime to audacious criminal exploits.  Each episode showcases another aspect to Mesrine’s multi-layered character.  Yet, because they are episodic, some of Mesrine’s character fails to carry over from one to the next.  This presents a fairly schizophrenic view of him which could well be in keeping with his real-life persona.

 However, many of the episodes do provide insights into why this particular person’s journey took this particular route.  Having left the army, Mesrine turns to petty crime with his friend.  This leads him to more serious crime, working for a Parisian crime lord, brilliantly underplayed by Gerard Depardieu.  His personal life also keeps pace with his professional ascension.  He has an ill-fated romance with a prostitute and a holiday romance that becomes a marriage following a sojourn to Spain.  The film also takes the time to illustrate the strained relationship Mesrine had with his parents, in particular his father.  Far from coming from a broken home, Mesrine is clearly from a loving, if conservative, family.  Only Mesrine’s own inner rage, reminiscent of James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause, at his father’s seeming lack of courage rocks that world.

 It is easy to see how Mesrine captured the imaginations of so many.  His charisma, very ably aided by Vincent Cassel’s own screen presence, shines from the screen whether talking his way out of house or defiantly standing up to his brutal treatment when he is finally caught and incarcerated.

 He was imprisoned and brutally treated, following a one man / one woman crime wave across the world and, as part of his escape plan he assured those helping him that he would return to break them out.  It is testament to his stature that they believed him and it is testament to his word that that is exactly what he attempted.  Throughout his return to facilitate the breakout, the film enters the realms of an action movie.

 The exploits of Mesrine left me wondering just how much the makers had embellished, or Mesrine has embellished for that matter – the film is based on his memoir, or did this guy really do these things?

 There is one thing that I do know about Mesrine: I can’t wait to see part two!

Coco Avant Chanel (Coco Before Chanel)

You may be forgiven for thinking that this movie is aimed at connoisseurs of fashion and, in particular, fans of Coco Chanel and her extremely successful and iconic fashion empire.  This would generally be a decent assumption because many biopics are reliant upon an existing fan base with a general understanding of the main character’s history and rise to fame.

 In the case of Coco Avant Chanel, no background reading is required.  I had nothing more than an inkling of some of the famous Chanel looks, let alone any comprehension of who Coco Chanel was or even when she embarked on this business venture that would turn her and her brand into a fashion icon.

 As one might expect from the title, this covers the period of Coco Chanel’s life that led up to the creation of Chanel as a brand.  Ordinarily, this would not seem to be a wise move: think if Ray, Walk the Line, The Doors or even Great Balls of Fire ended once the main characters got their record contracts.  But, in some cases the making of an icon is as much about what made them become an icon rather than merely famous and can stand on its own as a complete piece.

 At the time of watching, I found myself comparing the movie to rock biopics, but with hindsight I find myself reflecting more upon it’s similarities to The Motorcycle Diaries and even, at times, Lust for Life.  Where we see glimpses of the inspired work that would become so famous and the audience is in on it, but the character is oblivious as to just how important what they are doing will become.

 Away from the creation of signature Chanel looks, I found it to be a movie about identity.  It seemed that from Chanel’s upbringing in an orphanage, she developed a defiant non-conformist self.  Which becomes apparent given this is in a period when all other females are trussed up in corsets and Coco is dressed in much more comfortable bespoke adapted menswear.

  But defiance does not make her invulnerable.  Heartache and self doubt are always close at hand throughout.  She learns many lessons along the way and these continue to build the shape of the character that she becomes.

 The film is an absorbing story of love and ambition at a time when aristocracy and family standing were the overriding factors.  From an aspiring performer in saloons with her sister, Coco becomes involved as a sort of live in mistress with a member of the aristocracy and from there begins to make her mark on the lives and fashions of those she encounters.  Ultimately, she finds love and leads the affair on her own terms.

 The movie looks like as much care has been taken with representing the period as Chanel would have spent perfecting a garment.  This attention to detail helps elevate the rags to riches story to one of class and style which so befits the central character’s status within modern fashion history.

 Although I am certainly no Chanel aficionado, I did feel that there were plenty of clues and hints towards the inspiration of Chanel’s signature looks.  And the parade of multiple fashion garments at the end really brings home the range of designs that Chanel created that would generally not look out of place today and certainly the influence is still seen far and wide.

 The film is engaging and Audrey Tautou is exemplary in the lead, but I feel the real show stealer is the overall design to recreate the period.

Antichrist

 This movie seems to be more famous for some particular isolated scenes rather than as a whole movie.

Divided into 4 chapters, the film follows an unnamed couple (“He” played by Willem Defoe and “She” played by Charlotte Gainsbourg), as they go through a grieving process following the death of their son. “He” is a therapist and takes “She” on as his pet project and seeks to help her through the grieving process via a series of sessions that lead them to their isolated cabin in the woods called Eden. It does seem that the therapist is also seeking therapy from the sessions as “He” seems to revel in being the protector and the guide through the wide ranging emotions that “She” goes through.

If I told you anything more about the plot, I think it would most likely ruin it for you. And, as much of the plot is cleverly devised – much more so than other reviewers have given it credit for – it is the style and feel of the movie that really makes watching the film more of an experience. The film is beautifully shot throughout.

The opening prologue is made of up exquisite black and white, slow motion footage of the events that lead to the child’s death. The scenes in and around the cabin in Eden are full of lush green foliage and dark and twisted trees. It seems as though almost every shot in the movie is a composition in itself. Though, this is no pedestrian block footage of scenery. Instead, almost all of the scenes have something going on within them that make you uncomfortable. It is a dark film, with strong undercurrents of doom and dread that is evoked entirely by using varying lenses and a rumbling soundtrack to stop the audience from sitting back too comfortably.

So, when you do reach those dreaded scenes that have grabbed the headlines, they do not come from leftfield. These are not scenes of gore for the sake of a shock; these are the culmination or a step on the path of the journey that these characters are taking. Let us not forget that this is a horror movie. In comparison to other horror movies, the blood and gore count is minuscule, but what it does deliver in blood and gore really hits you. I don’t feel the movie pushes any major boundaries, as it is more of a continuation of a form of movie sex and violence seen in movies such as Base Moi and Irreversible. But, having said that, when you are in the theatre watching it, it does suck you in, chew you up and spit you out which is a sure fire sign that the sex and violence is well placed and used constructively within the confines of the story.

Once the movie ends, it will ensure that you have extremely in depth and revealing discussions with fellow Antichrist viewers. In a similar fashion to Memento and The Usual Suspects, you piece together the clues along the way that got you were you are at the end of the movie.

Watching the movie is an experience…shouldn’t all movies be like that?

The Fixer

Oh, how filmmakers must lament the advancements in make-up and special effects.  No doubt, David Cronenburg watches The Fly and winces at what might have been had CGI been more affective at the time.  Still, unless you are George Lucas and decide to revisit them with the CGI crew, you have to be happy that you made do with what was available at the time.

Oh, how filmmakers must lament the advancements in digitalfilm making.  OK, you get the gist.  Film stocks vary, as do prints and they also have varying shelf lives according to storage and care.  So, a straight to DVD Michael Dudikoff movie will effectively look as good (or bad) in 40 years, as it does now.  Whereas, something like The Fixer, unless the prints are available for remastering, will not have stood the test of time.

The Fixer, an epic story of a Jewish worker (Alan Bates) held captive in a hostile Russian prison for a crime he is innocent of, needs to be viewed through a squint for reasons alluded to above.

Perhaps, TCM has acquired a poor print of the film in a similar way to how Movies 4 Men shows a particularly poor quality version of Fort Apache, when a perfectly good version can be bought on DVD or is shown on other networks.  But, the film quality noticeably changes throughout, from mediocre to poor and back.  At one point a thick line streaked down the right half of the screen. 

As for the effects, well, what I’m really talking about is the make up job on Alan Bates.  I’m sure the best available make-up effects were applied at the time, but they look very dated and the continuity doesn’t help.  Again, I’m really talking about the varying lengths of Alan Bates’s hair.  The film is a bit of a halfway house, as it seems to care about authenticity, yet the makers have made a conscious decision not to get bogged down in forcing actors to pursue authentic Russian accents.

This sort of stuff is superficial really and perhaps we are spoilt these days by having remastered films and high definition available to us so readily.  So rather than literally view through a squint, metaphorically view through a squint to block out or blur the obvious distractions.

At the heart of this film is the story, based upon the novel by Bernard Malamud, set in Russia against the backdrop of the Czars persecution of the Jews.

Yakov Bog is masterfully played by Alan Bates.  He was nominated for an Oscar and it’s easy to see why (incidentally, he lost out to Cliff Robertson).  He carries us on a journey through his initial innocence, his self doubt and self analysis, through to his employment as a non-Jew, where he is wracked with guilt and worries about losing his identity.  Subsequently, following his incarceration, he continues on a journey of self discovery; his failed marriage, his faith, his desire to live.  All the while enduring brutal treatment from the judicial hierarchy.  Throughout this experience, which incidentally transcends the prison walls and sweeps the nation and causes international uproar, his one underlying rule or ethic is one of idealism.  Why shouldn’t he work in the non-Jewish section?  A man’s got to work.  Why shouldn’t he perhaps indulge in a liaison with his employer’s daughter?  A man has desires.   And why should he confess to a crime he did not do to get out of punishment?  A man is innocent until proven guilty.  Even, when, after many years of incarceration and abuse, he is pardoned, he stands upright and says that he cannot be pardoned, as he has not been found guilty, so he will have his day in court.

I’m no philosopher, but this philosophy seems to be one of common sense and it often seems to be the first thing to go when people are in a crisis (in this case the Russian Czar even says that without focusing hatred on the Jews, the focus might shift to the Czar).  But, the shining light for Yakov and the whole Jewish population is that this philosophy is known to everyone to be the best, which is why the authorities became so desperate to break him.  Even one of his guards, sees enough of this to save his life when faced with a homicidal officer.

So when you look beyond the “not so” special effects and the poor quality viewing experience, which can be done with any film, the basic element remains of whether a story is worth telling and whether it is told well.

Il y a longtemps que je t’aime (I’ve loved your for so long)

I don’t know about you, but I think it’s pretty rare to see a film that treats its audience as though they are intelligent people.  Filmmakers who believe we are capable of working out plot nuances and subtle character traits without resorting to explicit explanation either by dialogue or action, therefore, must also be rare.  Therefore, this is a rare film.

I wouldn’t say it is exquisitely filmed, as I found the overall look of the film to be stark and grey.  However, this did serve to subtly highlight a look, a twitch a roll of the eyes that added much weight to the characters involved.  And that in itself was exquisite.

Kristin Scott Thomas plays a woman who, having been released from prison, moves in with her sister.  The film follows her reintegration into “normal” society and the impact she has on those around her.

Now then, Kristin Scott Thomas is British and this is a French film and she plays a French woman.  I had no idea whether Kristin’s accent was authentic or not, as everyone sounded French to me (please excuse my ignorance of varying French accents).  I guess it is noticeable to some, though, as quite early in the film, her character is described as having spent quite a lot of time in England.

Her character moves in with her sister’s family, where she is embraced as the “cool aunt” by the children and with love, affection and normality from her sister and brother-in-law (although furtive glances between them suggest an undercurrent of concern).  She also encounters along the way her parole officer, work colleagues and suitors and touches each of their lives in some way.  Rather than directly influencing them, it’s almost as if her presence affects a self-reflection of all the other characters.

Each character’s interaction with her is underpinned by whether they know or not why she was in prison.  For the most part, when they do know, there is an overreaction to appear, as though it has no bearing on their relationship, although clearly it does.  It so often appears as the white elephant in the room, as people around her exchange glances and gestures as to how to act.  And it is her, the one who is the centre of it all, who is the calming influence.  She is, as best she can be, at peace with what she has done and it is as if it is the others who are embarking on the journey of acceptance of the crime.

In the audience, I joined them on the journey.  The crime committed is revealed slowly enough to allow the audience to figure things out for themselves and in a reflection of the other characters around her; we reassess the relationships in her life based upon this overriding factor.

To call this film a cerebral experience rather than a visual one would perhaps elevate it to a level where it might put people of going.  But the way I see it is this, whodunits and M. Night Shyamalan films have the same creeping awareness of the audience, it’s just that they throw in murder, action and huge plot twists to engage the audience and surprise them.  This film does not carry those moments of impact, but it engages your brain in the same way.

Stevie Wonder – NIA Birmingham

The howling wind and rain surrounding the National Indoor Arena in Birmingham belied the warm glow felt within it’s walls for the “[Stevie] Wonder Summer Night’s Tour”.  To suggest that early October is a Summer night is pushing it a bit, even for the most eccentric promoter, but the feeling inside the arena was not one of being glad to be out of the rain or any thoughts of weather or the poor excuse for British summer.  This night it was all about the music and, I’m sure, for most of the audience, the chance to see a living legend.

“Legend” is banded about and tagged on to numerous people these days, from mediocre pop stars and footballers to TV presenters famed for being particularly useless and many more talentless no-marks beyond.  But do not allow the “Legend” moniker to be devalued by such people when you think of Stevie Wonder.

I’m not going to tell you how many great songs Stevie Wonder has written and performed from his “Little” Stevie Wonder days onwards.  If you want to see his discography to remind you of the hits and the albums, then try his own website or wikipedia.  But I will remind you that Stevie Wonder was 58 on his last birthday (he was signed to Motown at 11).  Which, when thinking of his musical output and influence, is nothing short of astonishing.

But back to the gig:  Unsurprisingly, he was led onto the stage to a raptuous reception and it can be fair to say that he had nothing to prove to the audience nor would it have taken much effort to make people’s nights.  He could have performed a cut down version of his greatest hits and left after an hour and we all would have gone home happy.  Instead, we were treated to almost two and a half hours of glorious music.  Yes, he did many of his hits (even if he had stayed on stage till the early hours, he could not have run through them all).  He opted to play segments of some of them in a bid to squeeze as many in as he could and it also had the desired affect of the audience cheering and applauding with delight when their favourite tracks were played.

What was surprising to me was the amount of music the veered away from the big hits.  The backing band were happy to go along with any musical direction that Stevie led them in, spanning a broad range of musical styles and also a quite magnificent jam where each band member was introduced and had their moment to shine.  For me, the energy and enthusiasm of the band really shone through in that period, as when each band member took up their solo, the others turned towards them to watch, admire and applaud.

Stevie was particularly vocal about getting some crowd participation going and he seemed to revel in hearing the audience singing their hearts out for him.  It was enough for him to do it without making the more cynical amongst us beginning to think that we were doing his job for him.  He also used his opportunity to put his full support behind Borack Obama’s bid to become president – even to the point of getting a crowd of people in Birmingham, England to sing Obama’s name.  If Stevie can exhort that sort of influence over here, I imagine Obama must be a shoe-in back in the States.  He also gave us some homespun advice about the world being one group of people and that all of the boundaries of race, religion, countries, etc shouldn’t detract from the fact that we are all people and that we really should think about that more often.  Wise words, I thought.

So, after he played constantly good music for the best part of two and a half hours, he left the stage to a standing ovation, as he now leaves the UK to head to Australia.  And we returned to a cold, wet and windy night a little bit warmer inside and happy that for years to come we will be able to tell people that we saw Stevie Wonder in concert and that he was great…a legend

Back to life, back to reality

Well, it’s been a while!  I’ve nearly had as much time off from the blog as I had in the USA.

There have been a few reasons for this.  Probably the biggest one is that it’s very difficult to write a travel blog when you’re not actually travelling anywhere.  So, I’ve had a rethink.

Now, I will be writing about anything that I want to, but to put it into some context, I am setting myself up as a freelance writer, writing scripts and reviewing anything that I watch.

The business “Profound Media Ltd” is very much in it’s infancy, but progress is being made and I expect to be contacting various editors with pitches for articles in the near future.  I do not expect to be making a living out of this venture for quite some time.

This week, I am starting a script writing course at the Broadway cinema in Nottingham.  This will give me new impetus with my various working drafts that I keep dipping in and out of.  The main aim is to make a short film next year.

As for reviews, I recently went to see Stevie Wonder, so that review is arriving on these pages shortly and I’m also going to write reviews of anything else that I watch and have the inclination to write about.  Expect plenty of TCM movie reviews for a start.

Back to reality:  I’m starting a new job in a week.  It’s an interesting oppportunity and will add some much needed structure to my day, as well as some much needed money and some much needed mental stimulus that will carry over into my outside work interests.

So, exciting times ahead…I hope!

The Jolly F-

The Jolly F********?

“The Jolly F”, the flowers read across the flowerbeds around the park in Skegness.  The rest of the phrase had been removed.  I wondered, or rather hoped, that the flowers had revolted and somehow managed to change the intentioned “Fisherman” to something much more colourful.

Yes, I was at Skegness on a lovely British Summer’s day!  From the US to Skegness in one week!  And it truly was a lovely British Summer’s day.  So often, the phrase is used to mean “chucking it down”, but it was gloriously sunny weather.

It was a spontaneous invitation from friends that took me to Skegness.  I didn’t need asking twice, as my craving for fish and chips was starting to get out of hand and the thought of fish and chips by the sea was too good to miss.

We took an interesting route to the coast which seemed to bother the others, however I was content to see some British scenery for a change, and we got there about lunch time.  So we headed straight for the fish and chips.  I’d built it up in my mind, so I was expecting to be disappointed…I wasn’t.

OK, they weren’t the greatest I’ve ever had, but as I ate them out in the sun, they dealt me what I was really craving for – an English experience.  And what can be more quintessentially English than fish and chips by the seaside?

And what about Skegness?  Well, what about it?  It has changed a bit, but you can still see everything it has to offer in a few hours.  The seal sanctuary, come butterfly house, come crocodile house, come petting zoo was pretty good.  Obviously, they had to keep adding to the seal sanctuary to entice visitors, but at least you knew your money was going to the right place – although, I have to mention that the solitary crocodile didn’t look very well suited to it’s small indoor enclosure.  The seal keeper (if that’s the right word) also needs to work on her delivery when mic’ed up to tell us about them as she feeds them.  I couldn’t work out if she was genuinely bored or that was just the way she always talked.

We couldn’t believe the weather, so a gentle promenade down the beach, ice-creams melting in hand, was lovely.  I thought it might just be me, what with me being freshly back in the country, but everyone else seemed to be enjoying the sand, sea and sunshine.

So, we’d done fish and chips, ice-cream, beach (complete with very healthy looking donkeys, in stark contrast to the state of them when we were young enough to ride them) and seal sanctuary – which meant all we had left to do was wandering round the shops (still selling the usual tat), go to the amusements (who still wants to win 2p coins?  I was hoping I’d lose because I didn’t want a pocket full of them) and also buy rock/candyfloss/dinky doughnuts (delete as appropriate).

I personally don’t see Skegness as a potential holiday destination, but I can see how some people may wish to stay there to use it as a base for exploring the east coast.  Also, it did get me thinking back to caravan holidays and how much time we spent together as a family, especially if the weather was bad – many good times with board games and the like.  Perhaps the adventurer in me, or the snob (I’m setting myself up for “snob in me” jokes) makes me want to seek out more exotic destinations and it’s true I enjoy seeing far flung places, but it costs.  Maybe the Skegness crowd have got it sussed in the sense of it’s not where you are, but who you’re with?

Whatever makes you a Jolly F******!