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Monday, May 11th, 2009
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2:19 pm - Saturday
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Woof. Intense movie-watching day on Saturday.
Matinee viewing of Star Trek; intense, great summer stuff with some excellent casting and design choices and curious plotting. I hope to write more about it later, and the frustrating sensation of occasionally agreeing with Roger Ebert.
Netflix movie that same night: Notes on a Scandal. Holy crap. Cruel, Funny, intense, and a real feather in Patrick Marber's already quill-covered cap. Also, Judi Dench. Jesus; it's like everyone else isn't even acting. She has to do seventeen different things at the same time in each of her scenes in this movie, and she modulates it perfectly. It's pretty bonkers that she won an Oscar for her 8-minute turn in Shakespeare in Love, and bupkis for this.
Third movie: Rescue Dawn. More intensity. Christian Bale as real life POW Dieter Dengler escaping a Laotian prison camp only to be imprisoned by the jungle. It's a pity to learn about some of the ways some of the real life characters where short-changed in the narrative, but I loved how Herzog doesn't flinch in his detailed portrayal of physical discomfort. Also, Jesus, the things his actors are willing to go through for him; he must be a compelling presence.
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| Thursday, May 7th, 2009
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6:37 pm
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I started this here blog, primarily, to write about movies, and while I haven't exactly done my due diligence over the past couple of years, now would be the time to have a crack at starting it back up again.
It's summer, and over the summer I will be seeing a lot of movies. Not just because the air-conditioned gloom of a cinema is one respite granted my heliophobic carcass during the season but because it's fun: it reignites people's association with the cinema (as in the physical building, not the medium); there's popcorn and lines, and shushing and nonsense. These days it's a barrage of CGI bombast that, in my case at least, forces one to purge the system with the occasional nutritional foreign film or classic that I might have otherwise foregone in the winter.
So, I see a lot of movies over the summer, which according to the cheerleaders over at Fox, officially began with last week's release of X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Given that there's been thousands of gallons of web ink (wink?) spilled over Mr. J.L. McSchnickterson (as indeed there will be about most of the blockbusters I intend to see) I'll keep my observations on the film brief, but not however, spoiler-free.
( Review proper behind the cut.... )
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| Thursday, May 22nd, 2008
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5:09 am - Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
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An Indy 4 review? On the internet? Whatever next? Musical tones for cellular phones?
So basically this:
Make a fairly entertaining 90 minute Indiana Jones movie. Slap 15 minutes of not-so-entertaining Indy Jones stuff on either side. Market liberally.
One more thing- ever-so-slightly-spoilerish, and thus behind the cut ( here: )
current music: Soo Bawlz, Devo
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| Tuesday, June 5th, 2007
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12:16 pm - IMDB thing
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As per calamityjon and ludickid, see if you can guess some of my favourite movies based on IMDB Plot keywords:
1. Father Son Relationship / 1920s / Funeral / Trust / Profanity / Double Cross 2. Forbidden Love / Rose / Love / Beer / Heir / Con Artist / Gambling 3. Social Change / Italian Renaissance / Changing Times / 1870s / Aristocracy 4. Beach / Insurance Agent / Alcoholic / Corpse / New Job / Writer 5. Spy / Dictator / Mythical Kingdom / Political / Satire 6. Battle Of The Sexes / Captive / Execution / Work Ethic / Business / Rolltop Desk / Cop Killer 7. Doughnut / Train / Blanket / Beautiful Woman / Spoiled Brat / Heiress / Hitchhiking 8. Spoof / Outlaw / Sheriff / Mud Wrestling / Brothel / Cannon / Jail 9. Psychopath / Marijuana / Journalist / Police / Suicide Attempt / New York City 10. Suicide Attempt / Beatnik / Opening Narration / Invention / Stocks / Angel / Clock calamityjon
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| Friday, April 6th, 2007
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1:16 pm - Eurovision
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So calamityjon morris recently posted a comment about how dismal Ireland's Eurovision entry was, (and if you require evidence, you can see it here: http://youtube.com/watch?v=Ey_anpj0S0I&mode=related&search=) and its sappy cry for intercontinental unity got me wishing that Shane MacGowan would consider writing a ditty for the competition. And I got to wondering what his entry would be like, and this is what I came up with:
Oh Europa! Well I got drunk in Austria, And smashed in Belarus The wine is fine in Cyprus And the Danish girls are loose In Estonia I was lonelier But in Finland I was 'faced Well there's no corner of the continent That I have not disgraced. Oh Europa! You won't be missed But thanks for all the times that I've been pissed Oh Europa! My ears are ringin'! Won't someone stop these bloody whores from singin'? Oh I've been canned in Deutschland, In Hungary I was stocious, And in Iceland and in Jutland The hangovers were atrocious I was kay-lied in Kazakhstan And langered in Lichtenstein, Got messed up in Montenegro And arseholed on Norwegian wine, Oh Europa! You won't be missed But thanks for all the times that I've been pissed Oh Europa! My ears are ringin'! Won't someone stop these bloody whores from singin'? In Oslo I was blotto And Portugal's a blur, I drank poitin with the English Queen, And Romanians will concur, That in Sweden I was reeling In Turkey drunker still, I drowned my brain in the Ukraine And in the Vatican had my fill Drank all the whiskey in Wicklow, Put the X in Essex too, Though there's no more Yugoslavia, I drank as it fell through I got mighty sick in Zurich And anywhere you can name But don't admonish me Europa It's your music that's to blame. Oh Europa! You won't be missed Though thanks for all the times that I've been pissed Oh Europa! My ears are ringin'! Won't someone stop these bloody whores from singin'?
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| Wednesday, February 7th, 2007
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2:59 pm - Huh.
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'No evidence' of Guantanamo abuse
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/6340457.stm
"An investigation has found no evidence of mistreatment at Guantanamo Bay after some guards allegedly bragged about beating detainees, the US army says...
...Col Bassett carried out 20 interviews with suspects and witnesses, but not with detainees, the Southern Command said, according to AP. "
In related news, an Intergalactic Select Committee, charged with investigating the alleged destruction of Alderaan, is satisfied that no such incident took place. The conclusion was reached after several hours of interviews with top Empire officials, all of whom denied the supposed obliteration. No Alderaans were consulted during the course of the investigation, following several fruitless attempts to find one of the planet's inhabitants.
current music: Movie Star by Cracker
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| Monday, February 20th, 2006
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4:55 pm - I liked the one where he's bald.
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This article reveals Ben Kingsley's penchant for always being referred to as "Sir", and quotes him thusly:
"There is no Mr Ben Kingsley anymore. Being a Sir brings with it responsibility."
Well, he certainly has a point.
current music: none
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| Tuesday, January 31st, 2006
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12:37 pm
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So...Oscars nominees.
Blah de blah de blah.
I have to say there's a great deal less fluff in the final Best Picture Line-Up than I was expecting (I thought Narnia might even have a shot, and Walk the Line- though a good movie- would have been a Biopic Movies are Good Movies cliche). However, I can't shake the feeling that the politically charged nature of noms is to make it easier for Jon Stewart to crack jokes about them.
Also, I picked up Newsweek this morning to discover that they had conducted a roundtable interview with the exact five directors of the five best picture nominees over two weeks ago.
Sure, Newsweek may occasionally fabricate stories about people chucking Korans down the gargler, but apparently their AMPAS mole is rock solid.
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| Tuesday, December 20th, 2005
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2:26 pm
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| Monday, December 12th, 2005
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3:16 pm - Domino Effect
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Okay, I'd heard about this story, and I thought it couldn't get any crazier, but never bet against the Dutch when it comes to the crazy.
I love that the Dutch have a "government freezer". I'd love to know what else is in there. A prehistoric tulip, presumably. Possibly some really old Bagel-Bites. Hitler's Bagel-Bites.
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12:34 pm
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Hey, did you see the cool trailer for Kiss Kiss Bang Bang?
No neither did I. Nor did I see any print, TV or web ads for the thing. The one thing I did see was the movie, and I can't help but lament the fact that studios will break the bank on pushing a piece of (alleged) dreck like Aeon Flux, while highly entertaining popcorn movies like Kiss Kiss are allowed to lapse into obscurity.
Briefly, the film is a darkly comic murder mystery starring Robert Downey Jr. as a petty thief-cum-actor who gets mixed up in a murder plot alongside a homeosexual detective called Gay Perry (Val Kilmer.) To my everlasting chagrin, I didn't get the "Gay Perry" pun until it was spelled out to me in reviews I read after seeing the movie. The movie serves as both a homage to hard boiled noir and a pastiche/gentle parody of the kind of action films that made its writer director Shane Black (scribe of Lethal Weapon, Last Action Hero, etc.) a rich man.
I saw this movie with Suzy, who enjoyed it immensely, but was also surprised by the lack of exposure it received. She wondered if people would like the movie had it been better marketed. I thought the film was hilarious, but I did wonder if perhaps the studio thought audiences would be put off by the film's tongue in cheek style.
And generally I would be too (as indeed, was the maddeningly inconsistent Roger Ebert); I'm not always a fan of movies that try to get away with facile plotting and cliches by drawing attention to them. ("Wow, that stuff normally only happens in movies!") But with Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang, I think the style arises naturally from the main character/narrator. This is someone who for various reasons has grown to distrust both the Hollywood scene, and by extension, films in general. Several characters in the movie have strange relationships with and the promise of glamour and danger portrayed in pulp crime novels. So it feels quiet natural for Robert Downey Jr's character to make ironic comments as the story progresses. Also, Robert Downey makes the character- who manages to be a monumental fuck-up in whatever he turns his hand to: thievery, private dickery, narration- genuinely likable and vulnerable. More than any of his "straight" action pictures Shane Black has invested in the characters, and once the characters work, you can lay on as much postmodern self-mocking whipped cream as you like.
Also, some of the dialogue is truly terrific and I'm a sucker for movies that make you want to recount the good lines in the pub afterwards. Which I did.
Then again, I thought "Last Action Hero" was quite funny (in parts) so what do I know?
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| Friday, June 24th, 2005
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11:12 am
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Just as a filler till I write something decent...
Apparently, Oprah Winfrey is all up in arms about the fact that she was denied entry to a fancy French boutique store called Hermes.
All I can say is....don't shoot the messenger.
Thank you, I'll be here all week.
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| Monday, May 23rd, 2005
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8:11 pm - From his cold dead hands: MAJOR DUNDEE REVIEW
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"Sam is the only person I've ever physically threatened on a set," said Charlton Heston once upon a time. The Sam in question was Peckinpah, and the film was Major Dundee, a lost icon of 1960s westerns, the restored and extended version of which I saw two weeks ago at the Music Box.
Considered an unrealized gem of Peckinpah's filmography, Major Dundee was previously released only in a heavily edited version in 1965 , after Columbia Studio executives had already pulled what was left of “Iron” Sam’s limited budget. Heston had even given up his salary to finance extra scenes, despite the aforementioned threat (which involved charging at the abusive Peckinpah with a cavalry saber).
As to whether the restored version of Dundee is an undiscovered classic of the genre, I’m not sure. Certainly the film is a startling piece of cinematic bravura, and far more complex than is suggested at the outset. The story commences with a fairly standard Searchers-like scenario in which rampaging Apaches conduct a murderous raid on a remote outpost and kidnap two young children . However, Peckinpah quickly spins the tale into a “house-divided-cannot-stand” morality play of megalomania, desperation and mutiny, as the titular Dundee, a demoted U.S. Army general and glorified jail keeper must cobble together a make-shift army if he to is exact violent vengeance on the marauding Chief Chariba, and rescue the children. In doing so he liberates horse-thieves (Warren Oates) and drunks (Slim Pickens) from his jail, and throws them together with a dashing Confederate outlaw (Richard Harris, who steals the movie from Heston) and his reluctant troops. Tensions are further exacerbated when the Dixieland convicts learn they are to give chase alongside several “colored” officers (headed by Brock Peters). Thus, Dundee’s reckless odyssey into Mexico is less about the war between Native American and white-man, or even the U.S. cavalry and the occupying French forces, but his regiment’s internal conflicts and his own doubts about his destructive pride and questionable motives.
Say what you like about Charlton Heston’s personal politics of late (and if you must, bear in mind his involvement in the 60s civil rights movement), I have to admire the path he cut for his movie career after splitting the red sea and winning several chariot races. He went from being the biblical epic’s poster boy to a producing a series of troubled heroic leads, unapologetically (or, if one is unkind, inevitably) portraying each as an insufferable prick (has any major sci-fi action picture had a less likeable protagonist than Heston’s Taylor in Planet of the Apes?).
I should note that Heston does a great job delivering the movie’s best line: “By 11 o’clock tonight I want every man in this regiment to be as drunk as a fiddler’s bitch.” The second best line is James Coburn’s (who plays a tough-as-nails one-armed scout), who advises Heston to stay off the streets of Durango because “you’re not a very likely Mexican”: a reference, no doubt, to the dubious casting of Heston as the a Hispanic narcotics officer in Orson Welles’s Touch of Evil seven years earlier.
Perhaps it was fairly easy for Heston to channel a monomaniacal blow-hard for Dundee, having the example of Peckinpah always at hand. Reportedly Peckinpah was alternately shit-faced and stoned while he free-wheeled most of this movie, and it is tantalizing (if a little lazy) to view the story in the film as the story of the film, as it is with many big-scale, over-budget, auteur disaster/masterpieces- or, if you like, disasterpieces.
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| Thursday, May 12th, 2005
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2:43 pm - Less than we did at the start of the movie: What The *Bleep* Do We Know review
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Last night I accepted an invitation from some friends to sit down and watch What the *Bleep* Do We Know?, the somewhat controversial documentary which attempts to shake viewers out of their comfortable mind-sets and get them to ask some of the bigger questions in life.
One question I couldn't stop asking myself through this scattershot movie (directed collaboratively by William Arntz, Betsy Chasse and Matthew Hoffman) was: "What are these guys trying to sell?" Actually, even before that, as an array of talking heads ran through myriad topics such as quantum physics and (I think) how that relates to emotional states, I wanted to know "Who the heck are youse guys anyhoo?"
One has to wait until the end of the movie to discover the titles and qualifications of the various bods whose scientific and metaphysical musings help elucidate the story of Amanda (Marlee Matlin), whose fictional quest to discover meaning in her messed up life makes up the dramatic portion of this philosophical docudrama. Poor old Amanda, a deaf photographer, is having difficulty: she finds her work as a wedding photographer unrewarding, her room-mate (Elaine Hendrix) a pain in the hypothalamus, she can't get over her cheating ex-husband, and she is prone to anxiety attacks.
The answer to all her (and by extension, our) problems – according to the talking heads- can be found in a better understanding of quantum mechanics, the nature of infinite possibilities, and the way that chemical messengers in our bodies turn us into emotional addicts. The sheer weight of topics addressed, in addition to a fairly entertaining and occasionally very funny illustration of these concepts through Amanda's story, is somewhat compelling- if not very understandable. Rather than trust us to understand any one concept fully, the talking heads instead bombard us with a bunch of "ain't that cool" factoids, upon which they sprinkle a layer of quasi-spiritual mumbo-jumbo.
That said, it's well-spoken mumbo-jumbo, with many of the academics having impressive letters after their name and numerous publications to their credit. Not to mention Ramtha. That's right: Ramtha, the 35,000 year old spirit-warrior (from Atlantis, no-less) who after kicking around the ether for eons decided to channel his essence through J.Z. Knight, a plump fifty-ish kook who bears an unsettling likeness to Hot-Lips Houlihan. This Knight woman is given a good deal of screen time and speaks convincingly but not earth-shatteringly on a number of topics. For instance at one point she tells us that organized religion is prone to abuses of power. "No! Go on! Ramtha- you so crazy!"
Though the movie progresses fairly well it does spend a lot more time on some topics than others, and the point that is being made remains elusive- at least, that is, to me. As for the film's talking-heads/day-in-the-life-drama structure, although the film-makers are excessively smug about it on their website , it's really nothing you haven't seen before on NOVA or BBC documentaries.
I have to agree with Ebert, not in his original review, but in his follow-up – after people had pointed out that some of the science mentioned in the movie was spurious at best and illuminated J.Z. Knight's background a little- that the movie essentially pulls a hoodwink. It starts talking very scientifically, and even makes an interesting case for the link between our chemical and spiritual states, and then before you know it Hot Lips is banging on about holograms and what not. If people really want to start thinking about these topics in depth, this movie may be a good place to start, but if you follow it too closely you may end up spending "hours blindfolded in a cold, muddy, doorless maze." Which is not unlike the experience of watching this movie.
Just one more note, I'd be interested to hear who some of the scientists felt after seeing the movie- to see that their evidence-based work has been lumped in with the fruit-loop ramblings of Knight (sorry, Ramtha). The movie's credits do contain a caveat that say not all the "experts" necessarily agree with the thoughts of the other "experts". Now, that I can believe. Moreover, it is unfortunate that the inclusion of Knight, may for many, negate the weight of what are some interesting questions about the nature of the universe and ourselves.
PS- In fairness, Knight is not the only expert who gave me the willies. Dr. Joe Dispenza, a chiropractor by trade, talks at length about "creating his day" (an aspect of the movie that has caught the attention of many) and "living as a genius" from the comfort of his well appointed cabin in the hills, which reminded me of nothing other than the Lodge from Twin Peaks. Oh, Dr. Joe, you scamp.
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| Wednesday, May 11th, 2005
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5:09 pm - The Holy Bland: Kingdom of Heaven review
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I've always found Ridley Scott's movies soul-less. Don't get me wrong: I'm not saying he's not a good director, it's just that there's always something about his movies that makes me feel that I should be more involved than I actually am- a lack of empathy and recognition at the core of the main characters.
And so it is with Kingdom of Heaven: Scott's magisterial epic dealing with one of the many times the hallowed city of Jerusalem changed hands between warring ideologies. Scott and writer William Monahan frame the conflict in terms of a lowly blacksmith named Balian (Orlando Bloom), who, after losing his wife and his position in a Podunk 12th century backwater, is visited by further contrivances which convince him to follow his long-estranged father (Liam Neeson) on a jolly jaunt to the crusades. Neeson's Godfey is returning to the Kingdom of Heaven, namely Jerusalem, where he believes the leper-king Baldwin is on the verge of creating peace in the region.
As in other Scott movies, I found that I was not greatly interested in the motives, personality and general well-being of the main character. Like Scott's Gladiator, I found I was more intrigued in the supporting characters that the nominal cipher/protagonist who has been chosen as a convenient motivator to briefly essay an exciting period in history. In Scott's gladiatorial blockbuster, Joaquin Phoenix's tortured, incestuous Commodus seemed to be much better cinematic fodder than Crowe's bland Maximus: here too, the story of the leper-king Baldwin, or even the Marshall of Jerusalem Tiberius (well-played by Jeremy Irons) would all have made better subjects for the action of the film. In fact, the film's best character is... Saladin, Islam's reigning military genius of the period, brilliantly and economically played by Ghassan Massoud.
Instead of any of these complex, real-life figures, we are instead treated to the fabricated yet not-terribly-fascinating saga of Balian, who in short order goes from being simple Blacksmith to a knightly paragon of virtue and the only person who can save Jerusalem from the destructive influences of both the advancing armies of Mohammed and the rapacious greed of the Knights Templar, headed by the villainous and two-dimensional Guy De Lusignan (Marton Csokas, by way of Basil Rathbone.) In doing so, Balian must be necessarily become romantically entangled with the King’s sister Sibylla (Eva Green), who is also- wouldncha know it- married to the mean old Guy (boo hiss). While farting around with all this derring do and stock acts of infamy on the parts of the Templars, Scott and co. avoid tackling any of the stickier issues of invading armies, hegemonies and the relationship between occupier and occupied. In truth, the movie's explosive climax does include a laughably desperate attempt to cover all these concerns quickly, via an allegedly moving speech by good knight Balian. All in all, this picture suffers from the same malaise as Gangs of New York: a belief on the part of the moviemakers that audiences will not find the history itself engaging enough, thus necessitating the creation of a supposedly sympathetic main character whose unoriginal story gets in the way of what actually happened. Not that the movie needed to be a documentary, it's just that the fictitious plot elements are not one-tenth as compelling as the context onto which they are crudely plastered.
Throughout the movie we are treated to your standard assortment of impressive battles, all delivered through Ridley Scott's beloved shaky-cam method of action direction- which makes it all but impossible to determine what the heck is going on and gives everyone in the theater a headache. More impressive is the work of the movie's CGI artists, which seamlessly blend in impressive backdrops of the contested heavenly Kingdom itself while all hell breaks loose in the foreground.
A side note to wrap all this up: the movie involves extensive use of trebuchets, the tactical missile of the middle ages. The sight of these nefarious war-machines could not help but put me in mind of TimeLine, the horrendous movie adaptation of the (reportedly) just-as-horrendous Michael Chricton novel, which I had the misfortune to catch in the theater a few years back. I dutifully accompanied some friends of mine, one of who wanted to see it solely because of the inclusion of trebuchets in the TV ads- (I dunno- he had a thing for trebuchets; what can I say?). This alone didn't save the picture of course, but we were at least treated to one of the more unintentionally hilarious turds to come down the cinematic pipeline at that time.
current music: Hounds of Love- The Futureheads
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| Tuesday, December 16th, 2003
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12:40 pm - Jackson beloved!
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Peter Jackson that is. So I'm assuming that tonight would be your first chance (in the states, anyway) to see the final Lord of the Rings movie. Judging from the initial critical reaction, if you don't see this movie then you have no right to eyes, and you are merely flaunting your optical prowess among the eyeless, who would put those gleaming orbs to better use, like, say, going to see Return of the King.
I, not being a Tolkien neophyte (or pseudophyte or phagocyte) am content to wait until the hysteria dies down a bit- or at least, given the ejaculatory excitement of some of the faithful, until they have had a chance to clean the seats off at my local flea-pit.
But see it I must, eventually. Otherwise I will miss the culmination of the greatest act of creation in the history of the universe, one that makes that whole Genesis nonsense look like a slow kid tooling around with Meccano.
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| Thursday, December 11th, 2003
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5:34 pm - If you ask me...
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...the most implausible thing about that Gothika movie was the bit where Halle Berry almost ran someone over in her car and then stopped to render assistance...
current music: Racing Daylight- Kid Silver
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| Friday, December 5th, 2003
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5:49 pm - I've decided...
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...that tomorrow is National Talk Like Sig Ruman Day.
Some choice phrases to pepper with which to pepper your lingo:
"Vot Doss This Mean?"
"Va-aaaaat?"
"So they call me Concentration Camp Ehrhardt? "
Try and get yourself a pointy beard while you're at it...
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