I watched this last night, being unable to resist costume dramas, and it was the BBC, so my expectations were pretty high. I though it was excellent, on the whole, though with a few caveats. There seems to be a costume drama template these days - persistent, lush music, long shots of country houses, most of which are surely too grand for their inhabitants, and nice costumes (of course). Productions which diverge from this pattern, such as the recent Bleak House, stand out startlingly, and I wish there was a bit more innovation and imagination. It's as if the 1995 Pride and Prejudice, which was such a stunning success, has redefined cotume drama for ever, and that model has become set in stone.
Anyway, this wasn't bad - I was intrigued and attracted by the casting of Olivia Williams, an actress who I think is shamefully underused. I remember her in Rushmore, and The Sixth Sense, an interesting British presence in these 2 US films, and she's been in several films since, but nothing prominent. I see on the IMDB that she's had 2 children in the last 3 years, so that would explain quite a bit. Maybe she has one of those interesting faces that looks better in middle age, and as I see she's nearly 40 I suspect we may see more from her.
She was excellent, I thought - endowing Jane Austen with wit, character and intelligence. Her sister Cassandra was played by Greta Scacchi - unrecognisable. I didn't realise it was her until I read an article in the paper. She's aged with dignity as well, and it was nice to see a programme with 2 middle-aged, Botox-free women in starring roles.
Both women reinvented their characters for the 21st century, but there's nothing wrong with that, period productions have done it since the dawn of cinematic time. But what's refreshing is to see actresses with intelligence and lack of vanity, making their characters spring to life for us. It's not new, but it's not always the case. It's essential, for period drama to work, that we can believe in the characters, and this production succeeded admirably.
Monday 28 April 2008
Saturday 26 April 2008
Mike Leigh
I've always felt a tad ambivalent towards Mike Leigh's films. I suppose, coming from a working-class background myself, I've sometimes found his portrayals of the working-class life to be patronising, with an undercurrent of nastiness, and plain wrong. Now, I don't know much about his background, except that he's from a Jewish Mancunian family, and that he's even older that me ( a quick look at the IMDB confirms that he's 65), but his work seems to have been part of the landscape in one form or another for as long as I can remember.
Abigail's Party, his 1970s TV play for which he's celebrated - well, I have to say I never found it funny, and thought Alison Steadman's performance was grotesque and a caricature. She repeated it years later in the BBC's Pride and Prejudice (the famous Colin Firth one in 1995) as Mrs Bennett, and I thought Brenda Blethyn played the part much better in the recent film.
Anyway, back to Mike Leigh. I thought Topsy-Turvy and Vera Drake were both wonderful - it's as if making a period film released him from something. They were both warm, humane and engrossing, with marvellous performances from all concerned. They both captured their respective periods perfectly - I took my mother to see Vera Drake and she was deeply moved. I noticed that it was set in November 1950, the month in which I was born, and its recreation of the cramped, dark, spartan, yet warm and convivial lives was almost tangible. My memories of the early 50s are fragmentary, but for her, as a young woman, it would have been like going back in time to see it so perfectly evoked.
So, I went along to see Happy-Go-Lucky, his first film since Vera Drake, buoyed by the largely favourable reviews it received everywhere, though he's usually given a pretty easy ride by the press. I suppose his caricatures of the lower middle classes resonate with metropolitan professionals, as it's the background from which so many of them have escaped. Anyway, although Leigh usually uses cheerful titles ironically, it was refreshingly free of all that, but it was hard to appreciate Poppy, the relentlessly cheerful and optimistic heroine. We see this straight away, as the bike on which she sails breezily round the streets of London, is stolen, and she blithely accepts it, and doesn't even kick the railings to which she'd locked it. She responds to everything with cheerfully sarcastic backchat, which is never funny, just annoying, but you end up sort of liking her, though she'd drive you mad if she was your friend.
It's her acceptance of what life has offered her, and her determination to make the best of things, however unpromising, that does it. She's 30, lives in a cramped rented flat with her friend, and is a primary school teacher, and is clearly in a job she loves. Her energy and enthusiasm is infectious, and you end up wishing there were more people like her around, even if she does drive you up the wall. It's her lack of vanity which does it, and her goodness of heart -
After deciding to have driving lessons before getting a car, she hooks up with grumpy, misanthropic driving instructor, played by Eddie Marsan, who, in typical schematic Leigh fashion, is the polar opposite of Poppy, and puts her in sharp relief.
Another thing I liked was the use of unfashionable parts of London - no Gherkin or Tate Modern - just Finsbury Park, more the London I'm used to; the streets seemed very familiar.
So, a decent Leigh film, in the end, and one I enjoyed. I guess it may be time to revisit his earlier stuff and take another look.
Abigail's Party, his 1970s TV play for which he's celebrated - well, I have to say I never found it funny, and thought Alison Steadman's performance was grotesque and a caricature. She repeated it years later in the BBC's Pride and Prejudice (the famous Colin Firth one in 1995) as Mrs Bennett, and I thought Brenda Blethyn played the part much better in the recent film.
Anyway, back to Mike Leigh. I thought Topsy-Turvy and Vera Drake were both wonderful - it's as if making a period film released him from something. They were both warm, humane and engrossing, with marvellous performances from all concerned. They both captured their respective periods perfectly - I took my mother to see Vera Drake and she was deeply moved. I noticed that it was set in November 1950, the month in which I was born, and its recreation of the cramped, dark, spartan, yet warm and convivial lives was almost tangible. My memories of the early 50s are fragmentary, but for her, as a young woman, it would have been like going back in time to see it so perfectly evoked.
So, I went along to see Happy-Go-Lucky, his first film since Vera Drake, buoyed by the largely favourable reviews it received everywhere, though he's usually given a pretty easy ride by the press. I suppose his caricatures of the lower middle classes resonate with metropolitan professionals, as it's the background from which so many of them have escaped. Anyway, although Leigh usually uses cheerful titles ironically, it was refreshingly free of all that, but it was hard to appreciate Poppy, the relentlessly cheerful and optimistic heroine. We see this straight away, as the bike on which she sails breezily round the streets of London, is stolen, and she blithely accepts it, and doesn't even kick the railings to which she'd locked it. She responds to everything with cheerfully sarcastic backchat, which is never funny, just annoying, but you end up sort of liking her, though she'd drive you mad if she was your friend.
It's her acceptance of what life has offered her, and her determination to make the best of things, however unpromising, that does it. She's 30, lives in a cramped rented flat with her friend, and is a primary school teacher, and is clearly in a job she loves. Her energy and enthusiasm is infectious, and you end up wishing there were more people like her around, even if she does drive you up the wall. It's her lack of vanity which does it, and her goodness of heart -
After deciding to have driving lessons before getting a car, she hooks up with grumpy, misanthropic driving instructor, played by Eddie Marsan, who, in typical schematic Leigh fashion, is the polar opposite of Poppy, and puts her in sharp relief.
Another thing I liked was the use of unfashionable parts of London - no Gherkin or Tate Modern - just Finsbury Park, more the London I'm used to; the streets seemed very familiar.
So, a decent Leigh film, in the end, and one I enjoyed. I guess it may be time to revisit his earlier stuff and take another look.
Tuesday 22 April 2008
The Aviator
I watched The Aviator a couple of nights ago on BBC-2. It was, oh, about the fourth time I'd seen it, but I never need an excuse to see a Scorsese film, and to have on on prime-time telly (not a common occurence) was too good to miss. I'd seen it twice at the cinema and once on TV already, but I still found it as fresh as a daisy.
This film is the one in which one can safely say Leonardo Di Caprio came of age. It's the first one I can think of in which he had to age, playing a fully-fledged adult, and he did it in style. I think it's a fantastic performance, but it received relatively little recognition, as did the film in general, which is pretty normal for Scorsese. OK. he got his Oscar last year, ostensibly for The Departed, but everyone knew it was a rather shamefaced recognition for a lifetime devoted to brilliant film-making. I thought The Departed was fine - comparing it to the good but comparatively run-of-the-mill American Gangster puts it into perspective. it's a far more substantial work. But, Taxi Driver, Goodfellas, Casino, Raging Bull - I could go on, and on and on and on. I watch Goodfellas regularly, just to remind myself that there's no-one to touch Scorsese as a director, just in case I forget momentarily.
Anyway, The Aviator is a tour-de-force - little things, like the way in which Scorsese has filmed each period in Howard Hughes' life in the style of the relevant period. Washy colour for the 20s and 30s, then moving to the more strident technicolor of the 40s. I don't know whether that was Scorsese's idea, but he's very sensitive towards how his films look and would have made it possible.
I loved the justly-famous sequence at the Hepburn house in Connecticut - Katherine Hepburn, in the early days of her affair with Hughes, takes him to meet her large, patrician family at their country house. It's a gruelling experience for him as he endures their rat-a-tat, brittle conversation over the dinner table. Cate Blanchett justly won the best-supporting actress Oscar for her performance as Hepburn, but there are plenty of other superb performers on display in the scene, such as the marvellous Frances Conroy from Six Feet Under as Hepburn's mother. I could go on to list the many people who stand out in the film, often in small but telling parts, such as Danny Huston, Alec Baldwin, and Jude Law, not one of my favourite actors, who plays Errol Flynn, perfectly. (Law peaked, in my opinion, as Dickie Greenleaf, in the late-lamented Anthony Minghella's The Talented Mr Ripley, another criminally-underated film, and hasn't done anything as good since). And of course the peerless Alan Alda as Senator Brewster, and Ian Holm. Plus an appearance from one of my favourite singers, Rufus Wainwright, singing in the Cocoanut Grove. What more could one ask for?
I love hearing Scorsese talk about film - I have a video of his history of American cinema, and I taped his Italian film history when it was on BBC-4 a few years back. He talks passionately and intelligently about cinema and I could listen to him all day. I won't be going to see his latest film Shine a Light - he loves the Stones, but I really can't pay to watch a bunch of sixty-somethings prance aroud the stage. I'll catch it on TV but I'll watch it because its Scorsese. The Stones story is, I suppose, over-familiar for me, stale and uninteresting.
Nevertheless, Scoresese's left a remarkable legacy, and even if he never makes another film again, which isn't going to happen, his films can be watched over and over again. The man loves the medium, and it shows in every frame.
This film is the one in which one can safely say Leonardo Di Caprio came of age. It's the first one I can think of in which he had to age, playing a fully-fledged adult, and he did it in style. I think it's a fantastic performance, but it received relatively little recognition, as did the film in general, which is pretty normal for Scorsese. OK. he got his Oscar last year, ostensibly for The Departed, but everyone knew it was a rather shamefaced recognition for a lifetime devoted to brilliant film-making. I thought The Departed was fine - comparing it to the good but comparatively run-of-the-mill American Gangster puts it into perspective. it's a far more substantial work. But, Taxi Driver, Goodfellas, Casino, Raging Bull - I could go on, and on and on and on. I watch Goodfellas regularly, just to remind myself that there's no-one to touch Scorsese as a director, just in case I forget momentarily.
Anyway, The Aviator is a tour-de-force - little things, like the way in which Scorsese has filmed each period in Howard Hughes' life in the style of the relevant period. Washy colour for the 20s and 30s, then moving to the more strident technicolor of the 40s. I don't know whether that was Scorsese's idea, but he's very sensitive towards how his films look and would have made it possible.
I loved the justly-famous sequence at the Hepburn house in Connecticut - Katherine Hepburn, in the early days of her affair with Hughes, takes him to meet her large, patrician family at their country house. It's a gruelling experience for him as he endures their rat-a-tat, brittle conversation over the dinner table. Cate Blanchett justly won the best-supporting actress Oscar for her performance as Hepburn, but there are plenty of other superb performers on display in the scene, such as the marvellous Frances Conroy from Six Feet Under as Hepburn's mother. I could go on to list the many people who stand out in the film, often in small but telling parts, such as Danny Huston, Alec Baldwin, and Jude Law, not one of my favourite actors, who plays Errol Flynn, perfectly. (Law peaked, in my opinion, as Dickie Greenleaf, in the late-lamented Anthony Minghella's The Talented Mr Ripley, another criminally-underated film, and hasn't done anything as good since). And of course the peerless Alan Alda as Senator Brewster, and Ian Holm. Plus an appearance from one of my favourite singers, Rufus Wainwright, singing in the Cocoanut Grove. What more could one ask for?
I love hearing Scorsese talk about film - I have a video of his history of American cinema, and I taped his Italian film history when it was on BBC-4 a few years back. He talks passionately and intelligently about cinema and I could listen to him all day. I won't be going to see his latest film Shine a Light - he loves the Stones, but I really can't pay to watch a bunch of sixty-somethings prance aroud the stage. I'll catch it on TV but I'll watch it because its Scorsese. The Stones story is, I suppose, over-familiar for me, stale and uninteresting.
Nevertheless, Scoresese's left a remarkable legacy, and even if he never makes another film again, which isn't going to happen, his films can be watched over and over again. The man loves the medium, and it shows in every frame.
Sunday 13 April 2008
Ed Wood
I watched Ed Wood the other night on pay-per-view TV - I'd seen it before quite a while ago, but fancied it again, and anyway, to be honest, I don't need much of an excuse to watch a Johnny Depp/Tim Burton film.
It's a subject ready-made for a film - the story of the least-successful, least regarded film director in cinema history. I'm sure there were plenty of others as bad, but Ed Wood is nearly always singled out, and his Plan 9 From Outer Space regularly tops the charts as worst film ever made.
Wood's exotic personality helped - he was a transvestite, with an absurdly inflated opinion of his own film-making talents, but Depp plays him as one of nature's innocents, with a delightful lack of self-awareness. When confronted with a setback (which happens frequently), he gazes into the middle distance, then a wide-eyed smile lights up his face as he thinks of a solution. He clearly loves film, but has no concept of what makes great cinema. He gazes in wonder and delight as his hopeless actors speak his dreadful lines. He breathes 'cut', imagining that he's just filmed Citizen Kane, as another excruciating scene is shot.
The cross-dressing scenes could have been difficult, but Depp, who of course looks great in women's clothing, rises to the challenge, portraying Wood's penchant for dressing in women's clothing as a response to any difficulty. He simply feels more comfortable dressed as a woman, and it shows. Only an actor with Depp's obvious self-confidence and daring could pull it off. He's shown time and time again that he's not afraid to go that little bit further. He made the hideous Pirates of the Caribbean franchise as successful as it was, putting the hapless Bloom and Knightley firmly in the shade, where they belonged, by giving the character a life of its own.
Anyway, Ed Wood's a delightful chamber piece and well worth catching again. Special mention to Jeffrey Jones - a character actor who's rarely noticed, but who never fails to illuminate a film no matter how insignificant his part. He first came to my notice as the Emperor Joseph II in Amadeus, with his famous 'too many notes' aside during the first performance of Figaro.
Martin Landau won an Oscar for his heartbreakingly affecting performance as Bela Lugosi and the film is littered with gems. I can't praise it too highly - it's a gem!
It's a subject ready-made for a film - the story of the least-successful, least regarded film director in cinema history. I'm sure there were plenty of others as bad, but Ed Wood is nearly always singled out, and his Plan 9 From Outer Space regularly tops the charts as worst film ever made.
Wood's exotic personality helped - he was a transvestite, with an absurdly inflated opinion of his own film-making talents, but Depp plays him as one of nature's innocents, with a delightful lack of self-awareness. When confronted with a setback (which happens frequently), he gazes into the middle distance, then a wide-eyed smile lights up his face as he thinks of a solution. He clearly loves film, but has no concept of what makes great cinema. He gazes in wonder and delight as his hopeless actors speak his dreadful lines. He breathes 'cut', imagining that he's just filmed Citizen Kane, as another excruciating scene is shot.
The cross-dressing scenes could have been difficult, but Depp, who of course looks great in women's clothing, rises to the challenge, portraying Wood's penchant for dressing in women's clothing as a response to any difficulty. He simply feels more comfortable dressed as a woman, and it shows. Only an actor with Depp's obvious self-confidence and daring could pull it off. He's shown time and time again that he's not afraid to go that little bit further. He made the hideous Pirates of the Caribbean franchise as successful as it was, putting the hapless Bloom and Knightley firmly in the shade, where they belonged, by giving the character a life of its own.
Anyway, Ed Wood's a delightful chamber piece and well worth catching again. Special mention to Jeffrey Jones - a character actor who's rarely noticed, but who never fails to illuminate a film no matter how insignificant his part. He first came to my notice as the Emperor Joseph II in Amadeus, with his famous 'too many notes' aside during the first performance of Figaro.
Martin Landau won an Oscar for his heartbreakingly affecting performance as Bela Lugosi and the film is littered with gems. I can't praise it too highly - it's a gem!
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