I've been working my way through a pile of DVDs left here by one of my sons, and finally reached the last one, A Beautiful Mind. I knew about the film, of course; knew it came garlanded with Oscars including a Best Actor for Russell Crowe, but was never tempted to go and see it when it came out.
I was more engrossed by the film than I imagined I would be, but, as with so many Ron Howard films, it's far too long, and ultimately soft-centred. I did, however, find it far more engrossing than I thought I would and was held right up to the end, though I did get impatient in the last half hour, and found myself silently mouthing 'Oh get on with it!'.
The main talking point is Russell Crowe, who is turning into one of our great character actors. It's as if he's saying, I can do anything - bring it on, whatever it is. And he can. He's been completely convincing in everything he's done, from his debut in the masterly LA Confidential, to his wonderful performance in Master & Commander, and, of course, Gladiator. There's much else, The Insider was another high point, and there haven't been many low points, maybe A Year in Provence but we'll draw a veil over that. Anyway, he puts in a creditable effort at capturing John Nash's weirdness. He was a mathematical genius, but this gift came with the burden of paranoid schizophrenia, from which he eventually made a miraculous recovery. Crowe successfullymanages to inhabit his world view and Howard successfully conveys this with his direction, so we don't realise that Paul Bettany, who play his friend and Ed Harris, who is an entirely plausible secret agent, are entirely imaginary. But his world-picture, and his mind, starts to unravel completely as he descends into madness. Crowe conveys this gradual descent and recovery perfectly but the audience realises only gradually that there's something wrong.
The film met with mixed reviews when it was released in spite of being clear Oscar-fodder. Peter Bradshaw in the Guardian slated it (predictably), for being hopelessly at odds with John Nash's real-life persona which is classic Bradshaw. He always misses the point, criticising films for not being realistic. It does have obvious problems, though, and the period detail is hopelessly messy. The hair isn't right for a start - not short enough for the men, and the women's are too casual, not remotely recognisable as a 40s look. The actors try to reproduce the quick-fire snappy delivery of 40s films, but can't do it - they should all be sentenced to watch multiple episodes of Mad Men.
So, an ultimately unsatisfactory film - I felt cross for the missed opportunity. Nash's story is actually more interesting than the one Howard tells. He was a closeted homosexual for a start, and Crowe, good as he tried to be, couldn't ultimately convey Nash's fragility convincingly enough. Inother words, a classic Ron Howard film, soft-centred, and a cop-out,
Showing posts with label films. Show all posts
Showing posts with label films. Show all posts
Sunday, 8 March 2009
Saturday, 7 March 2009
Terminators I & II
I've just been catching up on the first 2 Terminator films in preparation for the impending TIV, or whatever it's going to be called. I was initially sceptical, but then I saw that Christian Bale is going to be playing John Connor, and a) I'll go and see virtually anything CB is in, plus b) I trust Bale's choice of parts - he rarely makes a bad one.
I'd seen both I & II, but a long time ago, so it was an interesting exercise revisiting them as I couldn't really remember them too well. The first thing that struck me was Arnie - he's perfect! But more perfect in the first film, when he's bad Arnie. He's scary, and somehow his unadulterated, implacable evil is more convincing than his warmer, cuddlier righteousness in the second film. T2's enjoyable, though, but you can see the early signs of Cameron overkill. T1 is short and snappy, about 100mins, which is about right, whereas T2, at least in the T2 Special Edition which I borrowed off my son, clocks in at a bloated 2.5 hours and I started to mentally clock off long before the end.
There's a preponderance of special effects, and we're supposed to be amused at AS subverting his role, and the ironic asides. Well, it probably did seem funny when it was released, but now it's a bit tiresome as we've seen so much of this sort of stuff since. The first film doesn't have anything like that at all, and it's the better film for it. I suppose it belongs to Arnie's perfect period, when he made Predator and Conan. They, to me, are just right, whereas in T2, he's beginning his Kindergarted Cop and Twins period.
Anyway, watching them was a mildly interesting exercise and I fancy the new film, so we'll see how the reinvention will go. I'm sure it'll be too long, though, as is the fashion today for these sorts of blockbusters. It would be nice to see a T1-style action film, but I'm not holding out any hope.
I'd seen both I & II, but a long time ago, so it was an interesting exercise revisiting them as I couldn't really remember them too well. The first thing that struck me was Arnie - he's perfect! But more perfect in the first film, when he's bad Arnie. He's scary, and somehow his unadulterated, implacable evil is more convincing than his warmer, cuddlier righteousness in the second film. T2's enjoyable, though, but you can see the early signs of Cameron overkill. T1 is short and snappy, about 100mins, which is about right, whereas T2, at least in the T2 Special Edition which I borrowed off my son, clocks in at a bloated 2.5 hours and I started to mentally clock off long before the end.
There's a preponderance of special effects, and we're supposed to be amused at AS subverting his role, and the ironic asides. Well, it probably did seem funny when it was released, but now it's a bit tiresome as we've seen so much of this sort of stuff since. The first film doesn't have anything like that at all, and it's the better film for it. I suppose it belongs to Arnie's perfect period, when he made Predator and Conan. They, to me, are just right, whereas in T2, he's beginning his Kindergarted Cop and Twins period.
Anyway, watching them was a mildly interesting exercise and I fancy the new film, so we'll see how the reinvention will go. I'm sure it'll be too long, though, as is the fashion today for these sorts of blockbusters. It would be nice to see a T1-style action film, but I'm not holding out any hope.
Thursday, 12 February 2009
Billy Liar
I watched this the other day - it was on an ancient video and I'd taped it years ago; I'd actually written an essay on it, so had watched it several times and knew it very well. But that was a few years ago, so I thought I'd give it another look. It's about a northern working-class lad who lives in a fantasy world, where fantasy is more real and fulfilling than reality. He has 2 girlfriends, both of whom he strings along, because he has a fantasy that he can have both. This doesn't sound very appealing, but somehow Courtenay makes Billy lovable and endearing.
I love Tom Courtenay. He's wonderful-looking, of course, with his chiselled bone structure, but there's a vulnerability about him that's enormously appealing. He was in the recent Little Dorrit - he's about 70 now, and he played Mr Dorrit, Amy's father, who's incarcerated in the Marshalsea, the debtor's prison, with his family He's retained that vulnerability and deep-rooted sadness, and his performance was heartbreaking.
He produced a book recently consisting of letters his mother sent to him when he was a young man down in London at drama school. He comes from a very working-class background in Hull, so he, unlike Billy, got away. The letters are wonderful, and they're interspersed with his memories, and some of his own letters. The whole thing is a marvellous read.
Anyway, back to Billy. The original play was written by Keith Waterhouse and Willis Hall, and it's hilarious. In the film, as well as TC playing Billy (who was played by Albert Finney in the original play), his sidekick at the undertakers where he works, is played by Rodney Bewes. Both lads fantasise, and there's a hilarious scene in which the two wander through the town (which I think is Bradford, though I could be wrong), trading witty fantasies and impersonations. Leonard Rossiter plays their boss, and his performance is another gem.
The thing about the film, as opposed to the play, is its vision of life in the early 60s, as Victorian buildings were pulled down to be be replaced by concrete and modernity. The first scene is a joy - Godfrey Winn is presenting Housewives' Choice, something I remember well from my own childhood, and reads out requests. We see the overjoyed housewives in their tower blocks hearing their requestes read out. Winn was a media ever-present in those days; an iconic figure, and hia performance is a joy. We see a nation in a ferment of change, yet which clings to the safety of tradition. The film is full of such scenes - there's a hilarious scene which depicts a supermarket opening, complete with visiting celebrity.
Billy has the chance to escape to London with Julie Christie, but he doesn't leave - he deliberately misses the train to London and life with Julie ,as, in the end, fantasy is safer than reality. I must mention Christie, as her appearance was one of those iconic moments in cinema. The sight of this loose-limbed, fancy-free girl, sashaying through the city streets, summed up swinging Britain and the atmosphere of the first half of the decade, when you really did feel that anything was possible. A true gem of British cinema - delightful.
I love Tom Courtenay. He's wonderful-looking, of course, with his chiselled bone structure, but there's a vulnerability about him that's enormously appealing. He was in the recent Little Dorrit - he's about 70 now, and he played Mr Dorrit, Amy's father, who's incarcerated in the Marshalsea, the debtor's prison, with his family He's retained that vulnerability and deep-rooted sadness, and his performance was heartbreaking.
He produced a book recently consisting of letters his mother sent to him when he was a young man down in London at drama school. He comes from a very working-class background in Hull, so he, unlike Billy, got away. The letters are wonderful, and they're interspersed with his memories, and some of his own letters. The whole thing is a marvellous read.
Anyway, back to Billy. The original play was written by Keith Waterhouse and Willis Hall, and it's hilarious. In the film, as well as TC playing Billy (who was played by Albert Finney in the original play), his sidekick at the undertakers where he works, is played by Rodney Bewes. Both lads fantasise, and there's a hilarious scene in which the two wander through the town (which I think is Bradford, though I could be wrong), trading witty fantasies and impersonations. Leonard Rossiter plays their boss, and his performance is another gem.
The thing about the film, as opposed to the play, is its vision of life in the early 60s, as Victorian buildings were pulled down to be be replaced by concrete and modernity. The first scene is a joy - Godfrey Winn is presenting Housewives' Choice, something I remember well from my own childhood, and reads out requests. We see the overjoyed housewives in their tower blocks hearing their requestes read out. Winn was a media ever-present in those days; an iconic figure, and hia performance is a joy. We see a nation in a ferment of change, yet which clings to the safety of tradition. The film is full of such scenes - there's a hilarious scene which depicts a supermarket opening, complete with visiting celebrity.
Billy has the chance to escape to London with Julie Christie, but he doesn't leave - he deliberately misses the train to London and life with Julie ,as, in the end, fantasy is safer than reality. I must mention Christie, as her appearance was one of those iconic moments in cinema. The sight of this loose-limbed, fancy-free girl, sashaying through the city streets, summed up swinging Britain and the atmosphere of the first half of the decade, when you really did feel that anything was possible. A true gem of British cinema - delightful.
Wednesday, 4 February 2009
The Wrestler
I saw this last night at a cinema I hadn't been to for years, the Odeon in the middle of Bristol. It was the only cinema which was still showing it at a reasonable time, so, as my daughter and I both wanted to see it, we went along to the 6.00 showing.
The last time I'd gone there was to see The Blair Witch Project, so you're talking about 10 years ago. It was an unhappy experience - the cinema was packed, hot and sweaty, and any suspense in the film was destroyed by mobile phones going off throughout, and a couple of girls behind us talked all the way through. I think one of them was didn't speak English, and the other one translated throughout! At the end, as we all got up to go, someone shouted out, 'Well, that was a load of rubbish!' And it was hard to disagree, though I've heard that it's much better seen at home - much scarier, so I might give it another try sometime.
Anyway, the cinema is now totally different - clean and comfortable, though it wouldn't do to go when it's packed as there's no stadium seating, which is now mandatory in new cinemas. And it's cheap! A new cinema opened in the middle of Bristol recently, in the new development, and it's pricey. I haven't been yet, and I feel I want to support the old Odeon, as I hate seeing cinemas close down. To keep up the competition, they're charging only £4.75, or £5.75 for the deluxe seats, which have higher backs and better leg room, which is where we went, and it was fine, though there was no-one sitting in front of us.
The film was great - Mickey Rourke was a revelation. I don't remember seeing him in anything before this, but I do know that his life has been a bit of a car crash in recent years. This is etched all over his face, and his huge, hulking presence is in virtually every scene. The camera follows him around, so we see what he sees - I've rarely seen a film where the central character has such presence. I found it one of the most compelling fillms, I've seen for a long time - it depicts people who one can believe really exist, doing the sort of jobs and living the kind of lives actual people live, not Hollywood stars. We see the lives of mobile-home-dwellers, supermarket workers and low-rent pole dancers brought to the screen in unforgiving, yet humane detail. Rourke is a wrestler approaching the end of his career, and he has managed to ruin every aspect of his private life; his ex-wife has disappeared from view and his shaky relationship with his daughter is destroyed when he fails to turn up for a meal in a restaurant with her, because he was too busy getting drunk and sleeping with a prostitute. He collapses with a heart attack and after his operation, is told he must never wrestle again. The final scene follows him as he returns to the ring, as it is the only place where he feels validated. Wrestling gives him the only reason to go on living.
I found the film deeply moving, and it's stayed with me. I couldn't recommend it more highly. Rourke, and his co-star, Marisa Tomei have both been nominated for well-deserved Oscars.
The last time I'd gone there was to see The Blair Witch Project, so you're talking about 10 years ago. It was an unhappy experience - the cinema was packed, hot and sweaty, and any suspense in the film was destroyed by mobile phones going off throughout, and a couple of girls behind us talked all the way through. I think one of them was didn't speak English, and the other one translated throughout! At the end, as we all got up to go, someone shouted out, 'Well, that was a load of rubbish!' And it was hard to disagree, though I've heard that it's much better seen at home - much scarier, so I might give it another try sometime.
Anyway, the cinema is now totally different - clean and comfortable, though it wouldn't do to go when it's packed as there's no stadium seating, which is now mandatory in new cinemas. And it's cheap! A new cinema opened in the middle of Bristol recently, in the new development, and it's pricey. I haven't been yet, and I feel I want to support the old Odeon, as I hate seeing cinemas close down. To keep up the competition, they're charging only £4.75, or £5.75 for the deluxe seats, which have higher backs and better leg room, which is where we went, and it was fine, though there was no-one sitting in front of us.
The film was great - Mickey Rourke was a revelation. I don't remember seeing him in anything before this, but I do know that his life has been a bit of a car crash in recent years. This is etched all over his face, and his huge, hulking presence is in virtually every scene. The camera follows him around, so we see what he sees - I've rarely seen a film where the central character has such presence. I found it one of the most compelling fillms, I've seen for a long time - it depicts people who one can believe really exist, doing the sort of jobs and living the kind of lives actual people live, not Hollywood stars. We see the lives of mobile-home-dwellers, supermarket workers and low-rent pole dancers brought to the screen in unforgiving, yet humane detail. Rourke is a wrestler approaching the end of his career, and he has managed to ruin every aspect of his private life; his ex-wife has disappeared from view and his shaky relationship with his daughter is destroyed when he fails to turn up for a meal in a restaurant with her, because he was too busy getting drunk and sleeping with a prostitute. He collapses with a heart attack and after his operation, is told he must never wrestle again. The final scene follows him as he returns to the ring, as it is the only place where he feels validated. Wrestling gives him the only reason to go on living.
I found the film deeply moving, and it's stayed with me. I couldn't recommend it more highly. Rourke, and his co-star, Marisa Tomei have both been nominated for well-deserved Oscars.
Thursday, 8 January 2009
Australia
I went to see this the other day with my daughter. We both knew that nobody else in our family would want to see it, but we had each other. Considering it was a late-afternoon performance on a Tuesday there were more people there than I'd expected, so others obviously had the same idea.
It had had terrible reviews in most of the papers, and Australian critics had savaged it apparently, for trotting out every single Australain cliche in the book However, all these reviews completely missed the point. The people who did like it, including (of course) my favourites, Mark Kermode on FiveLive and the Observer's Philip French got it immediately. A film can be rubbish on one level, but that doesn't in itself make it bad, or unwatchable. Yes, Australia does trot out every Australian cliche in the book, but it remains hugely watchable and enjoyable. It's the way Lurhmann says all the way through, lets not go over the top, lets go way beyond that. The final scene, in which Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman are reunited and the half -Aborigine boy goes off into the outback with the native shaman to learn the ways of his ancestors has the soundtrack of, get this, Elgar's Nimrod as a soundtrack, surely the most glaringly inappropriate use of music ever committed to celluloid. But it works, well, sort of, and anyway, it puts a smile on the audience's face.
We have the outback, cattle drives, the carpet bombing of Darwen in WWII, the lot, all ladled on with a huge spade. Austarlia itself is depicted in all its glory, and, having been there for one unforgettable trip, I can vouch for the wonder of the landscape. The country itself is the star, which I suppose was the intention.
Kidman and Jackman enter wholeheartedly into the spirit of the film - Kidman, impossibly, scarily thin, bustles around elegantly, and her transformation into a rancher is more convincing than her earlier elegant English county persona. Jackman is suitably taciturn and surly, and the little boy is suitably charming. All in all, a good evening out - very satisfying.
It had had terrible reviews in most of the papers, and Australian critics had savaged it apparently, for trotting out every single Australain cliche in the book However, all these reviews completely missed the point. The people who did like it, including (of course) my favourites, Mark Kermode on FiveLive and the Observer's Philip French got it immediately. A film can be rubbish on one level, but that doesn't in itself make it bad, or unwatchable. Yes, Australia does trot out every Australian cliche in the book, but it remains hugely watchable and enjoyable. It's the way Lurhmann says all the way through, lets not go over the top, lets go way beyond that. The final scene, in which Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman are reunited and the half -Aborigine boy goes off into the outback with the native shaman to learn the ways of his ancestors has the soundtrack of, get this, Elgar's Nimrod as a soundtrack, surely the most glaringly inappropriate use of music ever committed to celluloid. But it works, well, sort of, and anyway, it puts a smile on the audience's face.
We have the outback, cattle drives, the carpet bombing of Darwen in WWII, the lot, all ladled on with a huge spade. Austarlia itself is depicted in all its glory, and, having been there for one unforgettable trip, I can vouch for the wonder of the landscape. The country itself is the star, which I suppose was the intention.
Kidman and Jackman enter wholeheartedly into the spirit of the film - Kidman, impossibly, scarily thin, bustles around elegantly, and her transformation into a rancher is more convincing than her earlier elegant English county persona. Jackman is suitably taciturn and surly, and the little boy is suitably charming. All in all, a good evening out - very satisfying.
Saturday, 29 November 2008
Of Time and the City
I went to see Of Time and the City recently, directed and narrated by Terence Davies. It's his paen to the Liverpool of his childhood, and was received with great acclaim at Cannes in the summer.
I went with a group of friends, one of whom was someone who'd grown up in Liverpool at around the same time, the post-WWII period. He was deeply moved by the film, appreciating Davies's grasp of Liverpool, not as a geographical entity, but as a place of imagination and feeling. I feel very much the same about Oxford - the place where you grew up becomes part of your DNA, a place that you feel rather than see. I visited Oxford a couple of years ago - the first time for quite a while. I'd left at the age of 32, after spending virtually my whole life there, and had only returned a few times, but walking round the streets of the city, it was as if I knew every paving stone, every brick in the wall. Even though much in the city has changed beyond recognition, everything is still there, not just in my memory, but in my unconscious, in every fibre of my being.
So I recognised where Davies was coming from, and so did my friend. On Mark Kermode's film review slot on Radio 5, he talked about the torrent of mail he'd received after he'd praised the film to the skies the other week. Many people had gone to see it after hearing his recommendation, but had ended up bored, or hating it. Though there were some who'd loved it. Davies's voice was a problem for some, and it's not a normal one - like other Liverpudlians he had elocution lessons (Beryl Bainbridge is another) as the L'pool accent was seen as a massive handicap before the Beatles came along and made it fashionable. So his voice is fruity and posh, with an acerbic, but yearning tone which encapsulated the act of memory, of return, of looking back, perfectly
The film is a collection of found footage woven together to form a tapestry of Liverpool then and now. And that's basically it, though I cannot overemphasise that it's actually much, much more. I will certainly buy the DVD when it's released as I think it will be a film that I'll return to over and over again. Thank you, Terence
I went with a group of friends, one of whom was someone who'd grown up in Liverpool at around the same time, the post-WWII period. He was deeply moved by the film, appreciating Davies's grasp of Liverpool, not as a geographical entity, but as a place of imagination and feeling. I feel very much the same about Oxford - the place where you grew up becomes part of your DNA, a place that you feel rather than see. I visited Oxford a couple of years ago - the first time for quite a while. I'd left at the age of 32, after spending virtually my whole life there, and had only returned a few times, but walking round the streets of the city, it was as if I knew every paving stone, every brick in the wall. Even though much in the city has changed beyond recognition, everything is still there, not just in my memory, but in my unconscious, in every fibre of my being.
So I recognised where Davies was coming from, and so did my friend. On Mark Kermode's film review slot on Radio 5, he talked about the torrent of mail he'd received after he'd praised the film to the skies the other week. Many people had gone to see it after hearing his recommendation, but had ended up bored, or hating it. Though there were some who'd loved it. Davies's voice was a problem for some, and it's not a normal one - like other Liverpudlians he had elocution lessons (Beryl Bainbridge is another) as the L'pool accent was seen as a massive handicap before the Beatles came along and made it fashionable. So his voice is fruity and posh, with an acerbic, but yearning tone which encapsulated the act of memory, of return, of looking back, perfectly
The film is a collection of found footage woven together to form a tapestry of Liverpool then and now. And that's basically it, though I cannot overemphasise that it's actually much, much more. I will certainly buy the DVD when it's released as I think it will be a film that I'll return to over and over again. Thank you, Terence
Monday, 10 November 2008
The Leopard
I watched this film twice (my latest DVD rental) - I'd always wanted to see it but had never managed it so finally caught up with it. I'd long had a fascination with Italian cinema ever since I did an Open University course in post-war French and Italian society which had a substantial component on Italian neo-realist film.
Visconti was an especially interesting character - a Marxist, homosexual aristocrat who made one of the earliest neo-realist films, Ossessione. We were sent a video with various film clips as part of the study pack and there were several clips from Ossessione, but I soon obtained it on video, and even went to see it at the cinema a few years ago. I can't remember why it was on, but there was a one-off screening at the Watershed one Sunday afternoon, so I couldn't possibly miss that. It had become one of my favourite films - gritty, in black-and-white, it depicted the underside of Italian society for the first time ever. It was made during Mussolini's regime - I don't know how Visconti managed it, but it was an act of great courage. He went on to make La Terra Trema a seminal film in the neo-realist canon, but post-war, his career path followed a highly individual trajectory.
The Leopard was released in 1963 and by then Visconti was making large-scale epics about Italian history, notably Rocco and his Brothers in 1960, which I remember my father going to see on his own. It was about a family of boxers (my father was a huge boxing fan) and of course it had subtitles. Dad's hearing had been damaged in the war, so the subtitles made a huge difference. He didn't go to the cinema much, so this must have been pretty special for him, though I have no idea what he made of the film.
Senso, which was set in the mid-19th century, dealt with the Italian aristocracy, a subject of which Visconti had a feeling for, and knowledge of which was unsurpassed. I haven't seen Senso, so it'll go straight on to my rental list. Later he made The Damned which was about the German upper classes' complicity with Nazism, and starred Dirk Bogarde. I did see that a long time ago, but my appetite has been whetted so that'll go on the list as well.
The Leopard was graced by Burt Lancaster in the leading role as Prince Don Fabrizio Salina, the head of a decaying Sicilian family, buffeted by Garibaldi's revolution. I written about Lancaster before, and although he's dubbed here, his presence illuminates the film from begininng to end. Dubbing is perfectly normal in Italian cinema, even Italian dialogue is often dubbed for Italians, so it doesn't really seem out of place. It does enable actors such as Lancaster, Bogarde, and Alain Delon, another Visconti favourite who features here, to feature quite comfortably in Italian films. Anyway, Lancaster's performance is masterly. His character knows and accepts that he and his class are doomed to pass away, and the final scene, in which Salina leaves the grandiose ball alone, on foot, leaving everyone else to drive off in ther carriages, and slowly wanders the darkened streets, stopping and quitely genuflecting as a religious procession passes by, manages to be deeply moving. I can't possibly explain why - Lancaster's in long shot, the camera's withdrawing and letting the action unfold - but after nearly 3 hours in his company, both he and Visconti have managed to make us care about him.
It's full of glorious set pieces, the centrepiece the ballroom scene at the end which is a full 40 minutes. I suppose many would consider it goes on for far too long, but it lets us in to the heart and soul of Sicilian society - magnificent.
I must mention the music. Visconti uses music a great deal, in fact his films are operatic. It's yearning and emotional, and pretty old-fashioned. I loved it - it's elegaic, emotional and full of longing and sadness. It's by Nino Rota, who was responsible for the music for The Godfather. I can imagine it wouldn't be to everyone's taste, but it's a perfect marriage of sound and vision.
Italian cinema nosedived in the 1970s but appears to be on the brink of a resurgence - ;et's hope so, the Italians have a rich cinematic tradition. Meanwhile I'll revisit some of its greatest hits.
Visconti was an especially interesting character - a Marxist, homosexual aristocrat who made one of the earliest neo-realist films, Ossessione. We were sent a video with various film clips as part of the study pack and there were several clips from Ossessione, but I soon obtained it on video, and even went to see it at the cinema a few years ago. I can't remember why it was on, but there was a one-off screening at the Watershed one Sunday afternoon, so I couldn't possibly miss that. It had become one of my favourite films - gritty, in black-and-white, it depicted the underside of Italian society for the first time ever. It was made during Mussolini's regime - I don't know how Visconti managed it, but it was an act of great courage. He went on to make La Terra Trema a seminal film in the neo-realist canon, but post-war, his career path followed a highly individual trajectory.
The Leopard was released in 1963 and by then Visconti was making large-scale epics about Italian history, notably Rocco and his Brothers in 1960, which I remember my father going to see on his own. It was about a family of boxers (my father was a huge boxing fan) and of course it had subtitles. Dad's hearing had been damaged in the war, so the subtitles made a huge difference. He didn't go to the cinema much, so this must have been pretty special for him, though I have no idea what he made of the film.
Senso, which was set in the mid-19th century, dealt with the Italian aristocracy, a subject of which Visconti had a feeling for, and knowledge of which was unsurpassed. I haven't seen Senso, so it'll go straight on to my rental list. Later he made The Damned which was about the German upper classes' complicity with Nazism, and starred Dirk Bogarde. I did see that a long time ago, but my appetite has been whetted so that'll go on the list as well.
The Leopard was graced by Burt Lancaster in the leading role as Prince Don Fabrizio Salina, the head of a decaying Sicilian family, buffeted by Garibaldi's revolution. I written about Lancaster before, and although he's dubbed here, his presence illuminates the film from begininng to end. Dubbing is perfectly normal in Italian cinema, even Italian dialogue is often dubbed for Italians, so it doesn't really seem out of place. It does enable actors such as Lancaster, Bogarde, and Alain Delon, another Visconti favourite who features here, to feature quite comfortably in Italian films. Anyway, Lancaster's performance is masterly. His character knows and accepts that he and his class are doomed to pass away, and the final scene, in which Salina leaves the grandiose ball alone, on foot, leaving everyone else to drive off in ther carriages, and slowly wanders the darkened streets, stopping and quitely genuflecting as a religious procession passes by, manages to be deeply moving. I can't possibly explain why - Lancaster's in long shot, the camera's withdrawing and letting the action unfold - but after nearly 3 hours in his company, both he and Visconti have managed to make us care about him.
It's full of glorious set pieces, the centrepiece the ballroom scene at the end which is a full 40 minutes. I suppose many would consider it goes on for far too long, but it lets us in to the heart and soul of Sicilian society - magnificent.
I must mention the music. Visconti uses music a great deal, in fact his films are operatic. It's yearning and emotional, and pretty old-fashioned. I loved it - it's elegaic, emotional and full of longing and sadness. It's by Nino Rota, who was responsible for the music for The Godfather. I can imagine it wouldn't be to everyone's taste, but it's a perfect marriage of sound and vision.
Italian cinema nosedived in the 1970s but appears to be on the brink of a resurgence - ;et's hope so, the Italians have a rich cinematic tradition. Meanwhile I'll revisit some of its greatest hits.
Saturday, 18 October 2008
Brideshead Revisited
I saw the new film of this book last week; it wasn't at the top of my 'to-see' list, but my daughter wanted to go, so, as we knew nobody else in our mostly male family wouldn't want to go, off we went to the local multiplex.
We thought we were going to be the only people in the audience (we were, once before, when we saw the Hamlet set in a present-day New York loft apartment, starring Ethan Hawke. It was quite good actually, but a rather weird experience, watching Hamlet in a deserted multiplex auditorium). But 2 more people turned up, so the 4 of us settled down, rattling around in a huge cinema.
Brideshead is something I feel very attached to; I read the book back in the 1970s, so I was very much the age my daughter is now when I first encountered it. I read it several times, luxuriating in Waugh's perfect prose and inimitable storytelling. I went on to read most of Waugh's other novels, and then his diaries and letters. His l;ife was fascinating - although far removed from my own world, I was seduced, and still am, by the whole Waugh milieu.
Anyway, along came the ITV serial in about 1981, starring Jeremy Irons and Anthony Andrews, which of course became a benchmark for so-called 'heritage' drama serials. In the days when there were only 3 channels, it became compulsive viewing for millions, and the nation was riveted. I remember looking forward with high excitement to the final episode, which was screened just before Christmas. The nation was frozen under a blanket of snow and ice; the Solidarity protests were underway in Poland, and people over there were starving; the Tory spending cuts were taking hold and the country was still only beginning to recover from the late 70s recession, yet we were all held in thrall to this elegy for British country house aristocratic life before WWII.
Jeremy Irons essentially read the book as a voiceover, and his elegaic, understated style set the tone for the whole dramatisation. John Mortimer wrote the script and I can't see any deviation from Waugh. Mortimer is a socialist atheist, about as far removed from Waugh as is possible, yet he captured the spirit of the book perfectly. The casting was perfect - I've said this before, but it's one of my bugbears, so I'll say it again - they could all speak Waugh's dialogue, and, try as they might, none of the actors in the new film could. Emme Thompson as Lady Marchmain did her best, but even she couldn't manage it. Claire Bloom played her in the TV series, and portrayed her icy elegance perfectly. Thompson was good, but somehow too robust, and coul;dn't quite manage to excise the estuary from her voice. Patrick Malahide as Charles's father did better, as did Michael Gambon as Lord Marchmain, but when you know they were following in the footsteps of John Gielgud and Laurence Olivier then even these fine actors are going to seem somewhat diminished. Gielgud caught Mr Ryder's unworldly yet lethal self-absorption so perfectly, it's hard to imagine it being done any better.
I must also mention Phoebe Nicholls as Cordelia. She captured her heartfelt goodness perfectly. She only made the most perfunctory appearance in the new film - a merely token presence only, but in the book, and the TV series, she's central. She's a living embodiment of how Catholic lfe should be lived, and example to all the other characters, and she could have been insufferable, but Nicholls made her enchanting. I suppose the filmmakers either couldn't find anyone who could play the part convincingly, or they just couldn't be bothered with her, seeing her as just a priggish goody-goody.
Anyway, what was good about the new film was Ben Whishaw as Sebastian. I love Whishaw as an actor, and I think he's something very special. He had some bad reviews and I couldn't find anyone who was prepared to say a good word about his performance. But I though he captured Sebastian's damaged fragility perfectly. Anthony Andrews was of course superb, and managed to convey Sebastian's self-knowledge and deliberate self-destruction beautifully, but he was physically wrong - too tall and too robust. He towered over Irons which somehow seemed wrong, while Whishaw seemed as is he might break at any moment, which is how I always imagined Sebastian.
Mortimer, in spite of his atheism, never shied away from the religion, which is central to the book. Waugh says in the preface that it's the subject, but the film pushed it aside as a kind of annoying extra that they had to somehow fit in, but wasn't really interested. Mortimer was interested, and in the book Charles comes to recognise the operation of grace - something which the film ignores. Film Charles remains a doubter, which is wrong. Which makes Julia's refusal to continue their relationship meaningless. And that's another thing - Julia. Diana Quick in the TV series was perfect, brittle, but vulnerable. Again Hayley Atwell did her best but was too solid. You just couldn't imagine her giving up Charles for God.
So, a missed opportunity perhaps, but I don't think the book is filmable nowadays on any level. You have to be able to call on people who are prepared to take Waugh seriously, and I don't think any one is these days. Oh well....I suppose we'll never see another good Waugh adaptaion, though there are plenty out there already. Kristin Scott Thomas in A Handful of Dust - another actress who can speak properly And does anyone remember the marvellous Sword of Honour BBC serial in the 1960s, with Edward Woodward? A creditable version was done a few years ago with Daniel Craig which I remember as being rather good, but, in the end, the books are so good that they spring to life in one's head.
We thought we were going to be the only people in the audience (we were, once before, when we saw the Hamlet set in a present-day New York loft apartment, starring Ethan Hawke. It was quite good actually, but a rather weird experience, watching Hamlet in a deserted multiplex auditorium). But 2 more people turned up, so the 4 of us settled down, rattling around in a huge cinema.
Brideshead is something I feel very attached to; I read the book back in the 1970s, so I was very much the age my daughter is now when I first encountered it. I read it several times, luxuriating in Waugh's perfect prose and inimitable storytelling. I went on to read most of Waugh's other novels, and then his diaries and letters. His l;ife was fascinating - although far removed from my own world, I was seduced, and still am, by the whole Waugh milieu.
Anyway, along came the ITV serial in about 1981, starring Jeremy Irons and Anthony Andrews, which of course became a benchmark for so-called 'heritage' drama serials. In the days when there were only 3 channels, it became compulsive viewing for millions, and the nation was riveted. I remember looking forward with high excitement to the final episode, which was screened just before Christmas. The nation was frozen under a blanket of snow and ice; the Solidarity protests were underway in Poland, and people over there were starving; the Tory spending cuts were taking hold and the country was still only beginning to recover from the late 70s recession, yet we were all held in thrall to this elegy for British country house aristocratic life before WWII.
Jeremy Irons essentially read the book as a voiceover, and his elegaic, understated style set the tone for the whole dramatisation. John Mortimer wrote the script and I can't see any deviation from Waugh. Mortimer is a socialist atheist, about as far removed from Waugh as is possible, yet he captured the spirit of the book perfectly. The casting was perfect - I've said this before, but it's one of my bugbears, so I'll say it again - they could all speak Waugh's dialogue, and, try as they might, none of the actors in the new film could. Emme Thompson as Lady Marchmain did her best, but even she couldn't manage it. Claire Bloom played her in the TV series, and portrayed her icy elegance perfectly. Thompson was good, but somehow too robust, and coul;dn't quite manage to excise the estuary from her voice. Patrick Malahide as Charles's father did better, as did Michael Gambon as Lord Marchmain, but when you know they were following in the footsteps of John Gielgud and Laurence Olivier then even these fine actors are going to seem somewhat diminished. Gielgud caught Mr Ryder's unworldly yet lethal self-absorption so perfectly, it's hard to imagine it being done any better.
I must also mention Phoebe Nicholls as Cordelia. She captured her heartfelt goodness perfectly. She only made the most perfunctory appearance in the new film - a merely token presence only, but in the book, and the TV series, she's central. She's a living embodiment of how Catholic lfe should be lived, and example to all the other characters, and she could have been insufferable, but Nicholls made her enchanting. I suppose the filmmakers either couldn't find anyone who could play the part convincingly, or they just couldn't be bothered with her, seeing her as just a priggish goody-goody.
Anyway, what was good about the new film was Ben Whishaw as Sebastian. I love Whishaw as an actor, and I think he's something very special. He had some bad reviews and I couldn't find anyone who was prepared to say a good word about his performance. But I though he captured Sebastian's damaged fragility perfectly. Anthony Andrews was of course superb, and managed to convey Sebastian's self-knowledge and deliberate self-destruction beautifully, but he was physically wrong - too tall and too robust. He towered over Irons which somehow seemed wrong, while Whishaw seemed as is he might break at any moment, which is how I always imagined Sebastian.
Mortimer, in spite of his atheism, never shied away from the religion, which is central to the book. Waugh says in the preface that it's the subject, but the film pushed it aside as a kind of annoying extra that they had to somehow fit in, but wasn't really interested. Mortimer was interested, and in the book Charles comes to recognise the operation of grace - something which the film ignores. Film Charles remains a doubter, which is wrong. Which makes Julia's refusal to continue their relationship meaningless. And that's another thing - Julia. Diana Quick in the TV series was perfect, brittle, but vulnerable. Again Hayley Atwell did her best but was too solid. You just couldn't imagine her giving up Charles for God.
So, a missed opportunity perhaps, but I don't think the book is filmable nowadays on any level. You have to be able to call on people who are prepared to take Waugh seriously, and I don't think any one is these days. Oh well....I suppose we'll never see another good Waugh adaptaion, though there are plenty out there already. Kristin Scott Thomas in A Handful of Dust - another actress who can speak properly And does anyone remember the marvellous Sword of Honour BBC serial in the 1960s, with Edward Woodward? A creditable version was done a few years ago with Daniel Craig which I remember as being rather good, but, in the end, the books are so good that they spring to life in one's head.
Monday, 22 September 2008
Times and Winds
I loved this film, and after immersing myself in Turkey while reading Snow, I found it fascinating on many levels, but it's the sense of ferment, of tension between a deeply traditional society and the forces of modernisation, which co-exist and sometimes collide with each other.
It's a hard film to describe - it's basically a portrait of the lives of a group of teenagers in an isolated, rural part of Turkey.In spite of the way of life that governs them, something that's been embedded for centuries, there's television, telephones and education. The female schoolteacher doesn't wear a headscarf, unlike the mothers of the children she teaches. She's a force for modernity, as is the television which is always present in the children's often harsh and sppartan home surroundings. One of the boys she teaches has a crush on her, and it's clear she must seem like a goddess to her pupils, whose mothers and sisters labour under the yoke of tradition.
There are scenes of great beauty in this film, helped by Arvo Part's music. I know it isn't to everyone's taste, and it was pretty pervasive, and loud, but it gave the film a seriousness and grandeur which it deserved. A small masterpiece.
It's a hard film to describe - it's basically a portrait of the lives of a group of teenagers in an isolated, rural part of Turkey.In spite of the way of life that governs them, something that's been embedded for centuries, there's television, telephones and education. The female schoolteacher doesn't wear a headscarf, unlike the mothers of the children she teaches. She's a force for modernity, as is the television which is always present in the children's often harsh and sppartan home surroundings. One of the boys she teaches has a crush on her, and it's clear she must seem like a goddess to her pupils, whose mothers and sisters labour under the yoke of tradition.
There are scenes of great beauty in this film, helped by Arvo Part's music. I know it isn't to everyone's taste, and it was pretty pervasive, and loud, but it gave the film a seriousness and grandeur which it deserved. A small masterpiece.
Wednesday, 10 September 2008
The Duchess
I went to see this with my daughter - we knew that no-one else in our male-orientated family would want to see it, but we both enjoy costume dramas, and we enjoyed it very much. It's funny how they've acquired such a bad reputation, but those who like them love them.
It had received some bad reviews in the usual predictable quarters - Peter Bradshaw, I mean you, though he wasn't the only one, practically every reviewer sneered at it. But my hero, Mark Kermode on FiveLive, came to the rescue. He's usually highly critical of costume films, and has savaged Keira Knightley (who played the eponymous duchess) in the past, but he approved of the film, so that in itself intrigued me.
I knew a bit about Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire as I'd read the biography by Amanda Foreman on which the film was based. It's an excellent book, and the Gainsborough portrait of her on the cover shows a character who looks as if she has a wicked sense of humour - she's not conventionally pretty, but she's intelligent-looking and feisty and it's easy to see how Foreman, as she confesses in her introduction, fell in love with her subject. It's very much a scholarly work, with footnotes and an index, but it's compulsive reading.
Georgiana's story is amazing, even by 18-century standards. Her arranged marriage at the age of 17, to the stratospherically wealthy, but emotionally cold and distant Duke of Devonshire gave her the chance to shine in society and she grabbed that opportunity with both hands, becoming a leading light in the ton as it was called. Her downfall came when she committed the crime of producing daughters, which distanced her even further from the Duke, and even though she eventually produced a son, by then she'd had a passionate affair with the man who eventually became Lord Grey (famous for introducing the famous Great Reform Act in 1832 - an event and date engraved on my memory from school history lessons).
You couldn't invent her life; and the film doesn't give us the half of it. That's its main failing, I think, as it gives us a too-happy ending. Nevertheless, it gives us a convincing picture of the period and I have to say that Knightley gives a sterling performance. I have a feeling she's going to become a Helen Mirren-like national acting treasure - her choice of roles is increasingly interesting, though she needs to stop making those hideous Pirates of the Caribbean films. I look forward to following her career.
It had received some bad reviews in the usual predictable quarters - Peter Bradshaw, I mean you, though he wasn't the only one, practically every reviewer sneered at it. But my hero, Mark Kermode on FiveLive, came to the rescue. He's usually highly critical of costume films, and has savaged Keira Knightley (who played the eponymous duchess) in the past, but he approved of the film, so that in itself intrigued me.
I knew a bit about Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire as I'd read the biography by Amanda Foreman on which the film was based. It's an excellent book, and the Gainsborough portrait of her on the cover shows a character who looks as if she has a wicked sense of humour - she's not conventionally pretty, but she's intelligent-looking and feisty and it's easy to see how Foreman, as she confesses in her introduction, fell in love with her subject. It's very much a scholarly work, with footnotes and an index, but it's compulsive reading.
Georgiana's story is amazing, even by 18-century standards. Her arranged marriage at the age of 17, to the stratospherically wealthy, but emotionally cold and distant Duke of Devonshire gave her the chance to shine in society and she grabbed that opportunity with both hands, becoming a leading light in the ton as it was called. Her downfall came when she committed the crime of producing daughters, which distanced her even further from the Duke, and even though she eventually produced a son, by then she'd had a passionate affair with the man who eventually became Lord Grey (famous for introducing the famous Great Reform Act in 1832 - an event and date engraved on my memory from school history lessons).
You couldn't invent her life; and the film doesn't give us the half of it. That's its main failing, I think, as it gives us a too-happy ending. Nevertheless, it gives us a convincing picture of the period and I have to say that Knightley gives a sterling performance. I have a feeling she's going to become a Helen Mirren-like national acting treasure - her choice of roles is increasingly interesting, though she needs to stop making those hideous Pirates of the Caribbean films. I look forward to following her career.
Thursday, 4 September 2008
The Orphanage
I'd meant to see this at the cinema when it was released but it didn't happen, so as soon as it came out on DVD I put it at the top of my rental list. I had to wait a while before it came, and it was pretty near the top of the DVD charts for quite a while, so it was obviously extremely popular. Anyway it finally arrived, so I had a real sense of anticipation.
Was it worth it? I watched it twice, as I was pretty sleepy the first time and knew that I may have missed the odd little chunk or two. Also I wanted to see it again to make sure that my feelings of flatness after seeing it were justified.
It's beautifully filmed, but where have I seen that look? It's the greyish-blue tinge to everything, and the creepy, country-house setting, very different from the National Trust look of many British films. We first saw it in The Others a few years ago, a ghost story set in the Channel Islands during the 1940s and it set the template. I thought it was excellent - scary children, weird, ghostly sets, and Nicole Kidman, brittle, fragile and heartbreaking, producing one of her best performances and Alejandro Amenabar proved himself an extremely accomplished director. Certainly Spanish cinema has produced some extraordinarily original films in recent years, and The Others, The Devil's Backbone and Pan's Labrynth have been prime examples.
The Orphanage is in this vein but, unlike those films it didn't convince. I'm happy to completely suspend disbelief when watching films, but the film has to make you do it, and this one didn't.
It obviously succeeded with many, and the reviews were adulatory, so maybe it's just me.
The Orphanage's narrative doesn't compel. It lacked narrative drive and structure and, although it was well acted and beautifully filmed, it was all over the place. The basic story, that of the childless couple attempting to set up a home for children with severe disabilities in the country house in which the wife, herself an orphan, had been brought up. The house had been an old-fashioned orphanage and the couple had now bought it. Their adopted son begins to collect imaginary friends, who turn out to be the ghosts of his mother's playmates, who were murdered....and so it went on. I've forgotten who the murderer was.
An implausible scenario, which doesn't disqualify it by any means; after all, the same might be said for many of the greatest films. But I didn't believe a word of it and the ending was ludicrous and had a tacked-on feel. It's one of those films where I have a blind spot - it doesn't happen too often, but occasionally I find myself out of step. Oh well......
Was it worth it? I watched it twice, as I was pretty sleepy the first time and knew that I may have missed the odd little chunk or two. Also I wanted to see it again to make sure that my feelings of flatness after seeing it were justified.
It's beautifully filmed, but where have I seen that look? It's the greyish-blue tinge to everything, and the creepy, country-house setting, very different from the National Trust look of many British films. We first saw it in The Others a few years ago, a ghost story set in the Channel Islands during the 1940s and it set the template. I thought it was excellent - scary children, weird, ghostly sets, and Nicole Kidman, brittle, fragile and heartbreaking, producing one of her best performances and Alejandro Amenabar proved himself an extremely accomplished director. Certainly Spanish cinema has produced some extraordinarily original films in recent years, and The Others, The Devil's Backbone and Pan's Labrynth have been prime examples.
The Orphanage is in this vein but, unlike those films it didn't convince. I'm happy to completely suspend disbelief when watching films, but the film has to make you do it, and this one didn't.
It obviously succeeded with many, and the reviews were adulatory, so maybe it's just me.
The Orphanage's narrative doesn't compel. It lacked narrative drive and structure and, although it was well acted and beautifully filmed, it was all over the place. The basic story, that of the childless couple attempting to set up a home for children with severe disabilities in the country house in which the wife, herself an orphan, had been brought up. The house had been an old-fashioned orphanage and the couple had now bought it. Their adopted son begins to collect imaginary friends, who turn out to be the ghosts of his mother's playmates, who were murdered....and so it went on. I've forgotten who the murderer was.
An implausible scenario, which doesn't disqualify it by any means; after all, the same might be said for many of the greatest films. But I didn't believe a word of it and the ending was ludicrous and had a tacked-on feel. It's one of those films where I have a blind spot - it doesn't happen too often, but occasionally I find myself out of step. Oh well......
Tuesday, 26 August 2008
Man on Wire
I went to see this at the cinema the other day - I'd read the fantastic reviews and decided it must be seen. And the reviews were right, it was worth it.
Philippe Petit walked across a tightrope strung between the World Trade Centre's twin towers in 1974, and the film sketches the background, with interviews with Petit and the people who helped him. That's it, basically, but the film is so much more than that brief precis. The ultimate fate of the twin towers is never mentioned - it didn't need to be, but it's there in the background, all the time, especially as there is quite a bit of footage in the film of their construction.
The film gives a fascinating glimpse into life in 1974 - 34 years ago, a lifetime. No-one filmed Petit's feat; people didn't do that kind of thing then, the cameras would have been too difficult to conceal anyway. Now someone would pluck a mobile out of their pocket and capture the whole thing - if they could get up there in the first place, sceurity, although pretty tight then, would surely be impenetrable nowadays.
Petit is an engaging character, and it was easy to see how he managed to bring others on board to help him, but it was startling to see the contrast between his recollections and those of his friends. He told the story as a knd of personal challenge, but they remembered their terror of being discovered, the tension surrounding the whole affair. petit became a huge celebrity at the end, but the others disappeared into obscurity. Such is the nature of fame, I guess.
There was film footage of petit practising in what looked like a back garden, and of his other escapades, including his tightrope walk between the towers of Notre Dame in Paris. Yes, he's clearly a publicity seeker, but a very brave man. Self-obsessed, yes, but we still need people like that. The same applies to all those great Olympians, such as Steve Redgrave. You can ask 'what is the point?', as some journalists have written in the wake of the fantastic British success at the Beijing Olympics this month, but such killjoys deserve oblivion.
People like Petit add to the sum of human greatness, so thanks, Philippe.
Philippe Petit walked across a tightrope strung between the World Trade Centre's twin towers in 1974, and the film sketches the background, with interviews with Petit and the people who helped him. That's it, basically, but the film is so much more than that brief precis. The ultimate fate of the twin towers is never mentioned - it didn't need to be, but it's there in the background, all the time, especially as there is quite a bit of footage in the film of their construction.
The film gives a fascinating glimpse into life in 1974 - 34 years ago, a lifetime. No-one filmed Petit's feat; people didn't do that kind of thing then, the cameras would have been too difficult to conceal anyway. Now someone would pluck a mobile out of their pocket and capture the whole thing - if they could get up there in the first place, sceurity, although pretty tight then, would surely be impenetrable nowadays.
Petit is an engaging character, and it was easy to see how he managed to bring others on board to help him, but it was startling to see the contrast between his recollections and those of his friends. He told the story as a knd of personal challenge, but they remembered their terror of being discovered, the tension surrounding the whole affair. petit became a huge celebrity at the end, but the others disappeared into obscurity. Such is the nature of fame, I guess.
There was film footage of petit practising in what looked like a back garden, and of his other escapades, including his tightrope walk between the towers of Notre Dame in Paris. Yes, he's clearly a publicity seeker, but a very brave man. Self-obsessed, yes, but we still need people like that. The same applies to all those great Olympians, such as Steve Redgrave. You can ask 'what is the point?', as some journalists have written in the wake of the fantastic British success at the Beijing Olympics this month, but such killjoys deserve oblivion.
People like Petit add to the sum of human greatness, so thanks, Philippe.
Wednesday, 13 August 2008
Charlton Heston
I recorded El Cid recently on video - it's a popular film for filling the Saturday afternoon schedules, and I noticed that it's on yet again next week. So I whiled away a wet Sunday afternoon last week by watching it.
I really don't know why I love Charlton Heston, his right-wing views in recent years were a bit scary, but that doesn't make you a bad actor; he died this year from Alzhiemer's, but he was 88, so had a good innings, as they say. And in spite of becoming a leading light in the NRA he was a very early public advocate of civil rights, long before it became fashionable. So, a fascinatingly contradictory character.
Maybe it's because Ben Hur was the first wide-screen spectacular I'd ever seen. I was at an impressionable age, about 10 or 11, and it had an enormous impact on me. It was in the days when cinemas had only one screen, and it was huge. Ben Hur was in Todd AO as well, so it really was a massive experience for me.
CH was sold into slavery, endured the galleys, was rescued by the Romans, and became a hero in the arenas of Imperial Rome; he then escaped, bumped into Jesus who healed his sister and mother from leprosy, and found his long-lost love after his years away - what a story! I can't think of any, any actor, past or present, who could have carried it off. But especially now - Tom Cruise? Harrison Ford? I don't think so.
There's something about his expression - it's the stricken integrity in his eyes - you just know that he's always going to do the right thing, and in El Cid he has this quality in spades. Again, he endures all manner of hardships and humiliations, but prevails. The final scene has passed into cinema iconography, he's dead, but leads his men to victory while strapped to his horse on a Spanish beach. Tremendous even by Heston's standards!
He went on to be Michelangelo in The Agony and the Ecstasy, and John the Baptist in The Greatest Story Ever Told, then he took a different tack and made Will Penny, one of the very first 'revisionist' westerns.
He went on to make some fascinating films - science-fiction such as Soylent Green and The Omega Man, both excellent, and then his piece de resistance, Planet of the Apes. What a career!
I really don't know why I love Charlton Heston, his right-wing views in recent years were a bit scary, but that doesn't make you a bad actor; he died this year from Alzhiemer's, but he was 88, so had a good innings, as they say. And in spite of becoming a leading light in the NRA he was a very early public advocate of civil rights, long before it became fashionable. So, a fascinatingly contradictory character.
Maybe it's because Ben Hur was the first wide-screen spectacular I'd ever seen. I was at an impressionable age, about 10 or 11, and it had an enormous impact on me. It was in the days when cinemas had only one screen, and it was huge. Ben Hur was in Todd AO as well, so it really was a massive experience for me.
CH was sold into slavery, endured the galleys, was rescued by the Romans, and became a hero in the arenas of Imperial Rome; he then escaped, bumped into Jesus who healed his sister and mother from leprosy, and found his long-lost love after his years away - what a story! I can't think of any, any actor, past or present, who could have carried it off. But especially now - Tom Cruise? Harrison Ford? I don't think so.
There's something about his expression - it's the stricken integrity in his eyes - you just know that he's always going to do the right thing, and in El Cid he has this quality in spades. Again, he endures all manner of hardships and humiliations, but prevails. The final scene has passed into cinema iconography, he's dead, but leads his men to victory while strapped to his horse on a Spanish beach. Tremendous even by Heston's standards!
He went on to be Michelangelo in The Agony and the Ecstasy, and John the Baptist in The Greatest Story Ever Told, then he took a different tack and made Will Penny, one of the very first 'revisionist' westerns.
He went on to make some fascinating films - science-fiction such as Soylent Green and The Omega Man, both excellent, and then his piece de resistance, Planet of the Apes. What a career!
Thursday, 7 August 2008
Summer Hours
This was a lovely little film. It was definitely something that probably only someone over a certain age would really appreciate, and the cinema was pretty full of middle-aged people, and myself and the friend who accompanied me fitted in well. But then you would only really 'get' it if you'd had to deal with ageing parents, the dissolution of families as everyone carves out their individual lives, and the fractured nature of modern adult life.
It's one of those closely-observed portraits of modern bourgeois life that the French do so well - British versions, for example, Mike Leigh films, always seem to be satirical, laughing at middle-class pretensions. The French don't seem to be as hung up on class as us, and use such films to examine human nature and behaviour.
Anyway, Summer Hours was a treat. It's Helene's 70th birthday, and her 3 grown-up children and their families gather together in her country house, the family home. Helene is devoted, even obsessed with the memory of her uncle, a celebrated painter, and his works. She's a gracious lady who holds court in her extremely comfortable and well-appointed residence, though we become aware pretty quickly that there is a deep-rooted tension between each family member.
Helene dies - and the remainder of the film chronicles the adult children's wranglings over what to do with the house. The eldest wants to keep the property and Helene's art collection as something with which to hold the family together, but it's clear that his younger siblings aren't interested. One is off to China with his family to work, and the other is going to live in New York. The family is falling apart, but at the end the next generation gather at the house with their friends. Olivier Asseyas, the director, isn't interested in portraying nostalgia, though, and everyone's choices are seen as valid. He sees that times change, so do people and families. Those of us with grown-up children know all too well that families fracture, however close they seem. Differences are real, and often irreconcilable. We do our best, but everyone has their own very individual path.
I watched the latest instalment in the genealogy series on BBC last night, Who Do You Think You Are? It's an object lesson in the fissuring of families - sometimes events intercede, such as war and revolution, and there's nothing we can do about it.
Anyway, a film that has stayed with me. The final scenes, in which the children of the siblings and their friends hold an impromptu party at Helene's house, is filled with optimism. They run wild and care nothing for her art collection, but they are the future, like it or not.
It's one of those closely-observed portraits of modern bourgeois life that the French do so well - British versions, for example, Mike Leigh films, always seem to be satirical, laughing at middle-class pretensions. The French don't seem to be as hung up on class as us, and use such films to examine human nature and behaviour.
Anyway, Summer Hours was a treat. It's Helene's 70th birthday, and her 3 grown-up children and their families gather together in her country house, the family home. Helene is devoted, even obsessed with the memory of her uncle, a celebrated painter, and his works. She's a gracious lady who holds court in her extremely comfortable and well-appointed residence, though we become aware pretty quickly that there is a deep-rooted tension between each family member.
Helene dies - and the remainder of the film chronicles the adult children's wranglings over what to do with the house. The eldest wants to keep the property and Helene's art collection as something with which to hold the family together, but it's clear that his younger siblings aren't interested. One is off to China with his family to work, and the other is going to live in New York. The family is falling apart, but at the end the next generation gather at the house with their friends. Olivier Asseyas, the director, isn't interested in portraying nostalgia, though, and everyone's choices are seen as valid. He sees that times change, so do people and families. Those of us with grown-up children know all too well that families fracture, however close they seem. Differences are real, and often irreconcilable. We do our best, but everyone has their own very individual path.
I watched the latest instalment in the genealogy series on BBC last night, Who Do You Think You Are? It's an object lesson in the fissuring of families - sometimes events intercede, such as war and revolution, and there's nothing we can do about it.
Anyway, a film that has stayed with me. The final scenes, in which the children of the siblings and their friends hold an impromptu party at Helene's house, is filled with optimism. They run wild and care nothing for her art collection, but they are the future, like it or not.
Tuesday, 5 August 2008
The Dark Knight
I saw The Dark Knight a couple of days ago - it's the sequel to Batman Begins which came out in 2005. Both reboot the franchise, which had started promisingly in 1989 with the Tim Burton films, then degenerated horribly, reaching its nadir with Batman and Robin. In didn't see that one, but it's dreadfulness was legendary, nearly scuppering George Clooney's caree before it had properly begun.
Anyway, I thought Batman Begins was tremendous, and I enjoyed it enormously. For a start, Christian Bale (one of my favourites) played the caped crusader, and it possessed a compelling atmosphere of dingy menace. I found the DVD on my shelf - I think it belongs to one of my sons - so I took the opportunity to see it again to get myself into the mood for The Dark Knight.
The Dark Knight will, first of all, go down in history as one of Heath Ledger's last films before he was found dead from an accidental overdose of prescription drugs. I always hesitate to use the word 'tragedy', and in the scheme of things, a well-heeled Hollywood/Aussie star crashing and burning is not the most pressing of issues. But Ledger had been showing signs for a while that he was moving away from routine leading man parts (see his performance in I'm Not There) and was becoming an extremely interesting actor, choosing parts which stretched and challenged him.
His performance as the Joker is superb; seriously scary. He really is someone with no moral compass on any level and knows it: 'Do I look like I have a plan? I’m just a dog chasing cars…I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I caught it. I just…do things.' My only criticism is there's not quite enough of him, but whenever he does appear the temperature visibly rises. His make-up is not designed to be amusing, but cadaverous, as if he's just been dug up.
Batman isn't much in evidence in this film - he's shown as seriously weakened by the Joker, and in many scenes, he's vulnerable and damaged. Bale has refined his portrayal somewhat, darkening and deepening his voice whenever he dons mask and cape.
This film has proved pretty controversial in this country due to its 12A cerificate, which allows children of any age to see it if accompanied by an adult. Many believe it should have been a 15 - I don't know, I can see their point, but I know that I would have allowed my children to see it. I once discovered that one of my sons at the age of 4, back in the very early 80s when videos were only just beginning to invade private homes, had happily watched a copy of Dirty Harry round at a friend's house. The friend's father had bought it and allowed the children to see it. So what can you do? It hasn't turned him into a raging psychopath, just a lifelong Clint Eastwood fan! In the end, I believe that it's always down to the parents to create the kind of atmosphere and environment at home that can withstand assaults on their values.
Anyway, I don't know how long this incarnation of Batman can run. Bale is certainly capable of much more, as is Christopher Nolan, who directed both films. Bale has been catapulted into 'A'-list territory, so we'll see - anyway, in my view an excellent summer blockbuster, though the cinema was pretty empty when I went. It's dark, dark, dark, both visually and thematically, perhaps too much so for popular taste, but apparently it's been a huge hit financially, and we all know, that's what matters.
.
Anyway, I thought Batman Begins was tremendous, and I enjoyed it enormously. For a start, Christian Bale (one of my favourites) played the caped crusader, and it possessed a compelling atmosphere of dingy menace. I found the DVD on my shelf - I think it belongs to one of my sons - so I took the opportunity to see it again to get myself into the mood for The Dark Knight.
The Dark Knight will, first of all, go down in history as one of Heath Ledger's last films before he was found dead from an accidental overdose of prescription drugs. I always hesitate to use the word 'tragedy', and in the scheme of things, a well-heeled Hollywood/Aussie star crashing and burning is not the most pressing of issues. But Ledger had been showing signs for a while that he was moving away from routine leading man parts (see his performance in I'm Not There) and was becoming an extremely interesting actor, choosing parts which stretched and challenged him.
His performance as the Joker is superb; seriously scary. He really is someone with no moral compass on any level and knows it: 'Do I look like I have a plan? I’m just a dog chasing cars…I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I caught it. I just…do things.' My only criticism is there's not quite enough of him, but whenever he does appear the temperature visibly rises. His make-up is not designed to be amusing, but cadaverous, as if he's just been dug up.
Batman isn't much in evidence in this film - he's shown as seriously weakened by the Joker, and in many scenes, he's vulnerable and damaged. Bale has refined his portrayal somewhat, darkening and deepening his voice whenever he dons mask and cape.
This film has proved pretty controversial in this country due to its 12A cerificate, which allows children of any age to see it if accompanied by an adult. Many believe it should have been a 15 - I don't know, I can see their point, but I know that I would have allowed my children to see it. I once discovered that one of my sons at the age of 4, back in the very early 80s when videos were only just beginning to invade private homes, had happily watched a copy of Dirty Harry round at a friend's house. The friend's father had bought it and allowed the children to see it. So what can you do? It hasn't turned him into a raging psychopath, just a lifelong Clint Eastwood fan! In the end, I believe that it's always down to the parents to create the kind of atmosphere and environment at home that can withstand assaults on their values.
Anyway, I don't know how long this incarnation of Batman can run. Bale is certainly capable of much more, as is Christopher Nolan, who directed both films. Bale has been catapulted into 'A'-list territory, so we'll see - anyway, in my view an excellent summer blockbuster, though the cinema was pretty empty when I went. It's dark, dark, dark, both visually and thematically, perhaps too much so for popular taste, but apparently it's been a huge hit financially, and we all know, that's what matters.
.
Sunday, 13 July 2008
Accident
I watched Accident the other day - a British film directed by Joseph Losey and released in 1967 and now vanished into the cinematic ether. I'd videotaped it years ago but had never watched it, so was catching up.
I remember going to see it when it was first released (I used to see practically everything in those days) but hadn't seen it since, so it was an intriguing experience, rather like revisiting the scenes of one's childhood. I can't remember what certificate it was, but I obviously managed to get in without any problems if it was an X. I do remember that it was a pretty notorious film at the time, with its sex scenes, and 'permissive' (in the parlance of the time) attitudes, and of course it featured Dirk Bogarde and Stanley Baker, both 'A' list British actors who were attempting to reinvent themselves after a decade or so making endless war movies, and in Bogarde's case, Fifties froth such as Doctor in the House. Part of this process involved working for Losey, for whom both he and Baker had already worked. Losey, an American, was a director of some distinction, who had come to Britain after being blacklisted by Joseph McCarthy, and, after starting with potboilers, proceeded to make films which became increasingly more complex and intriguing as the British Sixties film boom took hold.
The 60s saw the beginnings of the sexual revolution, which was depicted in films as consisting of predatory men and submissive and available women. Accident was no exception, though it did take a more nuanced view, showing Bogarde as tormented and confused by women, and the Baker character as opportunistic and callous.
Seeing the film now was a strange experience. I can't remember what I thought of it in the 60s, but this time I found it brought up a great many memories. I think it's the Oxford setting that did it - it caught the atmosphere of the time perfectly. Claustrophobic, with beautiful women, pretending to be enigmatic by whom one always felt threatened. It somehow captured the feeling of the period - I found myself remembering long-forgotten parties in sprawling suburban houses I'd never been to on the edge of Oxford. We'd hear there was something going on - that someone's parents were away, we'd all pile in someone's Morris Minor and rush off to God knows where for a party which almost invariably turned out to be a disappointment.
I suppose that's what adolescence is all about - excitement, uncertainty and let-down. You thrive on the rush, the buzz and it doesn't matter really about the outcome, though occasionly you'd get lucky, and meet someone, or actually have a good time.
Anyway, it really is a peculiar little film. It was obviously made pretty cheaply, but Losey makes the most of what he's got. There are several long takes of Bogarde's country house scattered throughout the film, and there's a rather unsettling lack of music, I suppose the cinemtic equivalent of Pinter's famous silences.
An interesting experience. People get all nostalgic about the 60s, but not me. I prefer the 70s, that supposedly God-forsaken decade. I was older, happier, wiser - and the music was better!
I remember going to see it when it was first released (I used to see practically everything in those days) but hadn't seen it since, so it was an intriguing experience, rather like revisiting the scenes of one's childhood. I can't remember what certificate it was, but I obviously managed to get in without any problems if it was an X. I do remember that it was a pretty notorious film at the time, with its sex scenes, and 'permissive' (in the parlance of the time) attitudes, and of course it featured Dirk Bogarde and Stanley Baker, both 'A' list British actors who were attempting to reinvent themselves after a decade or so making endless war movies, and in Bogarde's case, Fifties froth such as Doctor in the House. Part of this process involved working for Losey, for whom both he and Baker had already worked. Losey, an American, was a director of some distinction, who had come to Britain after being blacklisted by Joseph McCarthy, and, after starting with potboilers, proceeded to make films which became increasingly more complex and intriguing as the British Sixties film boom took hold.
The 60s saw the beginnings of the sexual revolution, which was depicted in films as consisting of predatory men and submissive and available women. Accident was no exception, though it did take a more nuanced view, showing Bogarde as tormented and confused by women, and the Baker character as opportunistic and callous.
Seeing the film now was a strange experience. I can't remember what I thought of it in the 60s, but this time I found it brought up a great many memories. I think it's the Oxford setting that did it - it caught the atmosphere of the time perfectly. Claustrophobic, with beautiful women, pretending to be enigmatic by whom one always felt threatened. It somehow captured the feeling of the period - I found myself remembering long-forgotten parties in sprawling suburban houses I'd never been to on the edge of Oxford. We'd hear there was something going on - that someone's parents were away, we'd all pile in someone's Morris Minor and rush off to God knows where for a party which almost invariably turned out to be a disappointment.
I suppose that's what adolescence is all about - excitement, uncertainty and let-down. You thrive on the rush, the buzz and it doesn't matter really about the outcome, though occasionly you'd get lucky, and meet someone, or actually have a good time.
Anyway, it really is a peculiar little film. It was obviously made pretty cheaply, but Losey makes the most of what he's got. There are several long takes of Bogarde's country house scattered throughout the film, and there's a rather unsettling lack of music, I suppose the cinemtic equivalent of Pinter's famous silences.
An interesting experience. People get all nostalgic about the 60s, but not me. I prefer the 70s, that supposedly God-forsaken decade. I was older, happier, wiser - and the music was better!
Wednesday, 25 June 2008
In Search of the Midnight Kiss
I went to see this the other day, and enjoyed it very much. It's a tiny, low-budget film, made in black-and-white; very much in the mould of Before Sunrise/Before Sunset; clearly a major influence. 2 people, a young man and young women, meet up by chance on New Year's Eve, and wander the streets of Los Angeles all night. And that's basically it. It sounds simple, and it is, but it's a funny, touching picture of how people actually talk and behave, and how city streets actually are, not how they appear in movies.
Wilson, an impoverished and miserable aspiring screenwriter, posts a personal ad online, and meets up with Vivian, an aspiring actress on New Year's Eve. She's brash, challenging but beautiful, and they walk the streets of LA. There's plenty of funny, spiky dialogue, and I was able to enjoy my penchant for city streetscapes at night.
It gives us a very different view of the Los Angeles we know from TV and the movies - it's an unfamiliar LA, with small shops and grungy apartments. It shows us that ordinary people do live there, living ordinary non-Hollywood lives. It's not just a film set. This is underscored by a shot of the famous HOLLYWOOD letters up on the hills outside the city which pops up intermittently. There are no stars in this film, just people.
Anyway, it's a film which, in spite of its small scale, resonated. It's about something which concerns us all, and as the blurb which was handed out at the cinema tells us, 'the nature of romance in the age of texting, Facebook and MySpace'. But, as the blurb also noted, the film has 'a classic, timeless feel'. It mentions the cinematography - it's shot in black and white, which instantly gives it an extra edge, and disguises the low budget.
I loved it, and hope for more from this director. Very refreshing.
Wilson, an impoverished and miserable aspiring screenwriter, posts a personal ad online, and meets up with Vivian, an aspiring actress on New Year's Eve. She's brash, challenging but beautiful, and they walk the streets of LA. There's plenty of funny, spiky dialogue, and I was able to enjoy my penchant for city streetscapes at night.
It gives us a very different view of the Los Angeles we know from TV and the movies - it's an unfamiliar LA, with small shops and grungy apartments. It shows us that ordinary people do live there, living ordinary non-Hollywood lives. It's not just a film set. This is underscored by a shot of the famous HOLLYWOOD letters up on the hills outside the city which pops up intermittently. There are no stars in this film, just people.
Anyway, it's a film which, in spite of its small scale, resonated. It's about something which concerns us all, and as the blurb which was handed out at the cinema tells us, 'the nature of romance in the age of texting, Facebook and MySpace'. But, as the blurb also noted, the film has 'a classic, timeless feel'. It mentions the cinematography - it's shot in black and white, which instantly gives it an extra edge, and disguises the low budget.
I loved it, and hope for more from this director. Very refreshing.
Tuesday, 20 May 2008
We Are Together
I went to see We Are Together last week, a film about a children's choir in an orphanage in a South African township. It's an inspiring story, and very moving; the children are mostly AIDS orphans, and the film follows their progress as they overcome all sorts of difficulties, most of which would be unimaginable to Western children.
In the course of the film, Slindile, who turns out to be a wonderful singer, suffers the death of her older brother from AIDS whhich has already carried off her parents. You get to see her sorrow, resignation, but also incredible powers of endurance, as she eventually gets to New York, along with the others from the orphanage, to perform with Paul Simon and Alysha Keys.
It's a feel-good film and has been criticised for it, but I can't see that it's anything but inspirational. We are far too complacent about the little frustrations and hardships that come our way, and although there's not a lot we can do about global poverty and AIDS, its instructive to be reminded of out good fortune, and to know that we can, and must live more frugally and humbly.
Anyway, sermon over - it's an entertaining film, well put together. It was only on for a week in Bristol but the cinema was packed for the late-afternoon showing. Perhaps if the cinema chain had had a bit more faith more people would have seen it - it's the sort of word-of-mouth film that builds an audience a bit more slowly than distributers like, but can pack people in for weeks if they get the chance.
In the course of the film, Slindile, who turns out to be a wonderful singer, suffers the death of her older brother from AIDS whhich has already carried off her parents. You get to see her sorrow, resignation, but also incredible powers of endurance, as she eventually gets to New York, along with the others from the orphanage, to perform with Paul Simon and Alysha Keys.
It's a feel-good film and has been criticised for it, but I can't see that it's anything but inspirational. We are far too complacent about the little frustrations and hardships that come our way, and although there's not a lot we can do about global poverty and AIDS, its instructive to be reminded of out good fortune, and to know that we can, and must live more frugally and humbly.
Anyway, sermon over - it's an entertaining film, well put together. It was only on for a week in Bristol but the cinema was packed for the late-afternoon showing. Perhaps if the cinema chain had had a bit more faith more people would have seen it - it's the sort of word-of-mouth film that builds an audience a bit more slowly than distributers like, but can pack people in for weeks if they get the chance.
Thursday, 1 May 2008
Ken Loach
Ken Loach is another British director (see Mike Leigh) who stimulates ambivalent feelings in me. Why? He's a national treasure, a living legend etc.etc., but I've sometimes found myself hating his films, for their schematic politics, predictability and unsympathetic characters. No doubt he would argue that this is because he sets out to challenge preconceptions and that this is uncomfortable for people, but the problem is that I don't find his films challenging, but predictable.
But we're talking about ambivalence, and there's a lot to appreciate in Loach's films. His methods - using untried actors, some of whom have gone on to greater things, as well as household names, and his resolute independence are admirable. And this is the trouble - one admires Loach's films, but finds it hard to love them. I'm sure he would say he doesn't want to be loved, that's not what he does, but I'm thinking of films you want to see over and over again, because they're just so damn good, endlessly stimulating, leaving you wanting more. Loach's films, however, interesting and politically challenging, don't do this. Again, I'm sure that's not his intention, but it means I don't automatically rush out to go and see his films at the cinema, as I would, say, a Scorsese film.
I did go and see The Wind That Shakes the Barley; that was good, and certainly Loach's films have become more nuanced in recent years. There's always an overriding theme, though, that ordinary people are endlessly betrayed by those in power and always will be. I find there's a deep pessimism at the heart of Loach's films, even when there's an ostensible message of hope. Betrayal is inevitable.
This was most strongly expressed in Land and Freedom. It was my most recent rental from Amazon - I'd never seen it, and had always wanted to, so decided that it was about time I caught up with it. It was the first (I think) of Loach's ventures into history, as he decided to address the Spanish Civil War. This is pretty much virgin territory for filmmakers, scandalously, really, as it's a fascinating subject, full of possibilities. Perhaps it's because it's not a straightforwardly simple situation, the various factions, and, of course, there are large helpings of betrayal.
George Orwell's Homage to Catalonia is the only book I can think of by someone who was actually there, and, Loach's film has prompted me to revisit it, so I'll be catching up on it soon, digging out my old, faded, Penguin copy. Orwell joined the POUM, the anarchist grouping who were shafted by the Communists, and Land and Freedom focuses on a band of POUM members. They're a feisty bunch, and there's an American fighting with them, and guess what? He's the one who argues that they need to join up with the Communists, that they're finished, and he does just that. You can see it all coming, and it's inevitable that it's an American who does it, not the noble working-class Liverpudlian, played by Ian Harte, whose story is at the heart of the film. The POUM members are passionate, and are a mixed bag of firebrands and more sober souls, but their hearts are in the right place. Of course, the Communist s, funded by Stalinist Russia, overwhelmed any outbursts of individuality in the Civil War, and they're a doomed little band of brothers. All is lost, but they go down nobly. I enjoyed it, but a Loach film is essentially a cerebral experience.
It's left me feeling that I must revisit his earlier stuff, but what I really want to see is his famous Days of Hope TV serial, firat broadcast in the late 1970s. I missed it when it was on, and, although it was celebrated at the time, it was extremely controversial, and has since sunk without trace. A DVD special edition is long overdue - come on BFI!
But we're talking about ambivalence, and there's a lot to appreciate in Loach's films. His methods - using untried actors, some of whom have gone on to greater things, as well as household names, and his resolute independence are admirable. And this is the trouble - one admires Loach's films, but finds it hard to love them. I'm sure he would say he doesn't want to be loved, that's not what he does, but I'm thinking of films you want to see over and over again, because they're just so damn good, endlessly stimulating, leaving you wanting more. Loach's films, however, interesting and politically challenging, don't do this. Again, I'm sure that's not his intention, but it means I don't automatically rush out to go and see his films at the cinema, as I would, say, a Scorsese film.
I did go and see The Wind That Shakes the Barley; that was good, and certainly Loach's films have become more nuanced in recent years. There's always an overriding theme, though, that ordinary people are endlessly betrayed by those in power and always will be. I find there's a deep pessimism at the heart of Loach's films, even when there's an ostensible message of hope. Betrayal is inevitable.
This was most strongly expressed in Land and Freedom. It was my most recent rental from Amazon - I'd never seen it, and had always wanted to, so decided that it was about time I caught up with it. It was the first (I think) of Loach's ventures into history, as he decided to address the Spanish Civil War. This is pretty much virgin territory for filmmakers, scandalously, really, as it's a fascinating subject, full of possibilities. Perhaps it's because it's not a straightforwardly simple situation, the various factions, and, of course, there are large helpings of betrayal.
George Orwell's Homage to Catalonia is the only book I can think of by someone who was actually there, and, Loach's film has prompted me to revisit it, so I'll be catching up on it soon, digging out my old, faded, Penguin copy. Orwell joined the POUM, the anarchist grouping who were shafted by the Communists, and Land and Freedom focuses on a band of POUM members. They're a feisty bunch, and there's an American fighting with them, and guess what? He's the one who argues that they need to join up with the Communists, that they're finished, and he does just that. You can see it all coming, and it's inevitable that it's an American who does it, not the noble working-class Liverpudlian, played by Ian Harte, whose story is at the heart of the film. The POUM members are passionate, and are a mixed bag of firebrands and more sober souls, but their hearts are in the right place. Of course, the Communist s, funded by Stalinist Russia, overwhelmed any outbursts of individuality in the Civil War, and they're a doomed little band of brothers. All is lost, but they go down nobly. I enjoyed it, but a Loach film is essentially a cerebral experience.
It's left me feeling that I must revisit his earlier stuff, but what I really want to see is his famous Days of Hope TV serial, firat broadcast in the late 1970s. I missed it when it was on, and, although it was celebrated at the time, it was extremely controversial, and has since sunk without trace. A DVD special edition is long overdue - come on BFI!
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.
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