Five Again Take Three.

Take Three of about a million and a half, at this rate. I've watched four more films since the last one, so I'm not really getting far ahead...

This was unexpected. I've watched most of David Lynch's films (with Eraserhead coming up, it leaves Inland Empire and Dune as the only two features left - I finished reading Dune a month or two ago, so I'll have to hit that up some time.) Known for his crazy, dense, almost incomprehensible films, The Straight Story was a blast from left-field for Lynch, being, as it were, a straight story. Simply, it is the story of Alvin Straight, an old man who travels six weeks on a ride-on lawnmower to visit his dying estranged brother. Going blind and with only minor use of his legs, it is a heartwarming story of tenacity and family, and the personal rewards that come from doing something everyone says you can't. Richard Farnsworth was Academy Award nominated for his role, and was backed up very well by Sissy Spacek as his mentally disabled but very bright and caring daughter. A beautiful story well told, and a surprising entry into David Lynch's catalogue, further cementing his 'great' status. 4 stars.

The DVD for Brighton Rock was another floating around the living room when I didn't have anything to watch, and I'd heard something about the remake in the preceding few days, so I thought I'd check it out. And it was quite good. A very young Richard Attenborough takes on the lead role of Pinkie in this inter-war crime film set in the eponymous English seaside town of Brighton. Pinkie is the precocious leader of his gang, showing very little fear in the face of anything that comes his way, who marries beautiful waitress Rose (Carol Marsh) to keep her quiet. As he starts to lose his grip on his gang and on the Brighton scene, he becomes more and more desperate and violent. Attenborough is terrifying in his role, precipitating a long and fruitful career both in front of and behind the camera. The remake (or should I say readaptation of Graham Greene's source novel) doesn't seem to be getting the same props as this 1947 production, so it's well worth checking out. 4 stars.



Ah, Harmony Korine and Lars von Trier. Dogme 95 was previously explored here, and looked at Korine here. Korine (uncredited) was writer and director on Julien Donkey Boy, the sixth entry in the Dogme 95 movement, about a severely dysfunctional family comprised of undiagnosed schizophrenic Julien (Ewen Bremner), his sister Pearl (Chloe Sevigny) who is also carrying Julien's child, his brother Chris (Evan Neumann) and deranged father (Werner Herzog - brilliant.) It's a wholly disturbing film complete with the Dogme look of verging-on-amateur, though the gravity of the story and depth of the performances ensures you're never fooled into believing this is anything but the real thing. Korine has a way of making films that are quite physically unsettling, and I find them often quite hard to sit through, though that isn't to take away from the power of his stories. 3 stars.

1969 - what a year. Costa-Gavras' Z powered into the Oscars with five nominations, including for both Foreign Language Film and Best Picture, taking home both the former and Best Editing. A not-so-subtle indictment of the Greek government at the time (though officially a work of fiction, I believe, with a starting disclaimer that any resemblance to real life is entirely deliberate), the film examines judicial and governmental moves to silence a burgeoning leftist movement in the unnamed country (again, definitely meant to be Greece, though the film was primarily shot in Algiers and is in French...) It's a brilliant piece of filmmaking, throttling the viewer with its viewpoint and forcing your engagement every step of the way. I'm not familiar with the rest of Gavras' work, but I'm definitely keen to rectify that. 5 stars.

In my head, 24 Hour Party People was a totally different film. I can't think now of what I was getting it confused with, but it certainly wasn't what I watched, which is why I put it off for so long. The story of the Manchester club and music scene in the late 80s and early 90s, the film primarily focuses on Tony Wilson (Steve Coogan), a journalist who becomes a budding promoter and club owner, brought up and down by his own hedonistic decadence and belief in himself, at the same time seeming to compromise the very vision he pioneered and propagated. Looking also at the rise and fall of bands such as Joy Division, Happy Mondays and New Order, it is a fascinating and very entertaining look at this time, filled with frequent fourth wall breakages to insert actual memories and commentary on the time. Director Michael Winterbottom and writer Frank Cottrell Boyce both work splendidly to create this masterful biopic of an era, as told through one man. 4.5 stars.

Long Time...

Right, a few things have happened. I've moved to Berlin. It had been in the cards, but it then all became concrete in a very short space of time, and then I left, and then I had to find a place to live, and now I have and I'm in Berlin and I love Berlin and I am only here for a couple of months so I'm going to try and make the most of it. Of course, I love films, so they are going to keep popping up, but there's no way I'm going to hit my target of 365 over a year - I'll be very lucky to hit 270 I think. Still, a good effort considering.


I'm also way behind on writeups, so I'm going to give some very brief notes on all of those that I'm behind on over the next few entries, spreading them out a little.


First things first:

I'd never seen Oliver Stone's Wall Street until recently. Never. It had always kind of drifted around wanting me to watch it, always there hovering somewhere in the middle of the list of titles I want to pick up. Probably due to the recent release of the sequel I finally got it out. I gotta say, I didn't overly love it. Michael Douglas' performance in it was fine, but even that didn't really wow me. Strong, yes, but not mind-blowing. Some good moments, the 'greed' speech being obvious, but I've never much liked Charlie Sheen either. That phone of Gordon's is hilarious. And sure, it was entertaining enough, towards the lower level of enjoyment. Let's go with 2 stars.

I saw Inception right when it came out in the UK (that's how far behind I was to start, and then the last almost month in Berlin has taken even further behind...) and came out of it really, really liking it. Visually amazing, though goddammit I want to see Leonardo DiCaprio smile at some stage soon - after Shutter Island and then this I'm so tired of his furrowed brow, and I know he can do other things. Joseph Gordon Levitt (future husband) I loved, but I'll love him in pretty much anything, and Tom Hardy gave his character a difference to what one might imagine for his Hollywood breakout - his Bronson promise will hopefully come good. I thought the film as a whole was very cerebral, very clever, but lacked an emotional core. I sense that the Marion Cotillard segments were aiming for it, but I don't think Christopher Nolan managed to pull that off. Now that I think about it, his films always seem a little detached from the heart. It is a terrific film, a very showy piece that doesn't go over the top, and what it does show, it shows well. I don't understand how people found it confusing - if you're paying even half the attention any film deserves, they spell it out pretty clearly as to which dream layer you're in. Very good, but not great, and a couple of months on my desire to rewatch that was very strong after exiting the theatre has become a general feeling that it's not necessary for me to go there again any time soon. Very entertaining, but not earth-shattering. 4 stars.

I was alive in the 1980s, but only just, and I've never much liked the period. It's only recently that the fashion, the music, the general vibe of the decade hasn't grated on me, so I'm putting the blame for having never seen The Breakfast Club right in the court of the 80s in general. John Hughes' seminal teen flick starring Emilio Estevez, Judd Nelson, Molly Ringwals and Ally Sheedy was fun to watch with its broad characterisations and strong stereotypes. As a basic introduction to cliques and generalised judgements of character it works well by keeping it light while introducing us to the characters. Maybe if my viewing of it had been more timely, instead of twenty-five years after the initial release, my opinion would be different. Maybe if I sat down and laughed and watched it with friends I'd have enjoyed it more. That being said, it was fun, but it's not in my own personal canon. 2.5 stars.

Melissa Leo gives a tour de force performance in Courtney Hunt's debut feature Frozen River, which won the Dramatic Prize at Sundance in 2008 and netted Leo a deserved Oscar nomination for Best Actress. Leo is single mother trying to get together the money to pay for her new double wide before the cut off date when she loses her deposit when luck finds her united with a native American people smuggler. On the border of the US and Canadia, the pair take people back and forth between two reservations on opposite sides of the frozen river that is the national border. It's a marvelous story of what two different women will do for their children in very different circumstances. I wasn't a huge fan of the ending, it all felt a little 'righteous Hollywood', but there's no denying the power of Leo's performance. Hunt is surely someone to watch. 3 stars.

When I saw that Caligula was the next film on my list I did kind of laugh out loud. This film is a fucking mess, but a brilliant and hilarious mess nonetheless. It was only after the fact that I realised there are about a trillion different cuts out there, and I saw the tamest, shortest one. I'm half inspired to go and find the original 7000 minute version or whatever, but then I also remember how bad this was, and despite the camp hilarity, do I really want to do that again? Though the cast is terrific - Peter O'Toole, Malcolm McDowell, Helen Mirren, John Gielgud - it is a ham-fisted mess, apparently directed by Tinto Brass though with financing from Penthouse's Bob Guccione really directing the themes of the film and what goes on screen. Caligula is the young heir to the Roman throne, and after doing away with his predecessor takes over, becoming quite popular despite his eccentricities. There's a bunch of debauchery involved. There is incest and intrigue and coercion, and finally Caligula is murdered. It really is a terrible film, but so terrible as to be almost entirely watchable. I will one day hunt down the longer version. 1 star.

I Humbly Beg You, Show Mercy To These Men.

In all my years, to never have watched Paths Of Glory. I can understand my reticence to pick up Barry Lyndon, it looking so unlike the Kubrick we all know and love, but to ignore his breakout film? The film that got him the Spartacus gig? Which in turn allowed him to go on to be possibly the greatest filmmaker to have lived? For shame. 


But now rectified!

Paths of Glory wasn't Kubrick's first feature (that honour belongs to either The Killing or Killer's Kiss, depending on whether you count the latter as a feature due to its run time - which in turn probably depends on the version you're watching), but it was his first to really make people sit up and take notice. I'm sure no small part of this is due to the casting of Kirk Douglas, who was just about to receive his third Oscar nomination in less than a decade - though not for this film.


Douglas plays Colonel Dax of the French military, commanding troops against the Germans in the First World War. General Broulard (Adolphe Menjou) orders his subordinate General Mireau (George Macready) to send his troops on what will effectively be a suicide mission to capture the strategically important Anthill. Mireau in turn orders Dax to take charge of this operation, having had his opinion swayed by the promise of promotion. Dax resists but eventually follows orders, leading his troops onto open ground where the majority are promptly slaughtered. Some troops even refuse to leave the trench, under such heavy fire that they know they will get nowhere, inspiring Mireau to order his artillery men to open fire on his own troops to inspire them to charge. The artillery men refuse without written orders (as is protocol), infuriating Mireau, who decides to execute 100 of them for treachery. Broulard manages to convince him that three would be enough, one from each company, to make an example.


The three are selected for various reasons - one to cover up a grave error by his superior; another because he is a 'social undesirable'; and a third just by pure bad luck, despite the fact that he is a valiant and courageous soldier. Dax, a lawyer in the civilian world and outraged by what is happening considering the suicidal mission they were all sent on, takes it upon himself to defend themselves in the court martial that is convened to try them. The court martial is a preposterous affair, however, and branded such by Dax, who fails to get the men off. Dax does repeatedly try, submitting further evidence to Broulard in order to try and sway for clemency, but he fails every step of the way. Ultimately, Broulard offers Dax the promotion he was going to give Mireau (after indicting Mireau for the order to attack his own men), prompting Dax to violently challenge Broulard on his assertion that this was all in order to move up the ranks - Dax has always had his men's best interest at heart, and is disgusted by any inference to the contrary.


It is a powerful premise and a terrifically executed story. Douglas is magnificently torn and conflicted, struggling with navigating his own best interests, those of his men, and how best to make his way through the intricate labyrinth of the hierarchy of military life. He knows it is unfair, but he also knows kicking and screaming means nothing in the army. If proper protocol isn't followed you may as well just hand yourself over for a misconduct charge.


Menjou, Macready and the entire support cast perform very well. The three men on trial present entirely opposite faces to the world, perfectly matched to provide a snapshot of human nature in the microcosm of an army jail, and  played wonderfully. 


Shot in and around Germany, with Americans playing French military, it is a little discombobulating to watch at times, but a little suspension of disbelief allows you to fall into the world Kubrick has created. Maybe not entirely, but as discussed before (here, here and here), he never truly lets you fully into the sphere of the film, instead too happy to keep this world at arm's length from the audience. In this world the maestro is unafraid to show off the stylistic flourishes that would become his trademarks - the faces, the tracking shots, the thematic struggles - all in the wonderfully constructed world of trench warfare and palatial court-martials. 


A riveting film in every way, Kubrick did more than make his mark with this film - he shouted to the world that he is here, and he is not going to stop. And thank god for that. 5 stars.

No. No Booze. Sex. I Want Sex.

Well, a hugely grossing comedy (at the time) and your first (of seven) Oscar nominations is a pretty good way to break out, really, isn't it? Robert Altman really made a name for himself with MASH, kicking off a long and generally acclaimed (and very prolific) career with a huge fight with his studio - well done. But the film that came out of the scandal did nab an adapted screenplay Oscar, with four other noms.

The initials MASH stand for Mobile Army Surgical Hospital, and the film takes place in one on the frontlines of the Korean War - despite Altman removing all references to Korea in the hope that the setting would be mistaken for Vietnam, which was still raging at the time, Fox insisted on an opening crawl identifying the location. The film, like the subsequent television series, is episodic, so while the story revolves around new arrivals Hawkeye (Donald Sutherland) and Duke (Tom Skerritt) and their hijinks and exploits in and around the camp, there are a number of smaller, distinct and complete storylines that are interspersed and feed into this overarching narrative. Sally Kellerman picked up a supporting actress nod for her role as the new head nurse, quickly dubbed 'Hot Lips' O'Houlihan after exploits with Hawkeye and Duke's tent-mate Major Frank Burns (Robert Duvall), who otherwise thoroughly disagrees with the new pair's debauched womanising and drinking ways.


While the film is a comedy, there are some moving moments in it, as would be expected within a war film, and they are deftly handled by Altman and his cast (many of whom, outside the big names, were releatively inexperienced within film and were brought in due to their experience with adlibbing in clubs), including a story about a Polish dental surgeon who is depressed due to the fact that he has a very large penis and this means won't sleep with him, and this depression turns to suicidal desires. Our protagonists organise a fake suicide for him, and then organise for a nurse to sleep with him that night, thereby curing his depression. While broadly comic, the sentiment is touching.


The performances are very good, including a turn from Elliott Gould as Trapper, the third part of the Hawkeye/Duke machine. Altman, ever innovative, used overlapping dialogue from as many as four parallel conversations to bring across the messiness and confusion of war, something that worked extremely well, adding realism to the surreality of the comic placement. A grimy looking set was perfect, again dragging the film back to reality, with the operating scenes suitably gory, despite the disrespectful laughter forced out of you at every turn.

A truly entertaining anti-war film set within a war, Altman deservedly made a name for himself that would live on for three more decades and bring with it many more classic titles. 4.5 stars.

I Loved The Taste Of Blood Since I Tasted Yours.

I derive joy from simple pleasures. Like knowing that what is often thought of as the pioneering film of the French New Wave, Hiroshima, Mon Amour, was nominated for an Oscar. Strange it wasn't nominated for Foreign Language film (though that may well have to do with the submissions procedure), but for Best Original Screenplay for Marguerite Duras. Of course it lost (to Billy Wilder's The Apartment, which took home Best Picture also), but it did get a BAFTA (the UN Award - what the?)

Alain Resnais' 1959 masterpiece was widely acclaimed, coming around the same time as François Truffaut's The 400 Blows and just before Jean-Luc Godard's seminal A bout de souffle. Resnais brought in the jump cut between memory and present, as well as keeping his story of love in another country very simple. He (credited on imdb.com as Luis but given no name in the film, played by Eiji Okada) is an architect in Hiroshima, who was on active duty when the bomb hit, but whose family all lived in the city at the time. She (similarly, her name is Elle, played by Emmanuelle Riva) is an actress in Hiroshima for 36 hours only. The two begin a passionate affair despite the fact that they are each otherwise married. But the film doesn't focus on the words these two speak of and too each other so much as what is said about the city. It is almost as though Resnais and Duras are attempting to heal the damage done fourteen years earlier, using love as the bandaid. And it is beautiful. As the film progresses it seems entirely plausible that their feelings could possibly undo all of the damage bestowed upon the city.


Of course it can't, and in the final scene, which heavily references Casablanca, it becomes apparent that all good things must come to an end. But, like Casablanca, the memories will last a lifetime - they may not have started a beautiful friendship, but they will forever hold in their hearts the few hours they spent in carnal embrace, discussing the world and their names as cities.


The Japanese sections in particular were beautifully captured by Michio Takahashi (the French segments captured as flashback and memory by She were shot by Sacha Vierny), and the whole film wove its way into my consciousness like not many can. Resnais' crafting of the structure, and the way it was all cut together by a team, gave it a freshness that still holds firm fifty years later. The realness that somehow permeates through the artifice of the medium is striking - I do think it strange that the jumpcutting in this film and in A bout de souffle in fact seem to be the realest ways to portray humanity, despite the almost Brechtian selfawareness they by nature have.


It is a beautiful example of how simple cinema can be whilst saying absolute volumes. There is a good reason why this film is held up somewhere near the pinnacle of film. This is a film I look forward to revisiting time and time again, as I'm sure that every time something new shall shine through. 5 stars.

Don't Call Me Cock-Hole, Bitch!

In 2005 New Zealander Taika Waititi nabbed an Oscar nomination for his live action short Two Cars, One Night. I think it got a fair bit of attention in Australia because of the fact that we seemed to be having quite a run in the short film categories of the Oscars over that period, with Harvie Krumpet taking out the Short Animation award, Birthday Boy and The Mysterious Geographic Explorations Of Jasper Morello picking up nominations and Inja also getting a notice in the Live Action category, all between 2002 and 2005. And, as we know, when it comes to major awards, New Zealand has always qualified as Australia. It's how we roll.


So, when his debut feature Eagle vs Shark came out a couple of years later (having been worked through the Sundance labs in 2005), everyone was taking note, waiting to see what would happen. Not a lot did happen, and while I liked the film, I can't really say that I'm surprised by this. While it has been likened to Napoleon Dynamite, it is much deeper and less superficially comic, making it that much darker and harder to simply laugh at - rather, the laughter has to come from a place of identification, or else risk being that of one taking advantage of those in a much weaker position.

Lily (co-creator Loren Horsley) and Jarrod (Jemaine Clement) are awkward social misfits. Lily works at a fast food burger outlet, with a crush on Jarrod, who works in a gaming store and is more interested in Lily's co-worker. One day, when the co-worked is not in, Jarrod drops off an invite to a party he is holding. Lily dutifully passes the invite on, but when it is brushed off without even a glance she decides to attend the party herself, dressing up in the costume of her favourite animal (a shark) as requested on the invite. The party is attended by similar apparent misfits, and the party culminates in a video game competition, with Lily ending up competing in the final to Jarrod (dressed as an eagle - get it?), losing primarily because she spends much of the time staring at her crush.


So begins an awkward and seemingly ill-conceived relationship between sweet-hearted Lily, who is willing to put up with a lot of mistreatment, and selfish, confused and angry Jarrod, a compulsive liar who by his own admission is 'too complex.' As his complexity continues to rear its ugly head, however, Lily tires of putting up with it and determines to escape. Her determination is, however, thoroughly thwarted by a bus timetable, allowing for Jarrod's hard and created shell to collapse under the weight of his own fear, letting the scared little boy inside climb out.


The comparisons to Napoleon Dynamite are valid, but as mentioned there is a much deeper commentary on social pressure underlying Waititi's work. The laughs are derived from the same comedic realm, but where Dynamite's are heartier guffaws, Shark's tend to more reserved, tending to the sardonic or the relieved. The comedy is also very evenly spread - Waititi's script has been very well honed to reveal his characters gradually over the course of the film without there being a need for an expository act of somberness to give depth to otherwise under-realised characters.


That being said, the film did feel somewhat longer than its fairly short ninety minute runtime. The pace, while even, is slow, and the grouchiness of Jarrod coupled with the meekness of Lily are quite draining as prolonged thematic elements. In fact, there is very little in the way of light in the film, either light characters or laughs or storylines. For the most part, until the film begins its small arc to a conclusion, all of those introduced have similar problems or contributions to the world as our initial protagonists. And when the light does crack through as the film closes, it doesn't seem bright enough or long enough to truly lift the film up.


It is a great debut, obviously very intricately worked to arrive at the final product, incredibly lean. As a study of Waititi's abilities it works very well - it's a great little calling card that has obviously worked as his second feature Boy played at Sundance this year in the World Dramatic competition (Eagle vs Shark played in that competition also in 2007.) I will definitely be looking out for a chance to see Boy as soon as I can, because I'm sure Waititi has progressed leaps and bounds and that could only mean wonders for his sophomore effort. In the meantime, Eagle vs Shark is definitely worth a look, though don't expect fireworks. Solid and interesting, but not earth shattering. 3 stars.

That Scag And His Floozie, They're Gonna Die!

Man, scag is totally a word I have to introduce into my vocabulary.


A few years there was a terrific little Australian documentary called Not Quite Hollywood that looked at a particular period of Australian film apparently loved by Quentin Tarantino dubbed 'Ozploitation.' They were made in the days of the 10BA tax break for feature film investment, which, if my understanding of it is even vaguely correct, meant that you were almost guaranteed not to lose money on a film even approaching halfway decent - so long as it made some money at the box office you would probably come out even, bailed out by the tax office. So, with nothing to lose and the chance, even an outside chance, at a bunch of money rolling in, who wouldn't join in? And what happened was this movement of cheap films full of action and sex, many of which have been subsequently forgotten (most of them probably rightly so), but some of which have gone on to become enduring cinematic classics. Even if they were redubbed in the States so that the Australian accent wouldn't be heard, with much of the slang reworded, and with the original soundtrack not appearing Stateside until 2000.

I guess he does look pretty good in leather...

Mad Max was the debut feature from director George Miller (that's Dr George, to you), now an Oscar winner (and I honestly believe he is the only Ozploitation director with that claim to fame.) Conceived and written with the late Byron Kennedy, the film also helped to launch some American born but Australian trained actor, perhaps the only other direct descendant of the Ozploitation movement with Oscar on his mantle. You've probably heard of him, he's been back in the spotlight recently (though mostly for anti-semitism and domestic violence...) 


Mel Gibson plays the titular Max, a highway patrolman in the not too distant future of the Australian outback (looking very much like a slightly modern attempt on the eighties - oh, retro sci-fi! Just like Blade Runner.) This is a dystopian world, and gangs rule the highways - law and order is brutal and vengeful, much like the rage of the bad guys. Max, initially part of the game, soon tries to quit, afraid that he is going to become like one of the guys he chases only armed with the false moral protection of a badge, but is convinced to take a holiday to think it over. Whilst he is on holiday, the gangs strike back...


But we know it can't end all bad for our hero Max, because our Mel is in the next couple of Mad Max films (though apparently has nothing to do with the upcoming fourth project - and I forget, is that going ahead for sure? Do we want it to, really? Wouldn't it be nice seeing Dr Miller do something original again, rather than Mad Max 4, Happy Feet 2 and Babe the gazillion?)


Max is an iconic character in a very simple, futuristic western film. Mad Max as a film is not particularly challenging in any way - it is an Ozploitation film through and through in the sense that it approaches its genre gung-ho with its cheese on its sleeve and without any shame. Miller wants the film to go out on a stylistic limb, pushing boundaries of the glorification of violence, but in order to do that effectively yet still make a film broad enough to turn a profit he had to keep it thematically simple. This is not in any way a bad thing - the story drives forward relentlessly, charging ahead with guns literally blazing and cars flying through the air, not letting a low budget stop him from some spectacular crashes. And Gibson proves himself promising (though, I thought, falling short of mesmerising by a decent distance), worthy perhaps of his later following.


A highly entertaining, if somewhat lightweight, iconic piece of Australian cinematic history. Shame on me for letting it go this long. 4 stars.

If You're Not An Activist You're An Inactivist.

In the lead up to the Oscars earlier this year there did really only seem to be one title that would take out the Best Doco prize. The Cove won pretty much everything in the lead up, from critics awards to audience awards at Sundance and Sydney Film Fests. There were contenders of course (I've just watched Food, Inc., which was also very good and will be up on here soon) but The Cove seemed to just grab people and not let them go.

And it's a damned good film. Even excluding it being a documentary, it ranks among the best films of the year, narrative or otherwise. This isn't just a good documentary - it's a thrilling and terrifying motion picture.

Ric O'Barry was the trainer of the dolphins for the original Flipper television series. However, after one of his dolphins 'committed suicide' in his arms one day he suddenly turned around, becoming an advocate for dolphin freedom, despite all of the work he had put into them becoming such popular entertainment in captivity. To this end he is followed to a little town called Taiji in Japan, where he is very well known for his attempts to expose and stop not only the capturing of dolphins for use in dolphinariums, but also the horrific slaughter that takes place in a hidden cove surrounded by unforgiving cliffs and entirely sealed off from prying outside eyes.


Director Louie Psihoyos and O'Barry set about exposing the truth of what is going on. They are motivated not only by the animal rights aspect, but also the sever health issues associated with eating dolphin, which is being sold as whale meat around the country and is even being pushed into schools for lunches. Dolphin meat contains very, very high levels of mercury, and no one wants a repeat of the Minamata incident of the 1950s.


So, the pair assemble a crack team of various skills to set about capturing footage and sound of what is going on. They have the world champion freedivers, who are going to plant cameras and microphones under water. They have help from Industrial Light And Magic, making false rocks to hide cameras in. People help them smuggle in equipment that is really only for the American military. All of them pitch in, risking a lot including being arrested, to help Ric uncover the truth. And it is a shocking, shocking truth, very confronting.


Psihoyos has crafted a terrific film in The Cove, utilising the conventions of heist films and thrillers to keep you on the edge of your seat. Under cover of darkness, with cameras picking up heat to warn of approaching guards or police, with Ric playing decoy, the team go in to plant all of the items, and it is tense! It's tense like any Hollywood blockbuster would hope for, but then it's also real.


It was one of the more riveting documentaries I've watched, not reliant on the standard talking head because everything else they're doing is so damned interesting. There is just so much intrigue and action going on. A remarkable achievement.


And, it must be said, I went to my supermarket a few days later to buy salmon and caught myself making sure it was farmed, worrying about whether or not I should be eating it at all, thinking about dolphins screaming underwater. It was a good film with a message that resonated deeply and strongly, and will continue to do so, I hope, for a long, long time. 5 stars.

Let Me Tell You About My Mother.

OK, I watched this one ages ago and forgot to put it on my list, and so have only just remembered it. Still have to put something in for it, though!


I think I'm going to need to watch Blade Runner again. It's another film that's been on my list for years - I studied film noir back in uni and as part of that looked at neo-noir and its presence through the last fifty or sixty years of filmmaking, which of course featured Ridley Scott's 1982 film. But I never got around to watching it (like so many of the films that I wrote about... seriously, I wrote essays on any number of films that I have never seen, and got good marks for them too. The power of the online journal. But now I'm trying to make amends.)

But yes, Blade Runner. I finished it and wondered what all of the fuss is about. Which is why I think I have to watch it again. Because, I must be honest, I watched it in two parts. I started watching it when utterly exhausted and part way through I realised I had no idea what was going on and just needed to sleep. So the next day I started it from where I could remember what was happening, but in retrospect I'm not entirely sure I did remember all that had come before my break. I think I should have started from the beginning. But I didn't. So this is what I have to play with.


It is 2019 and Los Angeles is a dank megalopolis, a dirty grey hulking mass of city dominated by the headquarters for the Tyrell Corporation, a company who manufacture 'replicants', humanoid robots used to replace humans in dangerous or less desirable areas. These replicants are not allowed on Earth, but for the occasions where they manage to find their way back there exist 'blade runners', cops tasked with tracking them down and retiring them. Harrison Ford plays Rick Deckard, presumably one of the better blade runners out there, who is brought back in from semi-retirement with one last job to do.


The latest version of replicant is so advanced that they are developing emotion - this ain't good. However, the Tyrell Corporation foresaw the possibility of this occurring and as such installed a fail-safe device in all replicants - a four year lifespan. But these newest versions, they're developing emotions pretty damned fast, and three of them (Roy [Rutger Hauer], Zhora [Joanna Cassidy] and Pris [Daryl Hannah]) have escaped back to Earth intent on forcing Tyrell to extend their lifespans so that they can truly discover the humanity within themselves.


Tyrell is also continuing to develop more advanced replicants, and Deckard discovers one of these at the Corporation - Rachael (Sean Young) is so advanced it takes four or five times longer to determine the truth about her because she has actually had young memories implanted within her. She is so advanced she is virtually undetectable, and in fact has no idea that she is not human. This poses a problem for Deckard, who is attracted to her and troubled by the ethics of the situation.


So, the usual hijinks occur - Deckard chases around bad guys, who are maybe not so bad after all, simply wanting the truth to their lives and the possibility to see them develop to their full potential. Of course, they can't, and being slightly less than human that gives them no qualms about killing those they feel are responsible.


I like the idea of it. I generally liked the look of it, taking away from the perfect futuristic idea and instead embedding a particular brand of eighties dirt and dinginess. It just... didn't really do anything for me. And I didn't go in with incredible hopes - yes, I've seen it praised as one of the greatest films ever made, but because it had never really appealed to me I was always skeptical about the claim. So I can't say it was disappointing due to expectations. In fact, I expected to go in there and feel the way I came out of it feeling, which is that it was a reasonably average film with elements that I can see could cause people to adore it, but more in a retro-memory kind of way. And this is what makes me think that I need to watch it again, awake, appropriately caffeinated and with a clear mind.


I was about to go through the elements of the film and talk about what I did and didn't like, but I think I should withhold judgement for the time being, not only because I think it needs another viewing but also because it was so long ago. The truth is, I just started to write about the performances and then deleted it to write the complete opposite - I'm too conflicted. The more I think about Blade Runner the more I need to understand it better. The more I need to see it again. So until I get around to it, I'm not even going to give it a rating. It will be a while before I see it again, but hopefully soon we'll see this through to the end.


(Ok, so I just went searching for images from the film, and yeah, the production design is actually phenomenal. Sci-fi films of today try and achieve the texture of this but with all of the CGI it doesn't have the same depth. Yeah, Blade Runner went for dirty, but you could really, really feel it. Modern films, regardless of the level of filth, just don't quite feel the same. I mean, yeah, Gandhi's art direction was good, but seriously, better than this? Which do you think really deserved the Oscar?)

The Audience Left Twenty Years Ago.

Sixty years ago (almost to the day) Paramount released Billy Wilder's Sunset Boulevard, a scathing and withering look at Hollywood star culture, into a film world dominated by cheese, contract players and nothing with any great depth (speaking, obviously, broadly and directed towards the major studios and their dominant popular fare.)

Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson) was a huge silent film star but is now an old and lonely faded celebrity living in a mammoth, gaudy mansion on Sunset Boulevard. A struggling journalist, Joe (William Holden), on the run from a pair of thugs attempting to repossess his car, turns into the driveway of the house with a flat tyre and ends up being drawn into Gloria's deranged world. She is convinced she is still a star and entreats Joe to help her write the screenplay for her triumphant return to the thousands of people she is sure are waiting breathlessly for her reappearance. Joe, being in a dire financial position, is in no position to say no, and ends up being drawn into the lavish lifestyle Norma provides for him. He is intrigued by her frailty and her belief in herself at the same time as a large part of him is simply indulging her fantasy for as long as he is able.


Joe begins working on another screenplay at night, leaving the mansion to write with Betty (Nancy Olson), a girl he met at a party. This upsets Norma greatly, as she is not only deluded by her own popularity and power within the world of entertainment, but also fiercely protective. Joe does feel guilty for his deception, especially due to his financial dependency on Norma, but he gradually manages to prise himself loose. Norma is missing calls from Paramount, assuming that they wish to finance her completed script, but when it is revealed that the studio merely wants to rent her car for a shoot, her butler and ex-husband Max (Eric von Stroheim) insists on keeping the information from Norma, in much the same way as he keeps from her that he is writing the vast majority of her fanmail. 


Quickly deteriorating mentally, Norma finally loses it all, committing a crime and being arrested at home in front of an enormous number of the press, vultures intent on picking over the corpse of Norma Desmond's career and sanity. She is convinced that these people are here to support her return to the screen, and after descending the staircase closes the film with one of the most memorable lines in cinema history.


Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett co-wrote the script, though only the first third was written when filming began, perhaps explaining how they got away with it. The film's narration (from Joe) does feel hack-ish, but this is totally accurate considering it is coming from the self-confessed hack himself. Norma has the best, most iconic lines, with Joe matching them with dry retorts and sarcasm. For a film put together as it went, the script is terrific, netting Wilder, Brackett and DM Marshman Jr an Oscar, to go with those handed to the art directors and composer Franz Waxman.


All of the lead actors deservedly received Oscar nominations for their terrific performances. Swanson, playing something close to herself, was superb, matched by Holden perfectly, who had to be forced into the role using his performance contract. Wilder draws them in and on, and brings the audience into the horror of the world of dead celebrity perfectly, capturing the fear, desperation and loneliness after the cameras have gone, brutally savaging the world of celebrity that has only become monumentally worse.


5 stars for this classic of cinema and tremendous achievement.

He's Heading Towards Certain Death.

I really didn't know what to expect when I picked up Werner Herzog's Oscar nominated Encounters At The End Of The World. I figured that I would end up watching an interesting and somewhat unique documentary about Antarctica, having learned from Grizzly Man that Herzog isn't your standard documentary filmmaker. I didn't expect to finish having experienced one of the most heartbreaking scenes I've seen on screen.


I'm sure anyone who has seen the film knows what I'm talking about. The suicidal penguin, the penguin who stands, seemingly momentarily confused, before choosing not to follow his fellow penguins and instead begin his solitary trek inland towards certain death. That lone penguin, scampering across the ice, wings outstretched and exaggerating that almost comically pathetic waddle. A black speck on a frozen ocean of white, perhaps deciding that enough is enough. And with Herzog's narration, with his particular views on humanity behind it, the scene is devastating, poignant and all too human.

Herzog took his camera and a cinematographer to McMurdo, the American outpost in Antarctica, a town Herzog describes in no uncertain terms as fundamentally depressing. He outlines what his film is going to be about - it won't (despite the above reference) be another film about fluffy penguins. He is concerned with humanity, with the people who are drawn to this lonely, desolate continent at the bottom of the world, with why they are there, what stories they may have to tell and how they survive so far from... well, everything.


He takes an incredibly unique and interesting view. He doesn't overly judge the people (though his dry commentary does often give some indication as to the humour he must feel regarding some of the personalities he encounters), simply allowing them to tell their stories, and contrasting them to the setting they are within. This setting is not merely the unattractive town, but the stunning beauty of Antarctica we all remember from films such as that one about the fluffy penguins. Herzog also ventures into the water, however, and not merely for the seals (though the sequence on their calls immediately makes me think of The Cove, which will be coming up shortly here...) but also to look at the beauty of single-cell organisms being newly identified constantly, forming beautiful, artistic shapes, with discussions on their intelligence. Herzog invariably manages to bring all of these natural wonders back to analogies about humanity, a feat that cannot be taken lightly and which proves ultimately incredibly interesting.


Yes, a lot of the film feels a little like pop psychology, but the insights and postulations are thought out and presented by Herzog as options rather than conclusions, opening a dialogue with the audience and allowing the viewer to completely fall into the film, emotionally and intellectually invest rather than simply passively enjoy. I left the film affected, though I couldn't begin to explain how. Thinking back on the film now it somehow has more weight than other films, it lies heavier on my body than most that I have seen. Similar to an incredible and powerful drama, which renders you paralysed and forces you to contemplate everything about and around yourself, Encounters At The End Of The World isn't a light film, despite its ostensibly light matter. It is far from depressing, in fact it is very enjoyable, but expect it to hit you far deeper than you might have thought. 5 stars.

Fuck Him Or Fight Him.

Hmm, I don't know what it is with Scorsese. Maybe he's a director I have to be in the mood for. Like, I gave Goodfellas 5 stars, and thinking back on it I don't know if I still would. Then I gave Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore 4 stars, where I'd probably now give it more. But I'd still probably give Shutter Island 2 stars. Maybe three, depending on my mood. I think that two stars is more related to the fact that I just wanted more from the film, from Scorsese.

With Raging Bull, I think my biggest obstacle is the fact that I thought it would knock me for six. I was waiting for it to blow me out of my chair, to completely astound me. I went in with three decades of expectations (well, less than two decades of that I was aware of it, but still, it was made thirty years ago) and came out thinking it should have been a little more. Not that it wasn't fantastic. There is something not quite grabbing me around my organs, which I can normally identify with those truly incredible movies, however. There isn't an overwhelming urge to go and watch it again, immediately. Though I must say the depth and texture of the film, and particularly De Niro's Oscar-winning lead performance, is drawing me back towards it.


De Niro plays a boxer, the raging bull of the title, one Jake La Motta. The story follows him over twenty years, with marriages, arguments, family fall outs (his brother is played terrifically by Scorsese regular Joe Pesci (does three films count as a regular? Sure. Let's go with it), bar purchases, mob run-ins - the full gamut of Italian-American boxing life in the 40s to the 60s. De Niro is at his powerful best, proving what an inimitable force he can be when given the right material, and when he really puts his back into it. God knows what path he's wandering down now, but give him back some meaty material and Marty and maybe we'll see him as good as he can be.


Scorsese takes Paul Schrader and Mardik Martin's adaptation of La Motta's autobiography and hones it into a taught biopic, spanning twenty years without dragging. And his fight scenes - holy gemini. The boxing scenes were truly beautiful to watch, in that they were also quite horrific. Cinematographer MIchael Chapman gave editor Thelma Schoonmaker some beautiful images to work with (and she won an Oscar for her terrific efforts). 


The film is very, very good. It's a terrific show of craft, and I think that's what I mean when I talk about it missing something to truly grab me by the balls and shake. I think this is a problem I have with many of Scorsese's films, in fact. I think they are incredible examples of craft, but somewhere along the line the heart goes missing. I'm not feeling this film. I'm watching it, I'm liking it, but I'm not feeling it.


Having said that, it is very good. Terrific, even. 4.5 stars.

No Time For The Ol' In-Out, Love, I've Just Come To Read The Meter.

Many people still believe that A Clockwork Orange was in fact banned in the UK until 2000, but that isn't the case. It was released in early 1972, but withdrawn from distribution in 1973 by Stanley Kubrick, with him vowing it wouldn't be released until after his death. Apparently this is due to a number of death threats relating to the film that he and his family received - not surprising, really, considering the subject matter.


Alex (Malcolm McDowell) is the leader of his pack of 'droogs', a gang of violent social miscreants whose primary past-times involved getting high on milk-plus and engaging in a little of the in-out and ultra-violence. In the near future they wander the streets of London with little to fear, armed with simple weapons but incredible passion and enormous belief in their own superiority. Upon returning home, Alex will abuse his parents, engage in threesomes, and get himself motivated with some Ludwig van blaring through his state-of-the-art sound system.

Eventually, Alex gets nabbed by the police. After a couple of years and attempts to curry favour by getting close to the prison chaplain, a volunteer is requested for a new, experimental aversion therapy called the Ludovico technique, and with the promise of being released in a matter of weeks, Alex puts his hand up. The therapy involved being straightjacketed in front of a screen, with his eyes being held open whilst horrible scenes are played to soundtracks while drugs are given to him to create a sickened reaction. Similar to the Pavlovian experiments, where dogs could be trained to salivate at the sound of a bell, Alex is being conditioned to have a physical reaction to acts of violence or sexual arousement. It also has the unfortunate side effect of conditioning him to be repulsed by Beethoven.


After his treatment he is pronounced as cured, though the prison chaplain protests that he has lost any free will he might otherwise have had. This point is all to quickly realised in the outside world when Alex comes across two of his former droogs, who are now police officers and therefore superior to their once abusive leader. The take Alex out to the country and set upon him, with Alex not only unable to fight back, but ill simply at the blows landing upon his body. His two former droogs finally release him, almost dead, and he crawls to the house of a man he assaulted some years before, who doesn't immediately recognise him. When he does realise who Alex is, however, he locks him in a room on the upper floor of his and begins to play Beethoven downstairs at high volume with the speakers pointed to the ceiling. Alex cannot take it and attempts suicide by throwing himself out of the window.


In hospital, in traction, the Minister of the Interior comes to Alex and apologises for their inhumane treatment, and Alex realises that his treatment has been reversed. As a sign of regret Alex is offered an important government job... but is it really a good idea?


McDowell is iconic in this role. He would never really go on to do anything approaching this again. The fact that, almost forty years down the track, he is still recognised for this role speaks volumes as to how well he got into the skin of this character. Patrick Magee has a supporting role as the man in the country initially assaulted by Alex who then drives him to suicide, heightening his performance to match the extreme nature of the film. Kubrick of course is Kubrick, fastidious Kubrick, incredible Kubrick. You can see and feel him in every scene, every shot, every line delivery. The look of the production, deisgned by John Barry, was beautiful, incorporating many artworks from Kubrick's current wife Christiane, and it was all captured beautifully once again by John Alcott. Kubrick again received three Oscar nominations for the film, for Picture, Director and Screenplay adapted from Anthony Burgess' source material. In addition Bill Butler received notice for his editing.


Violent, shocking, yes. But an incredible and everlasting piece of cinema as well. Sickening, maybe. But it goes far beyond sickening. The film is not sanctioning violence through Alex's actions, the effects of what he does are all too surely displayed. But curing violence is maybe not the answer. It may not even be possible. Removing the perpetrators ability to choose, crushing his own power to like or dislike, is only going to open him up to subsequent victimisation. Lock him away, sure, but rehabilitation can be a slippery slope. 5 stars.