I love the noir genre this first-time viewing has been a real treat. A moodily monochrome tale of a simple guy led astray by a femme fatale told in flashback by an investigative insurance salesman. That's right, it's Billy Wilder's 'Double Indemnity'- again.
Don't get me wrong, it's a very good movie. It zips along with a series of well-drawn and interesting characters providing strong support for the lead actors (a young Burt Lancaster looking for all the world like he's just stepped out of an eighties Levis' ad as the sap, Ava Gardner as the girl, Albert Dekker as the lead crook and Sam Levine- looking very much like Dexy's Midnight Runners genius Kevin Rowland does these days- as the cop).
The real stars, however, are the cinematographer Woody Bredell- the heist itself and the tracking shot with Nick Adams exiting the diner and running to warn Lancaster are spectacular- and Miklos Rozsa's string-heavy score. This is exactly how noir thrillers are meant to look and sound.
The first ten minutes or so are the best part by far with William Conrad and Charles McGraw as two seriously intimidating hit-men holding up a diner as they await their target. It is sensational stuff. If the rest of the film matched the standard of the opening scene, we're talking 10/10 but as it is the film gets a very strong 8/10 and a hearty recommendation.
Tuesday, 30 December 2008
Howard the Duck (1986)
I remember the hype, I remember the bad press, I remember loads about 'Howard the Duck' but I'd forgotten that I've never seen the Razzie-nominated Worst Film of the Decade. I have now.
First impressions (and I'm talking VERY first impressions here, like thirty seconds or so in) were that the noir-y feel of the title sequence and some inventive sight gags might mean that this could indeed be a forgotten treat. However, at twelve minutes in I first checked how long the film had left to run. I was bored. Most of the actors are on autopilot, especially Jeffrey Jones who can be a cracking comedy actor when he tries, but Tim Robbins is abysmally hammy and gives no hint of the comedic subtleties that he would later prove capable of.
This is a bloody shambles. An absolute shambles. I seem to recall that part of the problem this film had was the high expectations that the huge budget generated. Huge budget? If I'd spent a grand financing this I'd have wanted to know who it was being aimed at because it's too sleazy for kids and too juvenile for adults. And that's the problem, there's no control over the movie. It seems like everyone was having such a good time inventing duck gags, hiding clever references, punning and generally being smart-arses that they forgot that they were supposed to be entertaining the audience and not themselves. Anyway, back to the budget- where was it spent? I seem to remember that Howard the Duck cost more than the original Star Wars trilogy combined. The duck suit can't have come cheap and there a couple of decently-sized sets but that won't account for it all. Just what were the crew snacking on when they came up with this shite?
For the gags that I enjoyed before they proved wearisome, I give it 2/10. It got lucky.
First impressions (and I'm talking VERY first impressions here, like thirty seconds or so in) were that the noir-y feel of the title sequence and some inventive sight gags might mean that this could indeed be a forgotten treat. However, at twelve minutes in I first checked how long the film had left to run. I was bored. Most of the actors are on autopilot, especially Jeffrey Jones who can be a cracking comedy actor when he tries, but Tim Robbins is abysmally hammy and gives no hint of the comedic subtleties that he would later prove capable of.
This is a bloody shambles. An absolute shambles. I seem to recall that part of the problem this film had was the high expectations that the huge budget generated. Huge budget? If I'd spent a grand financing this I'd have wanted to know who it was being aimed at because it's too sleazy for kids and too juvenile for adults. And that's the problem, there's no control over the movie. It seems like everyone was having such a good time inventing duck gags, hiding clever references, punning and generally being smart-arses that they forgot that they were supposed to be entertaining the audience and not themselves. Anyway, back to the budget- where was it spent? I seem to remember that Howard the Duck cost more than the original Star Wars trilogy combined. The duck suit can't have come cheap and there a couple of decently-sized sets but that won't account for it all. Just what were the crew snacking on when they came up with this shite?
For the gags that I enjoyed before they proved wearisome, I give it 2/10. It got lucky.
Monday, 29 December 2008
Uncle Buck (1989)
Uncle Buck is hilarious because John Candy is hilarious in a role that is ideal for him in a movie that is an ideal vehicle for a peak-of-his-powers John Hughes. I like to judge movies against their aims and so a film trying and failing to be thought-provoking and profound (the example that comes straight to mind is Blowup) will always be worse than a movie that achieves its aim to be fun and disposable. Blowup has thousands of things which commend it that the makers of Uncle Buck would never even have attempted to bring to the screen. But it fails on its own terms and Uncle Buck succeeds on its own terms.
There you are, then. Fun, disposable, hilarious and better than Michelangelo Antonioni's Blowup: Uncle Buck. 6/10.
There you are, then. Fun, disposable, hilarious and better than Michelangelo Antonioni's Blowup: Uncle Buck. 6/10.
Sunday, 28 December 2008
Magnum Force (1973)
Having suffered the cloying sweetness of 'The Holiday', I was in the mood for something a little different and today's LoveFilm delivery 'Magnum Force' certainly fitted the bill on that score. The sequel to Don Siegel's excellent 'Dirty Harry' this film makes it clear that the old adage of 'why change a winning formula' was at the forefront of the minds of everyone involved. The entire opening credits are played out over a close-up of a Magnum .44 and close with the gun pointing towards the screen and Harry's iconic "do you feel lucky, punk?" speech from the first film is replayed to get the audience in the mood. Already you're aware that there's not intended to be a lot of subtlety over the following couple of hours. They may as well have put up a banner reading "turn off your brains and enjoy the action". That's not a bad thing necessarily, but what made the original so compelling was the playing with the audience's preconceptions and expectations- the movie's intelligence, if you will. The lowering of the audience's expectations is a little disheartening. Director Ted Post is no Don Siegel and knows it, he doesn't even try.
Incidentally, the "do you feel lucky, punk?" speech was made after Harry was interrupted while eating a hot-dog from a stand opposite a bank to deal with an armed robbery that occurred across the road. About three scenes into Magnum Force Harry is interrupted from eating a burger from a stand in an airport (for no plausible reason) to deal with a plane hijacking happening in that terminal. My advice is that if you ever see Clint eating fast-food in public, get the hell away from him.
Okay, so the movie opens with a Union leader being found not guilty of a felony due to the 'lack of admissible evidence'. This is shorthand for he's guilty AND corrupt. His car is pulled over by a motorcycle cop- whose face isn't shown- and the Union boss, his lawyer, his driver and his bodyguard are all shot dead at the roadside. The next victims of the (still unmasked) vigilante cop are a swimming pool full of party guests- who he throws a bomb at and then shoots before the bomb explodes- and a pimp who appears to have stepped straight off the set of 'I'm Gonna Git You Sucka'. By the way, at the editing stage they appear to have completely cut out the storyline that explains who the people at the party were. Let's assume they were gangsters.
At this point Harry and his new partner are recalled to the case. Within about thirty seconds, he's figured out that it was a traffic cop doing the killings. His rationale is that two of the killings were done through the opened window of a parked car from point blank range and that the victims (who would hardly be the types to not pull a gun quickly in most circumstances) had their driving licences out. No-one else in the SFPD had figured this out- they should all be demoted. When we next see the vigilante in action again he revealed as 'Silver Lady' crooner David 'Hutch' Soul one of four rookie cops who are all about as good with a weapon as seven-time consecutive police marksman champion Dirty Harry. Imagine that!
I have a theory about Harry Callaghan. Coming three years after Peter Yates' groundbreaking 'Bullitt', 'Dirty Harry' can be seen as an extension of the earlier film. Where Steve McQueen's Frank Bullitt was a good San Francisco cop who was tough and uncompromising, Eastwood's Harry Callaghan is the same but of a more extreme nature. Bullitt was driven by the desire to catch the bad guys but had a stable and happy relationship. Callaghan is newly-bereaved, his methods questionable- torturing a suspect to find the location of a kidnapped girl- and his motivation (at least in the first movie) unclear. In 'Magnum Force', the vigilante cops confront Harry once he'd deduced it was them (not that they could have known he had) and say "you're either for or against us". He makes it clear he's no vigilante- and so the ambiguity of the first film is sacrificed to a straight good guy/bad guys battle. A real shame.
From here on in, it's formulaic. Harry's partner is killed (you'd be safer drumming for Spinal Tap than partnering Harry), then the cops and their leader- Harry's corrupt boss (Hal Holbrook)- are brought to justice, that is to say, killed one-by-one by Harry. The last one is left floating away just like Scorpio was too.
It is fitting, then, that Lalo Schifrin contributes a dull and unimaginative version of his 'Dirty Harry' score to this dull and unimaginative version of 'Dirty Harry'. Being a competent, formulaic cop sequel is one thing, but cheapening the magnificent original rather than even attempting to outdo it is awful. That turns a 5/10 film into a 2/10 film.
I've spent four hours of my day watching Clint Eastwood and Eli Wallach in crap movies. I should've watched The Good, The Bad and The Ugly and treated myself to an extra hour in bed! Pah!
Incidentally, the "do you feel lucky, punk?" speech was made after Harry was interrupted while eating a hot-dog from a stand opposite a bank to deal with an armed robbery that occurred across the road. About three scenes into Magnum Force Harry is interrupted from eating a burger from a stand in an airport (for no plausible reason) to deal with a plane hijacking happening in that terminal. My advice is that if you ever see Clint eating fast-food in public, get the hell away from him.
Okay, so the movie opens with a Union leader being found not guilty of a felony due to the 'lack of admissible evidence'. This is shorthand for he's guilty AND corrupt. His car is pulled over by a motorcycle cop- whose face isn't shown- and the Union boss, his lawyer, his driver and his bodyguard are all shot dead at the roadside. The next victims of the (still unmasked) vigilante cop are a swimming pool full of party guests- who he throws a bomb at and then shoots before the bomb explodes- and a pimp who appears to have stepped straight off the set of 'I'm Gonna Git You Sucka'. By the way, at the editing stage they appear to have completely cut out the storyline that explains who the people at the party were. Let's assume they were gangsters.
At this point Harry and his new partner are recalled to the case. Within about thirty seconds, he's figured out that it was a traffic cop doing the killings. His rationale is that two of the killings were done through the opened window of a parked car from point blank range and that the victims (who would hardly be the types to not pull a gun quickly in most circumstances) had their driving licences out. No-one else in the SFPD had figured this out- they should all be demoted. When we next see the vigilante in action again he revealed as 'Silver Lady' crooner David 'Hutch' Soul one of four rookie cops who are all about as good with a weapon as seven-time consecutive police marksman champion Dirty Harry. Imagine that!
I have a theory about Harry Callaghan. Coming three years after Peter Yates' groundbreaking 'Bullitt', 'Dirty Harry' can be seen as an extension of the earlier film. Where Steve McQueen's Frank Bullitt was a good San Francisco cop who was tough and uncompromising, Eastwood's Harry Callaghan is the same but of a more extreme nature. Bullitt was driven by the desire to catch the bad guys but had a stable and happy relationship. Callaghan is newly-bereaved, his methods questionable- torturing a suspect to find the location of a kidnapped girl- and his motivation (at least in the first movie) unclear. In 'Magnum Force', the vigilante cops confront Harry once he'd deduced it was them (not that they could have known he had) and say "you're either for or against us". He makes it clear he's no vigilante- and so the ambiguity of the first film is sacrificed to a straight good guy/bad guys battle. A real shame.
From here on in, it's formulaic. Harry's partner is killed (you'd be safer drumming for Spinal Tap than partnering Harry), then the cops and their leader- Harry's corrupt boss (Hal Holbrook)- are brought to justice, that is to say, killed one-by-one by Harry. The last one is left floating away just like Scorpio was too.
It is fitting, then, that Lalo Schifrin contributes a dull and unimaginative version of his 'Dirty Harry' score to this dull and unimaginative version of 'Dirty Harry'. Being a competent, formulaic cop sequel is one thing, but cheapening the magnificent original rather than even attempting to outdo it is awful. That turns a 5/10 film into a 2/10 film.
I've spent four hours of my day watching Clint Eastwood and Eli Wallach in crap movies. I should've watched The Good, The Bad and The Ugly and treated myself to an extra hour in bed! Pah!
Carry On Camping (1969)
It's almost certain that I've seen 'Carry On Camping' more often than any other film. It's a comedic comfort blanket. I can recite the dialogue along with the actors with my eyes closed.
Quite why it holds such interest for me I don't know. It is neither the best scripted nor the most inventive of the Carry On series. But it is the funniest. All of the best Carry On regulars (barring Kenneth Connor and Jack Douglas) are present and in fine form. The gags are usually on target and often laugh-out-loud funny. 8/10.
Quite why it holds such interest for me I don't know. It is neither the best scripted nor the most inventive of the Carry On series. But it is the funniest. All of the best Carry On regulars (barring Kenneth Connor and Jack Douglas) are present and in fine form. The gags are usually on target and often laugh-out-loud funny. 8/10.
Saturday, 27 December 2008
The Holiday (2006)
My wife Laura is a wonderful girl (she hasn't and won't, in her own Beauvoirian terms, become a woman). She is funny, intelligent, profound and erudite but (aside from her two favourite films 'Billy Liar' and 'Carry On Camping') she generally has horrible taste in films with a particular leaning towards Rom-Coms. And that results in me having some degree of expertise in the field. Which is a shame for 'The Holiday' because it means that I've seen it various times under various names before. The only surprise is a delightful turn by Eli Wallach as nonagenarian screenwriter Arthur Abbott. Whether it is delightful in its own right or I'm being kind because it is wonderful to see one last hurrah from a screen great I don't know or care, I loved it.
The storyline- such as it is- involves four heartbroken people finding love at Christmas. Cameron Diaz and Kate Winslet on the rebound from bad relationships house-swap for two weeks and find love with regular visitors of one-another's. Cameron meets Jude Law in snowbound (but, oddly, never snowing) England and Kate finds love with Jack Black in sun-kissed Los Angeles (where she wears winter clothes throughout).
Oh, why am I bothering- it's crap. It requires a lobotomy, not a suspension of disbelief. The key players have no discernible chemistry and their characters are as two-dimensional as they are vapid. Jude Law gets the plum role as the seeming playboy who is actually the widowed father of two young girls- yes, that is as interesting as it gets. In the best supporting role Rufus Sewell gets to re-enact Hugh Grant's character from 'Bridget Jones' Diary' (told you that I was an expert) and once again raise the question of how a man can be that good-looking despite have such wonky eyes.
Anyway, I'm going to give this 2/10 (both points for the presence of Eli Wallach) and the memory that I could see a film with more wit, charisma, cuteness, more realism and yet more fantasy by watching the decidedly average 'Love Actually'.
The storyline- such as it is- involves four heartbroken people finding love at Christmas. Cameron Diaz and Kate Winslet on the rebound from bad relationships house-swap for two weeks and find love with regular visitors of one-another's. Cameron meets Jude Law in snowbound (but, oddly, never snowing) England and Kate finds love with Jack Black in sun-kissed Los Angeles (where she wears winter clothes throughout).
Oh, why am I bothering- it's crap. It requires a lobotomy, not a suspension of disbelief. The key players have no discernible chemistry and their characters are as two-dimensional as they are vapid. Jude Law gets the plum role as the seeming playboy who is actually the widowed father of two young girls- yes, that is as interesting as it gets. In the best supporting role Rufus Sewell gets to re-enact Hugh Grant's character from 'Bridget Jones' Diary' (told you that I was an expert) and once again raise the question of how a man can be that good-looking despite have such wonky eyes.
Anyway, I'm going to give this 2/10 (both points for the presence of Eli Wallach) and the memory that I could see a film with more wit, charisma, cuteness, more realism and yet more fantasy by watching the decidedly average 'Love Actually'.
They're a Weird Mob (1966)
And, to be fair, that's a weird film.
It's not surreal or intricate or confusingly plotted or visually curious, it's weird because I don't know why anyone would ever make a film like it. It's a culture-clash comedy between a charming Italian immigrant and his rough and ready Sydney-based workmates, with a minor love-interest angle to keep the ladies happy. I'm not preaching sexism, it's that kind of film.
Walter Chiari is utterly engaging as the fish-out-of-water Italian and his charm sustained me through the first hour but there was always the nagging thought in my head "when is the story going to start?". It never did. In the end I resigned myself to the fact that, following the furore caused by his magnificent 'Peeping Tom', Michael Powell had decided to never risk offending anyone again. What follows, therefore, is a near-two hour advertisement for Australia as a place of easy manners, friendly locals, and a hard-working, hard-drinking culture where men are men and women aren't. If you want an easy-going film that uses stereotypes and language-barrier gags as shorthand means of dispensing with character development and narrative construction, then this film is the one for you.
Michael Powell's visual brilliance is kept under wraps but for a couple of moments as he plays it safe and for laughs. He is a fantastic director, but this must stand as his poorest film that I've seen. It isn't bad, just inconsequential and more than a little dull. 3/10.
It's not surreal or intricate or confusingly plotted or visually curious, it's weird because I don't know why anyone would ever make a film like it. It's a culture-clash comedy between a charming Italian immigrant and his rough and ready Sydney-based workmates, with a minor love-interest angle to keep the ladies happy. I'm not preaching sexism, it's that kind of film.
Walter Chiari is utterly engaging as the fish-out-of-water Italian and his charm sustained me through the first hour but there was always the nagging thought in my head "when is the story going to start?". It never did. In the end I resigned myself to the fact that, following the furore caused by his magnificent 'Peeping Tom', Michael Powell had decided to never risk offending anyone again. What follows, therefore, is a near-two hour advertisement for Australia as a place of easy manners, friendly locals, and a hard-working, hard-drinking culture where men are men and women aren't. If you want an easy-going film that uses stereotypes and language-barrier gags as shorthand means of dispensing with character development and narrative construction, then this film is the one for you.
Michael Powell's visual brilliance is kept under wraps but for a couple of moments as he plays it safe and for laughs. He is a fantastic director, but this must stand as his poorest film that I've seen. It isn't bad, just inconsequential and more than a little dull. 3/10.
Friday, 26 December 2008
Ashanti (1979)
Michael Caine will star in any film that pays irrespective of its merit, I think we'd all accept that. But do we have to watch? Ashanti is a by-numbers chase movie set in Africa and with a number of big name cameo parts. The director (Richard Fleischer) had long since proved that he can handle 'big' movies with big names- especially with 'The Vikings'- but he must've been too busy applying sun-tan lotion to notice that the highly-paid stars he'd flown in at great expense (Omar Sharif, William Holden, Rex Harrison, Peter Ustinov) were barely doing more than reciting the banal script. The lowest-point came with the once-great Holden mentioning casually to Caine (after being shot whilst in control of a helicopter because Caine didn't fire first) that he should jump before they crash and Caine responding by looking out of the window with a bare modicum of interest.
He jumped eventually and survived. What a shame. The film could have been over in half an hour. Nothing redeems this film. Nothing. 0/10.
He jumped eventually and survived. What a shame. The film could have been over in half an hour. Nothing redeems this film. Nothing. 0/10.
Thursday, 25 December 2008
Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998)
If you're a British man in your twenties or thirties, the chances are you've probably seen this a fair few times. The fact that I ended up watching it (again) today wasn't by choice, therefore, but to humour someone who hadn't seen it. If that makes watching it sound like a chore, it is and it isn't. The film is ten years old now and very resonant of its time.
Four young British clothes horses (they're models, not actors right?) end up owing a cartoonish local villain half a million pounds with only a week to pay up. There then transpires an unlikely sequence of events in which three gangs all handle- at one time or another- a bag-load of cash, a van-load of drugs and two antique muskets. There a few minor twists and turns and all of the loose ends are tied up in under two hours. It is the type of movie designed to flatter the audience that they are following a labyrinthine plot when- in reality- not a lot happens.
What makes Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels so exemplary of late nineties film-making is its over-stylization. The entire thing is drenched in sepia, it has an achingly cool soundtrack, there is cartoon violence done in CGI slo-mo, the whole thing is so obviously packaged and a product by design. It is as if Guy Ritchie was handed copies of Trainspotting, Pulp Fiction, The Italian Job and The Matrix and instructed to produce a film that combines their best bits. It is all so fucking deliberate and meticulously planned to tick the boxes that defined that zeitgeist.
The only thing that Guy Ritchie brings to Lock, Stock... which you won't have seen done better before is his infatuation with butch men. This isn't a homo-erotic thing, it is clear (with the hindsight of his subsequent offerings) that Ritchie likes and identifies with 'tough guys'. His films increasingly focus upon tough working class men doing tough working class things and, given his privileged upbringing, this can't help but look a little like a posh man exercising his infatuation in public. Which is a bit odd. The problem is that the slang dialogue and casual homophobia sound a little too contrived to be convincing.
Having said all of this, I'm not kicking the movie. It is entertaining and succeeds in its (limited) aims. I'll give it a creditable 5/10.
Four young British clothes horses (they're models, not actors right?) end up owing a cartoonish local villain half a million pounds with only a week to pay up. There then transpires an unlikely sequence of events in which three gangs all handle- at one time or another- a bag-load of cash, a van-load of drugs and two antique muskets. There a few minor twists and turns and all of the loose ends are tied up in under two hours. It is the type of movie designed to flatter the audience that they are following a labyrinthine plot when- in reality- not a lot happens.
What makes Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels so exemplary of late nineties film-making is its over-stylization. The entire thing is drenched in sepia, it has an achingly cool soundtrack, there is cartoon violence done in CGI slo-mo, the whole thing is so obviously packaged and a product by design. It is as if Guy Ritchie was handed copies of Trainspotting, Pulp Fiction, The Italian Job and The Matrix and instructed to produce a film that combines their best bits. It is all so fucking deliberate and meticulously planned to tick the boxes that defined that zeitgeist.
The only thing that Guy Ritchie brings to Lock, Stock... which you won't have seen done better before is his infatuation with butch men. This isn't a homo-erotic thing, it is clear (with the hindsight of his subsequent offerings) that Ritchie likes and identifies with 'tough guys'. His films increasingly focus upon tough working class men doing tough working class things and, given his privileged upbringing, this can't help but look a little like a posh man exercising his infatuation in public. Which is a bit odd. The problem is that the slang dialogue and casual homophobia sound a little too contrived to be convincing.
Having said all of this, I'm not kicking the movie. It is entertaining and succeeds in its (limited) aims. I'll give it a creditable 5/10.
Angels With Dirty Faces (1938)
One of the saddest legacies of my heavy-drinking days is that I've half-seen or half-remember so many films. This is one of them. Watching it today I honestly couldn't tell if I'd seen it before in a stupor, or seen various parts of the film at various times. Or if it is just so quotable and influential that it is one of those films which is diminished because you've seen so much of it before, done in inferior ways by inferior film-makers.
The plotline is interesting but pretty generic (here's one of the ways that it could've been diminished, for all I know its ambiguous ending may have been a complete revelation in 1938), Michael Curtiz's direction is zippy but dated and the script is quotable but self-consciously so.
The big thing this film has going for it is the performances of its main players. James Cagney is in it. See? And he plays James Cagney better than he's ever played him before. Understand? It's a great performance, iconic and memorable. Pat O'Brien plays the tough part of the young hood-turned-priest convincingly. And Humphrey Bogart plays it deft and understated in the part of the slippery lawyer Frazier.
I liked a lot about watching this film- the basketball game is tremendous fun and the ending is very clever- but, for me anyway, it is less than the sum of its parts and I give it a 7/10.
The plotline is interesting but pretty generic (here's one of the ways that it could've been diminished, for all I know its ambiguous ending may have been a complete revelation in 1938), Michael Curtiz's direction is zippy but dated and the script is quotable but self-consciously so.
The big thing this film has going for it is the performances of its main players. James Cagney is in it. See? And he plays James Cagney better than he's ever played him before. Understand? It's a great performance, iconic and memorable. Pat O'Brien plays the tough part of the young hood-turned-priest convincingly. And Humphrey Bogart plays it deft and understated in the part of the slippery lawyer Frazier.
I liked a lot about watching this film- the basketball game is tremendous fun and the ending is very clever- but, for me anyway, it is less than the sum of its parts and I give it a 7/10.
Wednesday, 24 December 2008
It's A Wonderful Life (1946)
Through the cruelty of another, a man's life is in ruins and he is faced with "bankruptcy and scandal and prison". He is about to take his own life when an Angel offers him the chance to see what the world would be like had he not lived. The bleakness that permeates the lives of everyone he knows and loves in his absence persuades him that he "really had a wonderful life". At this point, I start blubbing.
Then he gets his life back and I'm in floods of tears and he tells the Sheriff "isn't it wonderful, I'm going to jail" before his friends and neighbours gather around to save him and sing "Auld Lang Syne" and I get carted off to hospital and put on a saline drip having cried all of the salt from my body.
Frank Capra Jr is a wonderful feelgood Director and in "It's A Wonderful Life", whether intentionally or not, he passed off a serious message about the perils of rampant capitalism and the need for some form of communalism in the most capitalist country in the world at the outset of McCarthyism and got away with it. He made wonderful, life-affirming movies and this is the finest of them.
James Stewart gives a marvellous performance embodying the young, idealistic George Bailey and the warped, frustrated version a mere ten years on (he doesn't look the same man!) wonderfully. It's the performance of a lifetime from one of the world's finest actors.
The supporting cast of fully-realised and interesting characters are all excellent- especially Donna Reed as Mary Bailey and Lionel Barrymore as Henry F. Potter.
I have a good friend with impeccable taste who simply doesn't get this film. I understand that, I don't get The Clash- though I know that I should. It depends on if you're touched by what you're seeing or hearing and sometimes you're immune. Odd, but true. I'm the opposite, this just gets me. It just does. This truly is one of the most perfectly realised pieces of film-making I have ever seen. It is by turns funny, sad, dramatic, harrowing, heartwarming and wise and it is as clear an example of a 10/10 film as there could be.
Then he gets his life back and I'm in floods of tears and he tells the Sheriff "isn't it wonderful, I'm going to jail" before his friends and neighbours gather around to save him and sing "Auld Lang Syne" and I get carted off to hospital and put on a saline drip having cried all of the salt from my body.
Frank Capra Jr is a wonderful feelgood Director and in "It's A Wonderful Life", whether intentionally or not, he passed off a serious message about the perils of rampant capitalism and the need for some form of communalism in the most capitalist country in the world at the outset of McCarthyism and got away with it. He made wonderful, life-affirming movies and this is the finest of them.
James Stewart gives a marvellous performance embodying the young, idealistic George Bailey and the warped, frustrated version a mere ten years on (he doesn't look the same man!) wonderfully. It's the performance of a lifetime from one of the world's finest actors.
The supporting cast of fully-realised and interesting characters are all excellent- especially Donna Reed as Mary Bailey and Lionel Barrymore as Henry F. Potter.
I have a good friend with impeccable taste who simply doesn't get this film. I understand that, I don't get The Clash- though I know that I should. It depends on if you're touched by what you're seeing or hearing and sometimes you're immune. Odd, but true. I'm the opposite, this just gets me. It just does. This truly is one of the most perfectly realised pieces of film-making I have ever seen. It is by turns funny, sad, dramatic, harrowing, heartwarming and wise and it is as clear an example of a 10/10 film as there could be.
Singin' In The Rain (1952)
There are things in my life that just don't make sense. Singin' In The Rain is one of them. I was vaguely aware of its existence- in the same way that I know Oklahoma, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers and Calamity Jane exist- without ever having any intention of seeing it. Then, as I worked my way through the IMDB Top 250 a couple of years back it was on there and I was blown away by it. And then everyone I spoke to about it felt the same towards it. Had the world been keeping it a secret for any particular reason? Anyway, this is a scorching film and, having seen it again today, I'm struggling to know where to start with it.
Hollywood loves films about Hollywood (from Chaplin to David Lynch) and this film is up there with Sunset Boulevard as the very best of them. It is about the influence of technology and progress (the advent of talking pictures) and is exemplary of technology and progress (with vivid technicolor sequences, state-of-the-art sound and the expressionist sets for "Gotta Dance"). It is about the need for artistry, talent and star quality and the artifice that lesser talents hide behind. It is about duplicity and corruption and conservatism and politicking and vested interests. It is a very serious movie in many ways.
But it's also a very funny film comedy and a musical with tremendous songs and memorable choreography beautifully accomplished. Everyone in it acts their heart out and they are all clearly having a ball. It is just such a greatly enriching and enjoyable movie experience- a big 9/10 from me. And I generally hate musicals!
Hollywood loves films about Hollywood (from Chaplin to David Lynch) and this film is up there with Sunset Boulevard as the very best of them. It is about the influence of technology and progress (the advent of talking pictures) and is exemplary of technology and progress (with vivid technicolor sequences, state-of-the-art sound and the expressionist sets for "Gotta Dance"). It is about the need for artistry, talent and star quality and the artifice that lesser talents hide behind. It is about duplicity and corruption and conservatism and politicking and vested interests. It is a very serious movie in many ways.
But it's also a very funny film comedy and a musical with tremendous songs and memorable choreography beautifully accomplished. Everyone in it acts their heart out and they are all clearly having a ball. It is just such a greatly enriching and enjoyable movie experience- a big 9/10 from me. And I generally hate musicals!
Elf (2003)
This is one of those films that you can really dislike if you try. But why would you?
Will Ferrell is a baby orphan who sneaks into Santa's sack one Christmas and ends up in the North Pole where he is raised by Elves. When he grows up he returns to New York to find his real father (James Caan) and- as is always the way- save Christmas. It's cute, it's schmaltzy, it's a bit slapstick, it a bit funny, it has a really heartwarming message about the spirit of Christmas and it just feels pretty good.
In short, it aims to do a job and it works! Ferrell should be irritating not endearing, but you just warm to him. And it is his movie. He carries it wonderfully well bringing a patchy script to life with his sheer enthusiasm at times. I'd also like to mention James Caan's bouffant which was dyed to match his coat and is hilarious and kind of sad at the same time.
It would be 5/10 but the fact that Will Ferrell turned down huge offers to make a sequel because it would've tainted this one accrues a bonus point- 6/10.
Will Ferrell is a baby orphan who sneaks into Santa's sack one Christmas and ends up in the North Pole where he is raised by Elves. When he grows up he returns to New York to find his real father (James Caan) and- as is always the way- save Christmas. It's cute, it's schmaltzy, it's a bit slapstick, it a bit funny, it has a really heartwarming message about the spirit of Christmas and it just feels pretty good.
In short, it aims to do a job and it works! Ferrell should be irritating not endearing, but you just warm to him. And it is his movie. He carries it wonderfully well bringing a patchy script to life with his sheer enthusiasm at times. I'd also like to mention James Caan's bouffant which was dyed to match his coat and is hilarious and kind of sad at the same time.
It would be 5/10 but the fact that Will Ferrell turned down huge offers to make a sequel because it would've tainted this one accrues a bonus point- 6/10.
Lady Cocoa (1975)
If you buy a 'soul cinema' movie you've never heard of from Poundland, then you've no right to expect Citizen Kane. And I didn't. Even so my already low expectations took a nosedive when the DVD began- I was watching a transfer from a poor quality VHS recording. Perhaps even from a Betamax, who knows? But, in a way, that crappiness was great. As a young teen, my movie viewing was almost entirely restricted to well-worn videos from the local rental store and this was like a trip back in time. Yes, I watched shite then too.
Lola Falana (Lady Cocoa) is a prisoner who has served eighteen months for contempt of court and, in return for turning state's evidence against her boyfriend (who is hoping to move into Las Vegas as a racketeer) she is granted 24 hours leave from her inexplicably decorated prison cell under police protection. In truth, I would have been unhappy with the protection offered as they are followed from the prison car-park along miles of deserted roads by two thugs in a pimpmobile and neither cop notices- this plot has more holes than a tennis racket. Lady Cocoa isn't fussed, though, she's more interested in the standards of artwork that the hotel have to offer (she's cultured, you see- she also quotes philosophy. And Janis Joplin) and ordering a series of meals that she never eats. During her 24 hours leave she is supposed to stay in a hotel room with her escorts but, while the senior officer is out of the room for no discernable reason, she persuades the rookie to take her down to the dress shop in the hotel foyer.
I'm going to digress for a moment and talk about the rookie. He's a Carl Weathers-type good looking black guy and is obviously the love interest. His character is fascinating- he is a beat patrol officer selected for his first plain-clothes job over many better-qualified men because he "knows how to take orders". This is one of four things that we know about him. The others are that he carries a 'rattlesnake skin-handled pistol' even though it is against regulations, that he was due to have an emergency amputation on a gangrenous leg in Vietnam but threatened to kill the surgeon who then changed his mind (fortuitously so, as there is no hint of a limp during the course of the movie) and, finally, that the lump of wood playing him shows less emotion than Bruce Lee's digitally superimposed photograph in that scene in Game of Death.
Okay, so where was I? Well Lola Falana- who is by miles the best thing in the movie and gives some pretty rancid dialogue far more credit than it deserves- has persuaded the cop to take her to the foyer. The condition of her temporary pass is that they give her whatever she wants- so long as it doesn't include leaving the hotel room- and so she demands all of the money her remaining escort has (this is his own money, by the way) to spend on clothes. So, he hands it over. It's twenty dollars. As this isn't enough he agrees that they go and gamble it at the (curiously empty) blackjack table. She places all of the cash on the first hand.
This happens 32 minutes into a 1 hour 40 minute movie. And at this point, the DVD gave up altogether- in both of the machines I tried. I can only surmise that the disc refused to go any further in protest at how craptacular the movie was. Good decision. 1/10 - that point was for Lola Falana. She deserved better.
And is this the only blaxploitation film ever where even the soundtrack (which they forgot to add to a couple of scenes) really sucked? Lalo Schifrin's 'Dirty Harry' intro would turn in its grave if it heard the wahwah-ed up imitation used intermittently here.
Lola Falana (Lady Cocoa) is a prisoner who has served eighteen months for contempt of court and, in return for turning state's evidence against her boyfriend (who is hoping to move into Las Vegas as a racketeer) she is granted 24 hours leave from her inexplicably decorated prison cell under police protection. In truth, I would have been unhappy with the protection offered as they are followed from the prison car-park along miles of deserted roads by two thugs in a pimpmobile and neither cop notices- this plot has more holes than a tennis racket. Lady Cocoa isn't fussed, though, she's more interested in the standards of artwork that the hotel have to offer (she's cultured, you see- she also quotes philosophy. And Janis Joplin) and ordering a series of meals that she never eats. During her 24 hours leave she is supposed to stay in a hotel room with her escorts but, while the senior officer is out of the room for no discernable reason, she persuades the rookie to take her down to the dress shop in the hotel foyer.
I'm going to digress for a moment and talk about the rookie. He's a Carl Weathers-type good looking black guy and is obviously the love interest. His character is fascinating- he is a beat patrol officer selected for his first plain-clothes job over many better-qualified men because he "knows how to take orders". This is one of four things that we know about him. The others are that he carries a 'rattlesnake skin-handled pistol' even though it is against regulations, that he was due to have an emergency amputation on a gangrenous leg in Vietnam but threatened to kill the surgeon who then changed his mind (fortuitously so, as there is no hint of a limp during the course of the movie) and, finally, that the lump of wood playing him shows less emotion than Bruce Lee's digitally superimposed photograph in that scene in Game of Death.
Okay, so where was I? Well Lola Falana- who is by miles the best thing in the movie and gives some pretty rancid dialogue far more credit than it deserves- has persuaded the cop to take her to the foyer. The condition of her temporary pass is that they give her whatever she wants- so long as it doesn't include leaving the hotel room- and so she demands all of the money her remaining escort has (this is his own money, by the way) to spend on clothes. So, he hands it over. It's twenty dollars. As this isn't enough he agrees that they go and gamble it at the (curiously empty) blackjack table. She places all of the cash on the first hand.
This happens 32 minutes into a 1 hour 40 minute movie. And at this point, the DVD gave up altogether- in both of the machines I tried. I can only surmise that the disc refused to go any further in protest at how craptacular the movie was. Good decision. 1/10 - that point was for Lola Falana. She deserved better.
And is this the only blaxploitation film ever where even the soundtrack (which they forgot to add to a couple of scenes) really sucked? Lalo Schifrin's 'Dirty Harry' intro would turn in its grave if it heard the wahwah-ed up imitation used intermittently here.
Tuesday, 23 December 2008
Scrooge (1951)
It was up against it this one.
I've been Christmas shopping all day and have had the festive spirit bashed out of me by the elbows of people keen to get the last remaining items at Woolworths. On top of that I've already seen one version of the story today. The only copy of this film I own is a bizarrely colourised version (underpaid clerk Bob Cratchitt has a sky blue top hat!) with appalling sound quality. And it is probably the most well-known modern story of them all, so surprises are out of the question.
But it delivered wonderfully. Alastair Sim gives a career-best performance as Ebeneezer Scrooge. The difficulty of the part is in getting the balance right between the malevolent and the joyful, pacing the change in Scrooge's demeanour (so often Scrooge seems to have changed as soon as he sees Marley's ghost). Sim does this wonderfully and the pathos with which he delivers the key scene- "I fear you more than any spectre I have met tonight! But even in my fear, I must say that I am too old! I cannot change! I cannot! It's not that I'm inpenitent, it's just... Wouldn't it be better if I just went home to bed?"- is truly memorable.
And yet, though, he carries the weight of the film there is far more here to enjoy than Sim's bravura performance. There is a wonderful scene where Tiny Tim elicits great joy from watching the Victorian-era clockwork toys through the window of a toyshop, by the way, are possibly the maddest set of movie gnashers since Max Schreck's). The much-underrated Michael Hordern gives a melodramatic turn as Marley's ghost- and a very subtle Jacob Marley in the flashback scene.George Cole is believable as the embittered young Ebeneezer. Kathleen Harrison (as Mrs Dilber, the Housekeeper) leads a fine supporting cast of alienated acquaintances eager to exploit Scrooge's death- you simply don't feel any anger at their ghoulish acts.
The closing of the story- where Scrooge finds redemption- is conveyed by a dizzyingly excitable Sim dancing, singing and (failing in his attempt at) doing a handstand and is a scene of unrestricted joy. It even contains a great goof with a member of the crew poking his head into shot via a mirror. Several times.
There are faults- Scrooge's nephew Fred (Brian Worth) is like a hypnotised Keanu Reeves, for instance- but they are minor. Overall, it's a hugely enjoyable film, a Christmas great and Alastair Sim is the definitive cinematic Scrooge - 8/10.
I've been Christmas shopping all day and have had the festive spirit bashed out of me by the elbows of people keen to get the last remaining items at Woolworths. On top of that I've already seen one version of the story today. The only copy of this film I own is a bizarrely colourised version (underpaid clerk Bob Cratchitt has a sky blue top hat!) with appalling sound quality. And it is probably the most well-known modern story of them all, so surprises are out of the question.
But it delivered wonderfully. Alastair Sim gives a career-best performance as Ebeneezer Scrooge. The difficulty of the part is in getting the balance right between the malevolent and the joyful, pacing the change in Scrooge's demeanour (so often Scrooge seems to have changed as soon as he sees Marley's ghost). Sim does this wonderfully and the pathos with which he delivers the key scene- "I fear you more than any spectre I have met tonight! But even in my fear, I must say that I am too old! I cannot change! I cannot! It's not that I'm inpenitent, it's just... Wouldn't it be better if I just went home to bed?"- is truly memorable.
And yet, though, he carries the weight of the film there is far more here to enjoy than Sim's bravura performance. There is a wonderful scene where Tiny Tim elicits great joy from watching the Victorian-era clockwork toys through the window of a toyshop, by the way, are possibly the maddest set of movie gnashers since Max Schreck's). The much-underrated Michael Hordern gives a melodramatic turn as Marley's ghost- and a very subtle Jacob Marley in the flashback scene.
The closing of the story- where Scrooge finds redemption- is conveyed by a dizzyingly excitable Sim dancing, singing and (failing in his attempt at) doing a handstand and is a scene of unrestricted joy. It even contains a great goof with a member of the crew poking his head into shot via a mirror. Several times.
There are faults- Scrooge's nephew Fred (Brian Worth) is like a hypnotised Keanu Reeves, for instance- but they are minor. Overall, it's a hugely enjoyable film, a Christmas great and Alastair Sim is the definitive cinematic Scrooge - 8/10.
Mickey's Christmas Carol (1983)
I watch this with my wife every year. It's a fun and seasonal way to pass a half an hour. It's neither as good or as poor as Disney is capable of. Scrooge McDuck is an obvious choice for Ebeneezer Scrooge (at one point he is referred to as 'an Englishman' which won't go down well in Caledonia), Mickey Mouse is Bob Cratchitt and Jiminy Cricket, Willie the Giant and that strange evil dog thing are the three Ghosts.
The best bit is when Willie the Giant (The Ghost of Christmas Present) takes Ebeneezer stomping through the streets to Bob Cratchitt's house, removing the top of a lamppost to make a torch and lifting rooftops to check inside. It's the only bit of creativity and stands out a mile.
So, it's a 4/10. But a good one. This is a 4/10 film that I'll watch again next year and again the year after.
The best bit is when Willie the Giant (The Ghost of Christmas Present) takes Ebeneezer stomping through the streets to Bob Cratchitt's house, removing the top of a lamppost to make a torch and lifting rooftops to check inside. It's the only bit of creativity and stands out a mile.
So, it's a 4/10. But a good one. This is a 4/10 film that I'll watch again next year and again the year after.
Friday, 12 December 2008
The Ballad of Cable Hogue (1970)
First viewing.
My prior knowledge of Peckinpah extends to single viewings of 'The Wild Bunch' and 'Straw Dogs' and a vague knowledge that he made films about men for men. With this in mind, a tail-end Western with hints of romance, screwball comedy, revenge thriller and musical took me aback somewhat. Or was it the fact that Jason Robards and the excellent Stella Stevens looked a little too like Bill from 'Kill Bill' romancing Gail Tilsley that I found so disconcerting?
Either way, I found the film enjoyable but slight. Robards pulls off the sly trick of getting the audience rooting for Cable Hogue but not really liking him ("don't make me out no saint, but don't put me down too deep") while David Warner does a smashing job as the preacher/con-man Joshua ("Since I cannot rouse heaven I intend to raise hell").
The premise of the story is that Robards makes his fortune while waiting to take revenge upon his two ex-partners who abandoned him to die in the middle of the desert (and is it just me who imagines that the desert would be half-full of men left to die, there are a few in every Western) but that revenge is a wasted emotion and an ultimately unfulfilling act. THAT, I loved. "'Vengeance is mine' sayeth the Lord" quoted the preacher during an early scene and- we are shown- forgiveness is the more satisfactory act for Hogue.
Against the backdrop of this is the 1908 setting- the coming of the motor car, the development of modern cities, the death of the 'old ways', the power of the bankers- and the end of the Western era. A man out of step with the changing times turns his back on the revenge he had waited years to enact and finds contentment. As an elegy for the civilisation of the west, it makes a lovely story. Even if the awkwardness of the genre-swapping robs the story of much of its power, its plot holes (that bank loan!) are more than compensated for by some smashing cinematography.
I bet that I enjoy this film a lot more on second viewing but, for now, it gets a solid 6/10.
My prior knowledge of Peckinpah extends to single viewings of 'The Wild Bunch' and 'Straw Dogs' and a vague knowledge that he made films about men for men. With this in mind, a tail-end Western with hints of romance, screwball comedy, revenge thriller and musical took me aback somewhat. Or was it the fact that Jason Robards and the excellent Stella Stevens looked a little too like Bill from 'Kill Bill' romancing Gail Tilsley that I found so disconcerting?
Either way, I found the film enjoyable but slight. Robards pulls off the sly trick of getting the audience rooting for Cable Hogue but not really liking him ("don't make me out no saint, but don't put me down too deep") while David Warner does a smashing job as the preacher/con-man Joshua ("Since I cannot rouse heaven I intend to raise hell").
The premise of the story is that Robards makes his fortune while waiting to take revenge upon his two ex-partners who abandoned him to die in the middle of the desert (and is it just me who imagines that the desert would be half-full of men left to die, there are a few in every Western) but that revenge is a wasted emotion and an ultimately unfulfilling act. THAT, I loved. "'Vengeance is mine' sayeth the Lord" quoted the preacher during an early scene and- we are shown- forgiveness is the more satisfactory act for Hogue.
Against the backdrop of this is the 1908 setting- the coming of the motor car, the development of modern cities, the death of the 'old ways', the power of the bankers- and the end of the Western era. A man out of step with the changing times turns his back on the revenge he had waited years to enact and finds contentment. As an elegy for the civilisation of the west, it makes a lovely story. Even if the awkwardness of the genre-swapping robs the story of much of its power, its plot holes (that bank loan!) are more than compensated for by some smashing cinematography.
I bet that I enjoy this film a lot more on second viewing but, for now, it gets a solid 6/10.
Sunday, 30 November 2008
Mona Lisa (1986)
This has been waiting on my shelf to be watched (on video, then on DVD) for the best part of twenty years. I've wanted to watch it since its cinema release, when I was too young. Eventually when I could watch it, I suddenly didn't want to as it could only be an anti-climax. And somehow over the years, that pessimism has become a belief that it's a poor film that I won't enjoy.
But I did enjoy it and, somewhat inevitably, it is neither as good as I once believed nor as bad as I once feared. 'Mona Lisa' stands as a relevant and pertinent story today (it should, it's simply a story of unrequited love) but looks horribly dated in style. There are lots of soft-focus close-ups of Tyson or of Tyson with Hoskins and it begins to look a bit like a Gold Blend advert. It is harsh, perhaps, to judge a film out of context like that, but it's how I feel. In addition to this Michael Caine plays- with the exception of his first appearance on screen when he actually has a crack at acting- Michael Caine. And there is a horrible Genesis song on the soundtrack. And the sight of Hoskins kicking two larger men during the closing scenes, when placed alongside two dwarves kicking one another, is reduced to farce when the tension really needs to be maintained and not relieved.
But aside from these minor quibbles, the film is good. Cathy Tyson plays a fine role, though her accent wavers occasionally this helps establish her as someone trying to conceal her origins and past. Bob Hoskins, though, is occasionally excellent as the bewildered and confused George, and always good- though some of the 'angry' scenes could be Bob in any number of his past roles and that dilutes their effectiveness.
The strained relationship between George and his daughter is too easily resolved to be plausible and the appearance of a white horse over is heavy-handed and unnecessary but the film is strong overall.
It is a good film, but patchy. Some parts are excellent, some are good and others disappointing- which is, perhaps, exactly what I expected. 7/10.
But I did enjoy it and, somewhat inevitably, it is neither as good as I once believed nor as bad as I once feared. 'Mona Lisa' stands as a relevant and pertinent story today (it should, it's simply a story of unrequited love) but looks horribly dated in style. There are lots of soft-focus close-ups of Tyson or of Tyson with Hoskins and it begins to look a bit like a Gold Blend advert. It is harsh, perhaps, to judge a film out of context like that, but it's how I feel. In addition to this Michael Caine plays- with the exception of his first appearance on screen when he actually has a crack at acting- Michael Caine. And there is a horrible Genesis song on the soundtrack. And the sight of Hoskins kicking two larger men during the closing scenes, when placed alongside two dwarves kicking one another, is reduced to farce when the tension really needs to be maintained and not relieved.
But aside from these minor quibbles, the film is good. Cathy Tyson plays a fine role, though her accent wavers occasionally this helps establish her as someone trying to conceal her origins and past. Bob Hoskins, though, is occasionally excellent as the bewildered and confused George, and always good- though some of the 'angry' scenes could be Bob in any number of his past roles and that dilutes their effectiveness.
The strained relationship between George and his daughter is too easily resolved to be plausible and the appearance of a white horse over is heavy-handed and unnecessary but the film is strong overall.
It is a good film, but patchy. Some parts are excellent, some are good and others disappointing- which is, perhaps, exactly what I expected. 7/10.
Monday, 24 November 2008
Soylent Green (1973)
I don't like Charlton Heston. I don't like him as an actor and I didn't like him as a man- though the man he was in the 60s was admirable, by the 80s he was an utter wanker. I don't like how he bullied his way onto Orson Welles' fantastic 'Touch of Evil'. I don't like how his acting technique consists of drawing his lips back over his teeth to express his entire range of emotions. I don't like how he punctuates sentences by. Putting an unnecessary full-stop in the middle.
But I often like the films he stars in despite him starring in them. This was one of them. Coming after Planet of the Apes and The Omega Man, this was a third sci-fi drama set in a dystopian future he made in five years. And he plays more or less the same character again.
What makes this film, however, is the magnificent supporting performance from Edward G. Robinson. He is compelling. It's also curious to see how this one-time screen tough guy is about half the size of Heston.
Robinson's performance needed to be good, though as he had a hell of a lot of film to carry. This is your standard seventies sci-fi in which everyone wears flared lapels and trousers and Richard Fleischer (who I've already put the boot into in the past week or so) spells out everything for the viewer in triplicate. Soylent Green was dumbed down before dumbing down was invented. The 'twist' therefore can be predicted inside the first ten minutes. Stick with the film past that, though, until Edward G's death scene which is pretty moving actually.
Finally, in a film where one screen legend puts in a bravura performance another (Joseph Cotten) simply turns up to collect his paycheck. The producers of 'Ashanti' should have noticed how Fleischer failed to get a performance out of a man who is capable of so much more, they could have saved themselves a bomb.
This is the usual 'future of man is in peril through our own greed/stupidity' bollocks which is single-handedly made watchable by Edward G. Robinson. 4/10.
But I often like the films he stars in despite him starring in them. This was one of them. Coming after Planet of the Apes and The Omega Man, this was a third sci-fi drama set in a dystopian future he made in five years. And he plays more or less the same character again.
What makes this film, however, is the magnificent supporting performance from Edward G. Robinson. He is compelling. It's also curious to see how this one-time screen tough guy is about half the size of Heston.
Robinson's performance needed to be good, though as he had a hell of a lot of film to carry. This is your standard seventies sci-fi in which everyone wears flared lapels and trousers and Richard Fleischer (who I've already put the boot into in the past week or so) spells out everything for the viewer in triplicate. Soylent Green was dumbed down before dumbing down was invented. The 'twist' therefore can be predicted inside the first ten minutes. Stick with the film past that, though, until Edward G's death scene which is pretty moving actually.
Finally, in a film where one screen legend puts in a bravura performance another (Joseph Cotten) simply turns up to collect his paycheck. The producers of 'Ashanti' should have noticed how Fleischer failed to get a performance out of a man who is capable of so much more, they could have saved themselves a bomb.
This is the usual 'future of man is in peril through our own greed/stupidity' bollocks which is single-handedly made watchable by Edward G. Robinson. 4/10.
Saturday, 15 November 2008
The Devil Rides Out (1968)
This is pure Hammer and, therefore, utterly lovable- if hardly worthy of admiration. It is an entertaining period horror which is taken very seriously by the actors and less so by the effects staff (see how they shrink back in fear as the magnified backscreen projection of a tarantula or a horse with cardboard wings stalks them!).
By modern standards it's about as scary as being attacked by a goldfish being neither psychologically disturbing or making you jump, but that isn't the point. It is entertainment- more thriller than horror. Christopher Lee is a deeply sinister hero, Charles Gray a compelling villain and the script races along with surprising depth and a refreshing lack of predictability.
If you can show me another film where Prime Minister Jim Hacker knocks out a bloke from Emmerdale Farm with one punch, I'll eat my hat. 6/10.
By modern standards it's about as scary as being attacked by a goldfish being neither psychologically disturbing or making you jump, but that isn't the point. It is entertainment- more thriller than horror. Christopher Lee is a deeply sinister hero, Charles Gray a compelling villain and the script races along with surprising depth and a refreshing lack of predictability.
If you can show me another film where Prime Minister Jim Hacker knocks out a bloke from Emmerdale Farm with one punch, I'll eat my hat. 6/10.
Monday, 10 November 2008
Judgement at Nuremburg (1961)
There are some films where the worthy subject-matter allows me to ignore the poorer aspects of what I'm seeing. It's the opposite of admiring a Leni Riefenstahl film I suppose (I've deliberately never seen one for that very reason).
There are faults in this film. Some of the performances are a bit stagey, the film's pacing is uneven and the messages are rammed home with little subtlety and are overly preachy. But the film is important and dramatic and features some magnificent performances (most importantly from Montgomery Clift, Spencer Tracy and Maximilian Schell but also- a pleasant surprise for me this- a subtler-than-usual Burt Lancaster).
For telling a complex, important and challenging story with clarity and impact- 7/10.
There are faults in this film. Some of the performances are a bit stagey, the film's pacing is uneven and the messages are rammed home with little subtlety and are overly preachy. But the film is important and dramatic and features some magnificent performances (most importantly from Montgomery Clift, Spencer Tracy and Maximilian Schell but also- a pleasant surprise for me this- a subtler-than-usual Burt Lancaster).
For telling a complex, important and challenging story with clarity and impact- 7/10.
Saturday, 1 November 2008
Team America: World Police (2004)
I've never seen South Park. It's one of my to-do things (along with watching The Sopranos, The Wire and growing up a bit). But I know that it is irreverent, profane and takes no prisoners. That's plenty enough preparation for this.
It's not as clever as it would like to think. It says that America being "the world's policeman" rides roughshod over everything in its own interest, that lefty Hollywood stars are a self-important, uninformed and gushing and that Jerry Bruckheimer-style blockbusters are predictable and stilted. This isn't an ambitious movie- how many soft targets do you want to hit? It's not enough to take the piss out of Michael Moore if you're basically doing the same schtick.
But it is sporadically funny, well-made and the songs are worth hearing at least once. 4/10.
It's not as clever as it would like to think. It says that America being "the world's policeman" rides roughshod over everything in its own interest, that lefty Hollywood stars are a self-important, uninformed and gushing and that Jerry Bruckheimer-style blockbusters are predictable and stilted. This isn't an ambitious movie- how many soft targets do you want to hit? It's not enough to take the piss out of Michael Moore if you're basically doing the same schtick.
But it is sporadically funny, well-made and the songs are worth hearing at least once. 4/10.
Thursday, 30 October 2008
Stranger than Paradise (1984)
What I absolutely love about Jarmusch films is the fact that he shows bored people doing nothing and it looks so fucking appealing. Way before the Richard Linklater/Kurt Cobain/Grunge slacker fad of the 1990s, Jarmusch was filling the screen with slacker icons. Only in way cooler threads.
I watched Down By Law for the first time the other day and, reviewing the storyline on here, used seven words. This film takes nine: three people drift together, drift around then drift apart. The narrative idea- to take a staple dramatic device (chancing upon a stash of criminals' cash and taking it) and place it at the climax rather than the outset- is interesting but downplayed. Plot is not important here.
There are lots of still, silent shots of people sat doing nothing. It is a beautiful film of dull subjects. The mundanity of the protaganists' lives, their lack of direction or aspiration is writ large. If I could have anyone make the film of my ridiculous, nondescript life I'd want a Jim Jarmusch film. His style and vision would make the rundown, grime of West Bromwich look like the place it still is in my head.
The main character of the three Bela/Willie is played beautifully by John Lurie. He looks great, like Belmondo in 'À Bout de Souffle', but his hipster style is betrayed by his bemoaning the repeated airings of Screamin' Jay Hawkins' 'I Put A Spell On You'. The style is superficial, it doesn't matter to him. Nothing does. This is reinforced by the aping of his style by Eddie (Richard Edson) he wants the look to be like Willie, but he's not like Willie. The third main player is Eva, a recently arrived Hungarian emigree, played by Eszter Balint. She is the coolest of the three, but that's no great praise really. She looks square but is a bit more self-assured (though this is only once acknowledged, by Willie when she's- presumably- shoplifted some groceries) while the other two protagonists look cool but lack any verve or drive.
Stylistically, thematically, visually this is a classic. The character arc I'd have hoped for doesn't happen though, dragging this back to a still impressive 7/10.
An interesting note: the music of Screamin' Jay Hawkins plays a big part in this film and, entirely by chance, he had a cameo in the film I watched immediately prior to this 'Perdita Durango'. I'd have got good odds on that coincidence.
I watched Down By Law for the first time the other day and, reviewing the storyline on here, used seven words. This film takes nine: three people drift together, drift around then drift apart. The narrative idea- to take a staple dramatic device (chancing upon a stash of criminals' cash and taking it) and place it at the climax rather than the outset- is interesting but downplayed. Plot is not important here.
There are lots of still, silent shots of people sat doing nothing. It is a beautiful film of dull subjects. The mundanity of the protaganists' lives, their lack of direction or aspiration is writ large. If I could have anyone make the film of my ridiculous, nondescript life I'd want a Jim Jarmusch film. His style and vision would make the rundown, grime of West Bromwich look like the place it still is in my head.
The main character of the three Bela/Willie is played beautifully by John Lurie. He looks great, like Belmondo in 'À Bout de Souffle', but his hipster style is betrayed by his bemoaning the repeated airings of Screamin' Jay Hawkins' 'I Put A Spell On You'. The style is superficial, it doesn't matter to him. Nothing does. This is reinforced by the aping of his style by Eddie (Richard Edson) he wants the look to be like Willie, but he's not like Willie. The third main player is Eva, a recently arrived Hungarian emigree, played by Eszter Balint. She is the coolest of the three, but that's no great praise really. She looks square but is a bit more self-assured (though this is only once acknowledged, by Willie when she's- presumably- shoplifted some groceries) while the other two protagonists look cool but lack any verve or drive.
Stylistically, thematically, visually this is a classic. The character arc I'd have hoped for doesn't happen though, dragging this back to a still impressive 7/10.
An interesting note: the music of Screamin' Jay Hawkins plays a big part in this film and, entirely by chance, he had a cameo in the film I watched immediately prior to this 'Perdita Durango'. I'd have got good odds on that coincidence.
Wednesday, 29 October 2008
Perdita Durango (1997)
Javier Bardem does a solid job, James Gandolfini provides comical support and the action scenes are well staged. Right, there's three marks. But, that's it. This is such a very disappointing film.
The source material has enough to sustain two films but even so, this struggled to hold my attention. I'm not saying that nothing happened, plenty happens. Just not very well. It all seems so contrived. This is like compilation of outtakes from 'From Dusk Till Dawn' with music by a Bernard Herrmann impersonator. The film is stuffed with support actors grasping their moment in the sun overplaying a series of wacky characters. The small fortunes spent on a series of four-second flashback scenes would've been better employed replacing Álex de la Iglesia. He was simply overambitious with this film and tried to do too much. Too many quirky little incidents, too many humorous shots, too many amusing storyline cul-de-sacs and not enough control of the narrative of the film. I think that he definitely has a great film in him, but this isn't it. Not by a long way.
One thing I want to note down before I forget is the overwhelming impression I had that I was watching Bernard Bresslaw in a Mötley Crüe wig. Anton Chigurh's hair was salon-fresh compared to this horror show:
Anyway, I've been kind to Perdita Durango and not mentioned David Lynch, Isabella Rosselini or Wild At Heart and it still only gets 3/10. An overpriced B-movie, a Tarantino rip-off, a mess.
The source material has enough to sustain two films but even so, this struggled to hold my attention. I'm not saying that nothing happened, plenty happens. Just not very well. It all seems so contrived. This is like compilation of outtakes from 'From Dusk Till Dawn' with music by a Bernard Herrmann impersonator. The film is stuffed with support actors grasping their moment in the sun overplaying a series of wacky characters. The small fortunes spent on a series of four-second flashback scenes would've been better employed replacing Álex de la Iglesia. He was simply overambitious with this film and tried to do too much. Too many quirky little incidents, too many humorous shots, too many amusing storyline cul-de-sacs and not enough control of the narrative of the film. I think that he definitely has a great film in him, but this isn't it. Not by a long way.
One thing I want to note down before I forget is the overwhelming impression I had that I was watching Bernard Bresslaw in a Mötley Crüe wig. Anton Chigurh's hair was salon-fresh compared to this horror show:
Anyway, I've been kind to Perdita Durango and not mentioned David Lynch, Isabella Rosselini or Wild At Heart and it still only gets 3/10. An overpriced B-movie, a Tarantino rip-off, a mess.
Friday, 24 October 2008
The Cincinatti Kid (1965)
Any film where the premise is that Steve McQueen faces off against Edward G. Robinson doesn't have to try very hard to be gripping, but this one does. It's a sports movie and so the usual love interest/bad kid made good stuff is included, but it is peripheral.
The direction and cinematography of the movie (both excellent for me) are focused solely on the poker game conclusion. All else is background. Just as the players push everything else out of their mind, during the game so does the director. And what a finale- McQueen's ice-cube cool and Robinson's world-weary confidence are staged against a Greek chorus of watchers "he has the jack!", "no way does he have the jack".
The only way you can be the man is to beat the man, and beat him fair and square. The support players (Malden, Rip Torn and Ann-Margret) are all pushing for the kid to cheat, but he takes the only honourable path and faces him fairly.
This is a superior level of sports drama between two absolute masters. Great stuff 8/10.
The direction and cinematography of the movie (both excellent for me) are focused solely on the poker game conclusion. All else is background. Just as the players push everything else out of their mind, during the game so does the director. And what a finale- McQueen's ice-cube cool and Robinson's world-weary confidence are staged against a Greek chorus of watchers "he has the jack!", "no way does he have the jack".
The only way you can be the man is to beat the man, and beat him fair and square. The support players (Malden, Rip Torn and Ann-Margret) are all pushing for the kid to cheat, but he takes the only honourable path and faces him fairly.
This is a superior level of sports drama between two absolute masters. Great stuff 8/10.
Wednesday, 22 October 2008
All About My Mother / Todo sobre mi madre (1999)
One of the things I've noticed as I've begun recording these thoughts for myself is that it is far easier to criticise than praise. For 'All About My Mother' I could simply write "Astonishing. 9/10". This is a film that looks at women on the margins of 'normal' life and speaks with depth and interest about motherhood and pretence and expectations and forgiveness and stoicism and compassion and gender and love and sin and theatricality and human frailty and the arts and inspiration and mortality and sexuality and sensuality.
Almodóvar relates stories of interest that are grounded in reality but have an emotional and intellectual depth which invites repeated viewings. Yes, his films look great, yes they have a warmth and human atmosphere, yes he gets great performances from his performers and yes he tells great stories, but his films go beyond all of that. They are all of those things and they are theses on the human condition in addition. Right now I can't think of anyone else in cinema today who challenges and conspires with me as a viewer to anywhere near the same degree. I think he is amazing.
One other thing I've noticed about writing these notes is that they channel my thinking about what I've seen and as I write them I often adjust my rating as a result. Usually, the score goes down as I focus upon the flaws in what I've seen. All About My Mother - 10/10.
Almodóvar relates stories of interest that are grounded in reality but have an emotional and intellectual depth which invites repeated viewings. Yes, his films look great, yes they have a warmth and human atmosphere, yes he gets great performances from his performers and yes he tells great stories, but his films go beyond all of that. They are all of those things and they are theses on the human condition in addition. Right now I can't think of anyone else in cinema today who challenges and conspires with me as a viewer to anywhere near the same degree. I think he is amazing.
One other thing I've noticed about writing these notes is that they channel my thinking about what I've seen and as I write them I often adjust my rating as a result. Usually, the score goes down as I focus upon the flaws in what I've seen. All About My Mother - 10/10.
Monday, 13 October 2008
Down By Law (1986)
Entirely by chance, the second film I watched this evening was contemporaneous with the first (Howard the Duck). I'm not sure that I can think of another similarity between the two. And that is the wonder of this film in a nutshell. This film is excellent because there is nothing here that there should be in a conventional movie.
The plot is as follows: three men are imprisoned together and escape. That's it.
You don't even see how they escape, one of the guys says that he has thought up a plan and in the next scene they're free. The most dramatic part of the story happens off-screen. It doesn't matter how they did it, after all, all that matters is that they did. The film is about how they feel- a dramatic Steve McQueen motorcycle jump would have been superfluous.
This film isn't episodic, dramatic, exciting, colourful, full of surprise twists or complex snappy dialogue. The trailer must've been a bitch to cut because for long periods literally nothing happens. Tracking shots or silent footage of characters ignoring one another set to a gruff musical soundtrack take up a huge proportion of the film. There are three lead characters and one barely appears until about halfway in. They are very real and grounded characters in a fearful situation desperately trying to hide their fear. They don't like each other, they don't really learn to get on, they don't especially develop, Jarmusch simply allows the audience to gradually share their deeper emotions. A great director placing his trust in the actors, giving them time and space to deliver: it is a marvel of understatement.
The intelligence that shines through repeatedly (the first example that springs to mind is the shack that the three men find following the jailbreak being a replica of their shared cell) isn't self-indulgent or self-serving, but delivered with warmth.
This is a dark, slow, visually striking, engaging, atmospheric and thought-provoking modern day fairytale. A real feast. 9/10.
The plot is as follows: three men are imprisoned together and escape. That's it.
You don't even see how they escape, one of the guys says that he has thought up a plan and in the next scene they're free. The most dramatic part of the story happens off-screen. It doesn't matter how they did it, after all, all that matters is that they did. The film is about how they feel- a dramatic Steve McQueen motorcycle jump would have been superfluous.
This film isn't episodic, dramatic, exciting, colourful, full of surprise twists or complex snappy dialogue. The trailer must've been a bitch to cut because for long periods literally nothing happens. Tracking shots or silent footage of characters ignoring one another set to a gruff musical soundtrack take up a huge proportion of the film. There are three lead characters and one barely appears until about halfway in. They are very real and grounded characters in a fearful situation desperately trying to hide their fear. They don't like each other, they don't really learn to get on, they don't especially develop, Jarmusch simply allows the audience to gradually share their deeper emotions. A great director placing his trust in the actors, giving them time and space to deliver: it is a marvel of understatement.
The intelligence that shines through repeatedly (the first example that springs to mind is the shack that the three men find following the jailbreak being a replica of their shared cell) isn't self-indulgent or self-serving, but delivered with warmth.
This is a dark, slow, visually striking, engaging, atmospheric and thought-provoking modern day fairytale. A real feast. 9/10.
Thursday, 2 October 2008
The Hunter (1980)
I love Steve McQueen. I think that he's just about my favourite actor ever. McQueen understood the truth of the saying 'less is more' than anyone I've ever seen. And so I've avoided seeing this for years. Knowing that he made it whilst becoming ill, I didn't want to see him diminished.
McQueen himself knew that he was aging fast and needed a new direction, his coveted project 'An Enemy of the People' shows that much (another film I've yet to see, but one that I'm intrigued to) but this film shows the way his career would've gone and it isn't pretty.
'The Hunter' is a poor movie. As with many films based on someone's life story it is episodic and a little too much care is paid to not hurting anyone's feelings. The only real villain is a 2-D psychopath who gets as little screen time as is logistically possible. And so we end up with what seems like a few episodes of 'The Fall Guy' strung together to justify some pretty decent stunt work. It ends in about the most cloying way imaginable. The soundtrack is laughable. It looks like a TV movie- I've never heard of the director, perhaps that's what his day job is. In fact, you could run the film for an hour opening with Eli Wallach and the parents of the kid Bernardo and the only thing you would miss is seeing McQueen fight one of the biggest men you've ever seen and get distracted by a train set (kids toys are a constant presence in the film, they were McQueen's own- as were a couple of the cars). The film is most notable for a great chase with McQueen in a combine harvester chasing a Trans Am through a cornfield and an even better foot chase ending with McQueen hanging off a the side of a subway train.
Aside from those two set-pieces, the production values are pretty poor and no-one seems to care at all how the movie turns out, but that kind of saves it too. McQueen is having such a good time sending himself up (his character 'Papa' Thorson is a terrible driver who freely admits that he's "getting too old for this shit") that the charm of his performance saves the movie. He is out of shape and struggles during the action scenes but doesn't get a corset on like William Shatner, he just shows the character as he would have been.
As I said earlier, this shows the way McQueen's career would have gone. He couldn't get serious dramatic work and would've ended up parodying himself. To do this once shows self-awareness and a lack of bullshit- to keep doing it is to become Sylvester Stallone.
Anyway, a poor movie saved by some decent stunts, solid work from Eli Wallach and LeVar Burton and a charming performance by my all-time favourite actor. 5/10
McQueen himself knew that he was aging fast and needed a new direction, his coveted project 'An Enemy of the People' shows that much (another film I've yet to see, but one that I'm intrigued to) but this film shows the way his career would've gone and it isn't pretty.
'The Hunter' is a poor movie. As with many films based on someone's life story it is episodic and a little too much care is paid to not hurting anyone's feelings. The only real villain is a 2-D psychopath who gets as little screen time as is logistically possible. And so we end up with what seems like a few episodes of 'The Fall Guy' strung together to justify some pretty decent stunt work. It ends in about the most cloying way imaginable. The soundtrack is laughable. It looks like a TV movie- I've never heard of the director, perhaps that's what his day job is. In fact, you could run the film for an hour opening with Eli Wallach and the parents of the kid Bernardo and the only thing you would miss is seeing McQueen fight one of the biggest men you've ever seen and get distracted by a train set (kids toys are a constant presence in the film, they were McQueen's own- as were a couple of the cars). The film is most notable for a great chase with McQueen in a combine harvester chasing a Trans Am through a cornfield and an even better foot chase ending with McQueen hanging off a the side of a subway train.
Aside from those two set-pieces, the production values are pretty poor and no-one seems to care at all how the movie turns out, but that kind of saves it too. McQueen is having such a good time sending himself up (his character 'Papa' Thorson is a terrible driver who freely admits that he's "getting too old for this shit") that the charm of his performance saves the movie. He is out of shape and struggles during the action scenes but doesn't get a corset on like William Shatner, he just shows the character as he would have been.
As I said earlier, this shows the way McQueen's career would have gone. He couldn't get serious dramatic work and would've ended up parodying himself. To do this once shows self-awareness and a lack of bullshit- to keep doing it is to become Sylvester Stallone.
Anyway, a poor movie saved by some decent stunts, solid work from Eli Wallach and LeVar Burton and a charming performance by my all-time favourite actor. 5/10
Monday, 29 September 2008
Damien: Omen II (1978)
Whoo-hoo! An overblown horror sequel, I haven't watched one of these since I started recording my thoughts on here. I love and hate these in equal measure because they tend to be entertainingly and depressingly mindless. Again in equal measure.
All of the ingredients are in place- a Hollywood great in a lead role (in this case William Holden), an over-the-top musical score by Jerry Goldsmith and a ludicrous plot which touches only occasionally on plausibility and is designed to facilitate increasingly garish and lurid deaths- the Omen series seems to specialise in decapitations.
Okay, on with the ludicrous plot. Damien- the devil's son- has killed everyone who came to suspect his true identity and is being raised by his wealthy uncle. In the first film a black dog appeared whenever someone was about to die, I think the dog must've already had filming commitments for another movie as that most pivotal of roles has now been taken by a crow. It works like this- a scene looks normal, the crow appears accompanied by bombastic music, someone who suspects Damien's true identity dies. In fact, one bloke dies just for trying to stop one of Damien's acolytes (a bloke off Falcon Crest) from restricting the supply of foods to starving nations.
The deaths are the reason that people go to see these things and they range from the sublime (a Doctor finds that Damien has the cell structure of a jackal and takes a lift pressing to go down but the lift takes the doctor to the top floor and then plummets causing the Doctor to be chopped in half as he lies on the floor) to the ridiculous (A reporter in a fabulous red coat tries to warn Damien's adopted parents after seeing his face in a painting by a thirteenth century prophet- she is blinded by the crow in a fantastically unrealistic scene and staggers in front of a huge juggernaut which she seemingly can't hear and which doesn't stop after turning her into roadkill).
My favourite, though, is the opening scene where Rumpole and the bloke who Michael Caine chases down by the slagheaps in Get Carter are crushed by a falling roof after seeing a painting of the devil that supposedly looks like Damien. It doesn't really: Damien - Painting. See?
The best part of the film is when a growing number of people learn of Damien's secret identity. William Holden is already having serious doubts- I expect being told that your adopted son has the same cell structure as a jackal would do that to you- and an employee of Holden's gets hold of Rumpole's evidence (dug out of the collapsed archaeological site) and rushes to tell him. Holden refuses to listen but his son Mark- Damien's closest friend- overhears and is convinced. Damien's adopted mother is told by Holden what has gone on but doesn't believe it.
Now that there are at least three possible candidates for the morgue, the pressure is really cranking up - it's like eviction night in the Big Brother house. Who will get offed first? And how? The deaths have been increasingly elaborate and exciting, can it get any better than being bisected on an elevator floor? No. Of course it can't. It was silly to even hope for it.
Mark goes out for a walk in the snow and is followed by Damien (and an ominous orchestra). They argue when Mark refuses to join the devil's gang and then the music stops while Damien tortures him by looking at him till his ears hurt and he falls down dead. A-ha I was right, they blew the budget on the lift scene as there are no special effects at all- not even music- just a kid clasping his hands to his ears and then falling over. Wank. Total wank.
Anyway, they all have to go now that they know- William Holden goes to visit his employee wearing a Burberry scarf and together they look at the thirteenth century painting which has been loaded onto a train. As he waits outside, the employee is crushed between a runaway train and a stationary one. William has seen the painting and seen the dead man. He knows that Damien is the son of the devil and rushes back to meet his wife and Damien at the museum where the knives that Gregory Peck tried to kill Damien with in the original are held. Now I'd have fucking legged it sharpish but that's why William Holden is a matinee idol and I'm a movie freak- he's got king-sized balls and he doesn't sweat killing Beelzebub in front of the devil's adopted mother. But stabs him dead first with the sarcastic words "there are your daggers". She'd make a good James Bond. if she wasn't in league with the devil- who also happens to be her son. Anyway, in gratitude Damien burns her and the museum to the ground. So now that everyone bar Damien is dead, the evidence is destroyed and the weapons that can kill him are gone up in flames the film ends. Good.
It's preposterous and it's supposed to be but it's just not unsettling and it's supposed to be. Accomplishing both- as the original did- would be an 8/10. Getting it half-right nets it a 4/10.
All of the ingredients are in place- a Hollywood great in a lead role (in this case William Holden), an over-the-top musical score by Jerry Goldsmith and a ludicrous plot which touches only occasionally on plausibility and is designed to facilitate increasingly garish and lurid deaths- the Omen series seems to specialise in decapitations.
Okay, on with the ludicrous plot. Damien- the devil's son- has killed everyone who came to suspect his true identity and is being raised by his wealthy uncle. In the first film a black dog appeared whenever someone was about to die, I think the dog must've already had filming commitments for another movie as that most pivotal of roles has now been taken by a crow. It works like this- a scene looks normal, the crow appears accompanied by bombastic music, someone who suspects Damien's true identity dies. In fact, one bloke dies just for trying to stop one of Damien's acolytes (a bloke off Falcon Crest) from restricting the supply of foods to starving nations.
The deaths are the reason that people go to see these things and they range from the sublime (a Doctor finds that Damien has the cell structure of a jackal and takes a lift pressing to go down but the lift takes the doctor to the top floor and then plummets causing the Doctor to be chopped in half as he lies on the floor) to the ridiculous (A reporter in a fabulous red coat tries to warn Damien's adopted parents after seeing his face in a painting by a thirteenth century prophet- she is blinded by the crow in a fantastically unrealistic scene and staggers in front of a huge juggernaut which she seemingly can't hear and which doesn't stop after turning her into roadkill).
My favourite, though, is the opening scene where Rumpole and the bloke who Michael Caine chases down by the slagheaps in Get Carter are crushed by a falling roof after seeing a painting of the devil that supposedly looks like Damien. It doesn't really: Damien - Painting. See?
The best part of the film is when a growing number of people learn of Damien's secret identity. William Holden is already having serious doubts- I expect being told that your adopted son has the same cell structure as a jackal would do that to you- and an employee of Holden's gets hold of Rumpole's evidence (dug out of the collapsed archaeological site) and rushes to tell him. Holden refuses to listen but his son Mark- Damien's closest friend- overhears and is convinced. Damien's adopted mother is told by Holden what has gone on but doesn't believe it.
Now that there are at least three possible candidates for the morgue, the pressure is really cranking up - it's like eviction night in the Big Brother house. Who will get offed first? And how? The deaths have been increasingly elaborate and exciting, can it get any better than being bisected on an elevator floor? No. Of course it can't. It was silly to even hope for it.
Mark goes out for a walk in the snow and is followed by Damien (and an ominous orchestra). They argue when Mark refuses to join the devil's gang and then the music stops while Damien tortures him by looking at him till his ears hurt and he falls down dead. A-ha I was right, they blew the budget on the lift scene as there are no special effects at all- not even music- just a kid clasping his hands to his ears and then falling over. Wank. Total wank.
Anyway, they all have to go now that they know- William Holden goes to visit his employee wearing a Burberry scarf and together they look at the thirteenth century painting which has been loaded onto a train. As he waits outside, the employee is crushed between a runaway train and a stationary one. William has seen the painting and seen the dead man. He knows that Damien is the son of the devil and rushes back to meet his wife and Damien at the museum where the knives that Gregory Peck tried to kill Damien with in the original are held. Now I'd have fucking legged it sharpish but that's why William Holden is a matinee idol and I'm a movie freak- he's got king-sized balls and he doesn't sweat killing Beelzebub in front of the devil's adopted mother. But stabs him dead first with the sarcastic words "there are your daggers". She'd make a good James Bond. if she wasn't in league with the devil- who also happens to be her son. Anyway, in gratitude Damien burns her and the museum to the ground. So now that everyone bar Damien is dead, the evidence is destroyed and the weapons that can kill him are gone up in flames the film ends. Good.
It's preposterous and it's supposed to be but it's just not unsettling and it's supposed to be. Accomplishing both- as the original did- would be an 8/10. Getting it half-right nets it a 4/10.
Friday, 26 September 2008
The Parallax View (1974)
Personally, I love a conspiracy theory. And I love the paranoid thrillers of the 1970s- most notably Polanski's 'Chinatown', Coppola's 'The Conversation' and 'All The President's Men' by Alan J Pakula. This film, also by Pakula, is less epic than those classics but is still pretty strong.
Warren Beatty stars (this is the important Beatty that I've read about in 'Easy Riders, Raging Bulls' and not the joke figure he became) and is pivotal. He's probably in over 50% of the shots over the whole course of the movie. And I think that's the problem, it isn't his performance- which is excellent- but the fact that Alan Pakula builds the movie around Beatty's character so that the viewer identifies strongly with him. The downside of this is that it excludes everyone else and some strong performances, most notably from Hume Cronyn, don't get the material that they merit. This is an hour and a half movie that would have benefitted from the addition of background colour taking it up to two hours.
The cinematography is excellent, the performances are strong, the story is fine- but it's one-dimensional. It is a good movie- 7/10- but the director would've done better to be a little more ambitious. As he indeed would be a couple of years later with 'All The President's Men'.
Warren Beatty stars (this is the important Beatty that I've read about in 'Easy Riders, Raging Bulls' and not the joke figure he became) and is pivotal. He's probably in over 50% of the shots over the whole course of the movie. And I think that's the problem, it isn't his performance- which is excellent- but the fact that Alan Pakula builds the movie around Beatty's character so that the viewer identifies strongly with him. The downside of this is that it excludes everyone else and some strong performances, most notably from Hume Cronyn, don't get the material that they merit. This is an hour and a half movie that would have benefitted from the addition of background colour taking it up to two hours.
The cinematography is excellent, the performances are strong, the story is fine- but it's one-dimensional. It is a good movie- 7/10- but the director would've done better to be a little more ambitious. As he indeed would be a couple of years later with 'All The President's Men'.
Sunday, 14 September 2008
Rasputin: The Mad Monk (1966)
All that I know about Rasputin (the historical figure) has be gleaned from the title of this Hammer movie and the bit I can remember from Boney M's disco hit "Rah-Rah-Rasputin, Russia's greatest love machine". So I'm in no position to verify the historical accuracy of the movie. And I don't care either way. I don't look to Hammer for historical facts, I look to them for entertainment. And this is entertaining. Entertaining crap.
Christopher Lee has a ball in the title role as a grubby, bearded, lecherous, womanising, brawling drunkard. Rasputin is everything that Dracula is not and Lee makes the most of the opportunity to cut loose . Aside from him, there is little to commend the movie- horror veteran Barbara Shelley does makes a great victim and the plot, such as it is, is entertaining enough. But you know that it's all guff.
Christopher Lee has a body-double for a dancing scene who is about half his size. In one scene there is a man in the background in contemporary clothes. In a pub full of bearded men- even Mr Barraclough from Porridge has a beard- one bloke stands around in a sixties side parting with neat sideburns. Not to worry, Rasputin chops his rubber hand off. He gets his in the end though when he is thrown out of the window and falls like the Clousea dummy that Dreyfuss beats up in his psychiatrist's office.
Anyway, this is a hammy Hammer. Completely OTT, entertaining throwaway nonsense. 4/10 including a bonus mark for Lee's obvious relish for his character.
One thing I really giggled over was the fact that Richard Pasco as Boris looked similar to Vladimir Putin. I wonder if Putin and Rasputin are related...
Christopher Lee has a ball in the title role as a grubby, bearded, lecherous, womanising, brawling drunkard. Rasputin is everything that Dracula is not and Lee makes the most of the opportunity to cut loose . Aside from him, there is little to commend the movie- horror veteran Barbara Shelley does makes a great victim and the plot, such as it is, is entertaining enough. But you know that it's all guff.
Christopher Lee has a body-double for a dancing scene who is about half his size. In one scene there is a man in the background in contemporary clothes. In a pub full of bearded men- even Mr Barraclough from Porridge has a beard- one bloke stands around in a sixties side parting with neat sideburns. Not to worry, Rasputin chops his rubber hand off. He gets his in the end though when he is thrown out of the window and falls like the Clousea dummy that Dreyfuss beats up in his psychiatrist's office.
Anyway, this is a hammy Hammer. Completely OTT, entertaining throwaway nonsense. 4/10 including a bonus mark for Lee's obvious relish for his character.
One thing I really giggled over was the fact that Richard Pasco as Boris looked similar to Vladimir Putin. I wonder if Putin and Rasputin are related...
Monday, 1 September 2008
Has Anybody Seen My Gal? (1952)
Set in the roaring twenties and with exquisitely-scrupulous period detail, this is- if you want it to be- a lovable, comedy drama in the vein of a family who suddenly become rich beyond their wildest dreams.
On the other hand, it is a searing excoriation of the corrupting effect of wealth and the divisive and unjust influence of societal expectations and the class system.
Charles Coburn is outstanding as a wealthy man who inveigles his way into a family home before secretly endowing them with $100,000. The sight of him dancing the Charleston is a real treat. There are great turns too from a beautiful young Piper Laurie, Larry Gates as the bemused father, Lynn Bari and child-star Gigi Perreau. Even Rock Hudson holds his own.
The cinematography is exquisite, there are a few sparkling gags (Coburn on his own awful 'surrealist' painting- "hanging's too good for it") and the plot moves at pace and with no real predictable moments. Overall, it's a gem. 8/10.
On the other hand, it is a searing excoriation of the corrupting effect of wealth and the divisive and unjust influence of societal expectations and the class system.
Charles Coburn is outstanding as a wealthy man who inveigles his way into a family home before secretly endowing them with $100,000. The sight of him dancing the Charleston is a real treat. There are great turns too from a beautiful young Piper Laurie, Larry Gates as the bemused father, Lynn Bari and child-star Gigi Perreau. Even Rock Hudson holds his own.
The cinematography is exquisite, there are a few sparkling gags (Coburn on his own awful 'surrealist' painting- "hanging's too good for it") and the plot moves at pace and with no real predictable moments. Overall, it's a gem. 8/10.
Thursday, 14 August 2008
Get Carter (1971)
Gritty, suspenseful, uncompromising. An iconic anti-hero fueled by fury and loathing. A perennially quotable script. Classy, eye-catching direction. Great performances all round. A tremendous soundtrack. A brilliant ending. Frankly, it's flawless - 10/10.
Hit Man (1972)
"You're a big cat, but don't try selling me no wolf ticket"
This is great fun when you know the original version because you can enjoy the "jived up" script and- I imagine- it is an enjoyable enough film if you haven't.
It basically follows the pattern of Mike Hodges' 'Get Carter' but relocated to the US and with the addition of a scene showing a drunken Tackett (Carter) at his brother's wake. American Footballer Bernie Casey does well enough in the title role, Pam Grier makes the most of her part, Sam Laws has a ball in his supporting role and Roger E. Moseley is fine as baby Huey. There's not much else to say really- it's a blaxploitation flick: superhuman black man thwarts all wrong-doers, shags nigh on eighty women in a weekend, calls everyone a nigger or a honky, dresses in a way that would stand out at a tranny convention and has his own funky wah-wah theme tune.
It's entertaining but it really isn't very good. 4/10.
This is great fun when you know the original version because you can enjoy the "jived up" script and- I imagine- it is an enjoyable enough film if you haven't.
It basically follows the pattern of Mike Hodges' 'Get Carter' but relocated to the US and with the addition of a scene showing a drunken Tackett (Carter) at his brother's wake. American Footballer Bernie Casey does well enough in the title role, Pam Grier makes the most of her part, Sam Laws has a ball in his supporting role and Roger E. Moseley is fine as baby Huey. There's not much else to say really- it's a blaxploitation flick: superhuman black man thwarts all wrong-doers, shags nigh on eighty women in a weekend, calls everyone a nigger or a honky, dresses in a way that would stand out at a tranny convention and has his own funky wah-wah theme tune.
It's entertaining but it really isn't very good. 4/10.
Get Carter (2000)
Tonight is a special night, at my mate Handsome Gav's house we're watching the three versions of Get Carter that we know about in reverse chronological order.
First up, Stallone's remake. I've never seen this but I remember Stallone doing a big cover story with Arena magazine ahead of the movie's scheduled cinematic release. In the interview Stallone was asked whether his Carter died at the end as Michael Caine's had in the original. His reply was that "he has a spiritual death and rebirth". Oh dear. The cinematic release was pulled then and this film went straight to DVD. Plenty to be wary of there.
I'm not going to dwell too long on this film, it is as woefully bad as I'd imagined, but I will just comment quickly on the liberties they've taken with the original. The dead brother Frank is renamed Richie for no apparent reason, his wife is brought back to life in the shape of Miranda Richardson (there's someone who really should know better), the gangster Kinnear- now renamed Jeremy Kinnear- is a gay billionaire computer programmer, Carter's Boss Les (formerly Sid) Fletcher gets to know about Carter and his girlfriend fifteen minutes in.
What they appear to have decided in conceiving this remake is that the original would benefit from a washed-out, anaemic, colourless visual style and looking like a car advert. In fully bringing the concept up to date, they roped in hot music producer Jellybean Benitez to add some dance beats to Roy Budd's superb original soundtrack. Jellybean is the man who wrote Madonna's "Holiday"- a song that is about as old as I am. Couldn't they get anyone better than that for fuck's sake?
The iconic moments in the original film are reproduced here in a sadly diluted form- "you're a big man but you're in bad shape" is delivered by a seated Stallone in a calm manner to a standing Caine cameoing in Alf Roberts' part (Stallone had to be seated I suppose, he's giving away about six inches to Caine) and "your eyes look like pissholes in the snow" becomes the frankly nonsensical "you look like cat's piss in the snow". They have attempted, I suppose, to create their own memorable dialogue but it is insipid and uninspired. Several times Stallone threatens to "take it to another level", Alan Cummings' "you know why I like golf?" speech is especially awful and only Stallone's "it's good to be home" after duffing up a local is at all interesting.
What they've done here is to shake up the script (change the order and several of the character names swap places in the script) it's a puny rewrite. By revealing that Carter can never go back from the outset the suspense that made the original is lost, instead we get a watered-down Carter (Caine's was driven by blind hatred, Stallone's is driven by a sense of remorse) who talks throughout about doing something right for once and making up for his mistakes. The dumbed-down script where a bloke from Scrubs appears throughout to talk to Carter and explain like a child's narrator what has happened so far is insulting. I got so angry watching this that it isn't funny.
Positives are very few and far between- Caine really gives his part every chance and that's the only one that I can think of. One good point, therefore, 1/10.get-carter-soundtrack-2000-score
Tonight is a special night, at my mate Handsome Gav's house we're watching the three versions of Get Carter that we know about in reverse chronological order.
First up, Stallone's remake. I've never seen this but I remember Stallone doing a big cover story with Arena magazine ahead of the movie's scheduled cinematic release. In the interview Stallone was asked whether his Carter died at the end as Michael Caine's had in the original. His reply was that "he has a spiritual death and rebirth". Oh dear. The cinematic release was pulled then and this film went straight to DVD. Plenty to be wary of there.
I'm not going to dwell too long on this film, it is as woefully bad as I'd imagined, but I will just comment quickly on the liberties they've taken with the original. The dead brother Frank is renamed Richie for no apparent reason, his wife is brought back to life in the shape of Miranda Richardson (there's someone who really should know better), the gangster Kinnear- now renamed Jeremy Kinnear- is a gay billionaire computer programmer, Carter's Boss Les (formerly Sid) Fletcher gets to know about Carter and his girlfriend fifteen minutes in.
What they appear to have decided in conceiving this remake is that the original would benefit from a washed-out, anaemic, colourless visual style and looking like a car advert. In fully bringing the concept up to date, they roped in hot music producer Jellybean Benitez to add some dance beats to Roy Budd's superb original soundtrack. Jellybean is the man who wrote Madonna's "Holiday"- a song that is about as old as I am. Couldn't they get anyone better than that for fuck's sake?
The iconic moments in the original film are reproduced here in a sadly diluted form- "you're a big man but you're in bad shape" is delivered by a seated Stallone in a calm manner to a standing Caine cameoing in Alf Roberts' part (Stallone had to be seated I suppose, he's giving away about six inches to Caine) and "your eyes look like pissholes in the snow" becomes the frankly nonsensical "you look like cat's piss in the snow". They have attempted, I suppose, to create their own memorable dialogue but it is insipid and uninspired. Several times Stallone threatens to "take it to another level", Alan Cummings' "you know why I like golf?" speech is especially awful and only Stallone's "it's good to be home" after duffing up a local is at all interesting.
What they've done here is to shake up the script (change the order and several of the character names swap places in the script) it's a puny rewrite. By revealing that Carter can never go back from the outset the suspense that made the original is lost, instead we get a watered-down Carter (Caine's was driven by blind hatred, Stallone's is driven by a sense of remorse) who talks throughout about doing something right for once and making up for his mistakes. The dumbed-down script where a bloke from Scrubs appears throughout to talk to Carter and explain like a child's narrator what has happened so far is insulting. I got so angry watching this that it isn't funny.
Positives are very few and far between- Caine really gives his part every chance and that's the only one that I can think of. One good point, therefore, 1/10.
First up, Stallone's remake. I've never seen this but I remember Stallone doing a big cover story with Arena magazine ahead of the movie's scheduled cinematic release. In the interview Stallone was asked whether his Carter died at the end as Michael Caine's had in the original. His reply was that "he has a spiritual death and rebirth". Oh dear. The cinematic release was pulled then and this film went straight to DVD. Plenty to be wary of there.
I'm not going to dwell too long on this film, it is as woefully bad as I'd imagined, but I will just comment quickly on the liberties they've taken with the original. The dead brother Frank is renamed Richie for no apparent reason, his wife is brought back to life in the shape of Miranda Richardson (there's someone who really should know better), the gangster Kinnear- now renamed Jeremy Kinnear- is a gay billionaire computer programmer, Carter's Boss Les (formerly Sid) Fletcher gets to know about Carter and his girlfriend fifteen minutes in.
What they appear to have decided in conceiving this remake is that the original would benefit from a washed-out, anaemic, colourless visual style and looking like a car advert. In fully bringing the concept up to date, they roped in hot music producer Jellybean Benitez to add some dance beats to Roy Budd's superb original soundtrack. Jellybean is the man who wrote Madonna's "Holiday"- a song that is about as old as I am. Couldn't they get anyone better than that for fuck's sake?
The iconic moments in the original film are reproduced here in a sadly diluted form- "you're a big man but you're in bad shape" is delivered by a seated Stallone in a calm manner to a standing Caine cameoing in Alf Roberts' part (Stallone had to be seated I suppose, he's giving away about six inches to Caine) and "your eyes look like pissholes in the snow" becomes the frankly nonsensical "you look like cat's piss in the snow". They have attempted, I suppose, to create their own memorable dialogue but it is insipid and uninspired. Several times Stallone threatens to "take it to another level", Alan Cummings' "you know why I like golf?" speech is especially awful and only Stallone's "it's good to be home" after duffing up a local is at all interesting.
What they've done here is to shake up the script (change the order and several of the character names swap places in the script) it's a puny rewrite. By revealing that Carter can never go back from the outset the suspense that made the original is lost, instead we get a watered-down Carter (Caine's was driven by blind hatred, Stallone's is driven by a sense of remorse) who talks throughout about doing something right for once and making up for his mistakes. The dumbed-down script where a bloke from Scrubs appears throughout to talk to Carter and explain like a child's narrator what has happened so far is insulting. I got so angry watching this that it isn't funny.
Positives are very few and far between- Caine really gives his part every chance and that's the only one that I can think of. One good point, therefore, 1/10.get-carter-soundtrack-2000-score
Tonight is a special night, at my mate Handsome Gav's house we're watching the three versions of Get Carter that we know about in reverse chronological order.
First up, Stallone's remake. I've never seen this but I remember Stallone doing a big cover story with Arena magazine ahead of the movie's scheduled cinematic release. In the interview Stallone was asked whether his Carter died at the end as Michael Caine's had in the original. His reply was that "he has a spiritual death and rebirth". Oh dear. The cinematic release was pulled then and this film went straight to DVD. Plenty to be wary of there.
I'm not going to dwell too long on this film, it is as woefully bad as I'd imagined, but I will just comment quickly on the liberties they've taken with the original. The dead brother Frank is renamed Richie for no apparent reason, his wife is brought back to life in the shape of Miranda Richardson (there's someone who really should know better), the gangster Kinnear- now renamed Jeremy Kinnear- is a gay billionaire computer programmer, Carter's Boss Les (formerly Sid) Fletcher gets to know about Carter and his girlfriend fifteen minutes in.
What they appear to have decided in conceiving this remake is that the original would benefit from a washed-out, anaemic, colourless visual style and looking like a car advert. In fully bringing the concept up to date, they roped in hot music producer Jellybean Benitez to add some dance beats to Roy Budd's superb original soundtrack. Jellybean is the man who wrote Madonna's "Holiday"- a song that is about as old as I am. Couldn't they get anyone better than that for fuck's sake?
The iconic moments in the original film are reproduced here in a sadly diluted form- "you're a big man but you're in bad shape" is delivered by a seated Stallone in a calm manner to a standing Caine cameoing in Alf Roberts' part (Stallone had to be seated I suppose, he's giving away about six inches to Caine) and "your eyes look like pissholes in the snow" becomes the frankly nonsensical "you look like cat's piss in the snow". They have attempted, I suppose, to create their own memorable dialogue but it is insipid and uninspired. Several times Stallone threatens to "take it to another level", Alan Cummings' "you know why I like golf?" speech is especially awful and only Stallone's "it's good to be home" after duffing up a local is at all interesting.
What they've done here is to shake up the script (change the order and several of the character names swap places in the script) it's a puny rewrite. By revealing that Carter can never go back from the outset the suspense that made the original is lost, instead we get a watered-down Carter (Caine's was driven by blind hatred, Stallone's is driven by a sense of remorse) who talks throughout about doing something right for once and making up for his mistakes. The dumbed-down script where a bloke from Scrubs appears throughout to talk to Carter and explain like a child's narrator what has happened so far is insulting. I got so angry watching this that it isn't funny.
Positives are very few and far between- Caine really gives his part every chance and that's the only one that I can think of. One good point, therefore, 1/10.
Saturday, 2 August 2008
The Most Dangerous Game (1932)
Filmed concurrently with the much-lauded (and rightly so) King Kong, and sharing cast members, crew, locations and a basic storyline this has become something of a lost film. Indeed, I happened across it in a pound shop and had never heard of it before. But it's great.
Joel McCrea plays a famous bounty hunter shipwrecked on a mystery island. He goes to a mystery castle where his host, the urbane but sinister Count Zoroff (Leslie Banks), introduces him to fellow shipwreck survivors Fay Wray and her boorish drunken brother Robert Armstrong. Helped in no small part by the music of Max Steiner the film switches easily from the opening character establishment to an exciting chase film through overgrown jungle and swamp-land as the hunter becomes the hunted. The performance of Banks as the maniacal Zoroff is a treat and it is also interesting to note the ahead-of-its-time critique on big game hunting with the trophy room stuffed with humans (apparently a better DVD version with a further ten minutes or more in the trophy room is available) and McCrea opining "now I know how the animals felt" refers back to the opening conversations on 'the inconsistency of civilization': animals hunt for food and are considered savage, we hunt for sport and consider ourselves civilized.
All in all this is a great film- albeit on a shoddy DVD transfer- exciting, pacey, insightful and with a great climax (notwithstanding a fight consisting largely of wild slaps to the upper arms). 7/10.
Joel McCrea plays a famous bounty hunter shipwrecked on a mystery island. He goes to a mystery castle where his host, the urbane but sinister Count Zoroff (Leslie Banks), introduces him to fellow shipwreck survivors Fay Wray and her boorish drunken brother Robert Armstrong. Helped in no small part by the music of Max Steiner the film switches easily from the opening character establishment to an exciting chase film through overgrown jungle and swamp-land as the hunter becomes the hunted. The performance of Banks as the maniacal Zoroff is a treat and it is also interesting to note the ahead-of-its-time critique on big game hunting with the trophy room stuffed with humans (apparently a better DVD version with a further ten minutes or more in the trophy room is available) and McCrea opining "now I know how the animals felt" refers back to the opening conversations on 'the inconsistency of civilization': animals hunt for food and are considered savage, we hunt for sport and consider ourselves civilized.
All in all this is a great film- albeit on a shoddy DVD transfer- exciting, pacey, insightful and with a great climax (notwithstanding a fight consisting largely of wild slaps to the upper arms). 7/10.
Tuesday, 29 July 2008
Questions raised by Cherie Blair's autobiography
'Cherie Blair conceived Leo because she was afraid to take her "contraceptive equipment" to Balmoral'.
- Isn't she a Catholic?
- What did she worry that the household staff would think of her, that she was a married woman going to bed with her husband and that they may have sex but that she wasn't planning to have any more children?
- What is the equipment she uses? Is there a Hieronymus Bosch method? Isn't 'equipment' a strange word to use? Especially as no word at all was required, surely 'contraceptives' would have done the job.
- Why didn't they name Leo Balmoral Blair à la Brooklyn Beckham?
Saturday, 26 July 2008
Another Islamophobic viral e-mail received
I don't often receive those e-mails that you hear about, I guess people know that I'll react in a way that doesn't suit them. In fact it has only happened once before, but today I received one. The subject-line read "How can you remove this from school history lessons cos it offends a religion" and the subject matter boiled down to the following sentiment "This week, the UK removed The Holocaust from its school curriculum because it 'offended' the Muslim population which claims it never occurred". A little Googling shows that it is an old propaganda piece, which has been recently resurrected- presumably in the hope that people have forgotten the truth from the first time around.
I obviously responded to everyone in the e-mail trail that I could find to present the facts, but have so far received no response. I also alerted Islamophobia Watch and, should you receive one, I would urge you to do the same.
For the record, the most recent curriculum changes were to move the focus away from UK- centred history towards more international events. "Changes to the secondary history curriculum, announced last week, which will see less focus on figures such as Churchill, Hitler, and Gandhi from next year. Study of both world wars and the Holocaust, the development of political power, the British empire and slavery remain".
The other mail I received, by the way, was some time ago which warned that millions of pounds in taxpayers' money that was allocated to the preparations for the 2012 Olympics was secretly being utilised to build a mosque which would be bigger than St Paul's Cathedral and hold more people than Wembley Stadium. The truth was that a privately-funded and much smaller mosque was being built vaguely near the site of the Olympic village.
Wednesday, 16 July 2008
"we're just damn glad to live in a free country where you can have a gun if you want to"
As bad as things might seem here in the UK sometimes, at least we have the good sense to have avoided this kind of farce:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/7416120.stm
US car dealer in free gun offer
A car dealership in the United States is offering a free handgun with every vehicle sold.
Max Motors in Butler, Missouri, says sales have quadrupled since the start of the offer.
Customers can choose between a gun or a $250 (£125) petrol card, but most so far have chosen the gun.
Owner Mark Muller said: "We're just damn glad to live in a free country where you can have a gun if you want to."
The dealership sells new and old vehicles, including General Motors and Ford cars and trucks, and its logo shows a cowboy holding a pistol.
It has sold more than 30 cars and trucks in the past three days, an increase which the owners put down to their promotional offer.
Inspiration from Obama
Mr Muller said that every buyer so far "except one guy from Canada and one old guy" chose the gun, rather than the gas card.
He recommends a Kel-Tec .380 pistol, which he describes as "a nice little handgun that fits in your pocket".
He added that the promotion was inspired by recent comments from one of the Democratic nominees for the presidential election, saying: "We did it because of Barack Obama.
"He said all those people in the Midwest, you've got to have compassion for them because they're clinging to their guns and their Bibles. I found that quite offensive. We all go to church on Sunday and we all carry guns."
The website advertisement for the offer, which continues until the end of the month, mentions that an approved background check on gun ownership is required.
Write a letter to the Daily Mail
Hey kids, are you stuck for things to do when it rains during the summer holidays? Why not make like a grown up and write to the Daily Mail? It's fun, it gets you attention and it only costs the price of a stamp. Here's how:
Take an article from the Daily Mail, it doesn't really matter which one but articles about Asylum Seekers, Drug Dealers, Terrorists, the Labour Party and Paedophiles usually work best. Most days you can find a front page story that manages to tie all of them together- that's a sure-fire winner.
Now, you must start your letter by making it clear that you refer to that article. After that, there are no rules. It's a free-for-all. What fun! All that you need to do is to copy some or all of the following phrases in any order that you like and then end the letter with a woman's name (the frumpier the better) and add the title 'Mrs' in brackets afterwards. That will convince them that you aren't one of those awful dungaree-wearing feminists that used to appear on news bulletins in the 1980s. Here are your phrases:
- "The country is full up. I'm sorry, but we can't take your riff-raff any longer"
- "One of two of these people should be made an example of"
- "These people should be made to sit up and take notice"
- "What reasonable-minded person actually objects to bringing back the birch?"
- "It never did me any harm, I can tell you"
- "These bleeding-heart liberals really get my dander up"
- "We all know that these Socialists are only out to line their own pockets"
- "I come from an ordinary middle-class family."
- "The good old British taxpayer is the mug who has to foot the bill for this"
- "Decent hard-working British people who have paid tax all their lives"
- "This anarchist's paradise where there are no restrictions on the drinking of alcohol?"
- "I am English and proud. Why is that so offensive to our visitors here?"
- "All sorts of organisations will jump on the bandwagon and cry inequality"
- "This 'Nanny state' where people aren't allowed the freedom to smoke a cigarette"
- "If those of different faiths who have chosen to live in this country can still observe their customs, why can't we?"
- "Winston Churchill would be spinning in his grave"
- "It seems the politically correct brigade have been at it again"
- "What a child needs is discipline"
- "Can someone explain to me why soft drugs are tolerated by this Labour Government"
- "I'm simply disgusted at the way in which our government expects us to pay taxes through the nose"
- "It's no wonder this country is going to the dogs"
- "It's PC gone mad" (if you want to be really creative try something that means the same in fancier words like "this is secularism in a demented form")
- "Who can blame the millions who emigrate every year?"
- "Gordon Brown and his left-wing cronies in the cabinet"
- "What a child needs is to be kept out of danger from these lecherous beasts who are seemingly waiting at every turn"
- "People who have done nothing wrong have nothing to fear from this legislation"
- "I'm simply outraged at the way in which our government fails to provide anything more than the basic services that people need in hospital"
- "I've voted Tory all of my life and this country has never needed a Tory Government as badly as it does now"
- "Is this what generations of English men fought and died for?"
- "These people want nothing more than to be governed by Germany"
- "Isn't this simply another Labour Government attempt to extract more money from our pockets for fewer services?"
- "I have worked hard all of my life and for what?"
- "An Englishman's home used to be his castle. Well not any more"
- "Oh how I wish we could let Margaret Thatcher get hold of these people"
- "Is nothing sacred any longer?"
- "What a child needs is the freedom to learn and make their own mistakes without these namby-pamby rules interfering with the process"
- "These left-wing do-gooders will destroy every custom tradition and belief that English people hold dear"
Thursday, 26 June 2008
People working with children shouldn't need police checks say right-wing 'think tank' Civitas
"It is putting people off working with children, knowing that they have to be checked for previous offences against children. Why can't we be left to use our intuition?"
Off the top of my head I can think of a couple of reasons.
This isn't a civil liberties issue, it isn't "political correctness gone mad", it is a necessary precaution. I've yet to hear a decent argument to the contrary.
Tuesday, 24 June 2008
The top Tories in Britain today
With David Davis gone, this is an opportune time to reacquaint ourselves with the top Tories in Britain today. Here they are in all of their glory:
David Cameron- Conservative Party Leader: educated at Magdalene College, Oxford.
Boris Johnson- Mayor of London: educated at Magdalene College, Oxford.
William Hague- Shadow Foreign Secretary: educated at Magdalene College, Oxford.
George Osborne- Shadow Chancellor: educated at Magdalene College, Oxford.
Dominic Grieve- Shadow Home Secretary: educated at Magdalene College, Oxford.
It's not what you know, it's who you know. Of the 28 members of the Shadow Cabinet 13 went to Oxford (5 at Magdalene) and a further 6 went to Cambridge.
Is this important? I think so. I think it paints a very clear picture that the Old Boy's Network remains firmly in place in the Tory party. They talk about reaching out to the aspirational, they position themselves to appeal to the occupiers of the centre-ground, they patronise the working classes with talk of social mobility. But they remain very much the party of the few and for the few.
They are besting the sitting Government in arguments over the NHS, over child poverty, the abolition of the 10p Tax Rate, fuel prices, heating prices, food prices and other issues that worst-off members of society. It is a triumph for spin, for the power of the Sun and the Mail to affect the opinions of the majority and it is a testament to the betrayal of the Labour Party's core voters that the New Labour project continues to be.
The Labour Party should be the party of the many. If they aren't, who will speak for us? Who will care what happens to the people of Liverpool or Newcastle or Hull or Hackney if not their chosen representatives in the supposedly left-wing party. Let's be frank, it won't be the boys from Magdalene College, Oxford will it?
Sunday, 15 June 2008
When did it become beyond repair?
Probably early for a post-mortem, but even David Davis's grandstanding won't damage the Conservatives sufficiently to rescue the Gordon Brown train-wreck we're seeing unfold. A Labour Party that has simultaneously alienated its natural left-wing support and also the centre-ground voters it needs to secure victory and has responded with a bid to woo right-wing voters with its 42-day detention bill, is beyond hope surely? So, at what point did it become apparent that the Government had lost its way?
The leadership procession that was achieved by ensuring that anyone who dared stand or vote against the overwhelming favourite knew that they were finished should Brown win?
The cancelled election to give Brown a mandate when his nearest advisers suddenly stopped telling him that it was in the bag?
Copying the Conservatives' inheritance tax policy, thus handing them the initiative for the first time and missing the opportunity to appeal to define the terms of the debate along the lines of 'party for the many vs party for the few'?
Allowing the publicity over David Cameron's "unscripted" Conference speech to obscure the fact that he didn't actually say anything?
The handling of the Northern Rock crisis revealed a fear of making the best available decision until all inferior alternatives had been exhausted?
The disastrous abolition of the 10p tax band allowed the Conservatives to undermine the party's core support without even needing to offer an alternative?
The ridiculous Crewe and Nantwich campaign that showed the party to be so out of touch that they suddenly appeared unelectable?
For me, it was the Inheritance Tax fiasco. That was an own-goal so spectacular that I can't think of a precedent. With the global economic downturn and the general weariness that always faces a long-standing encumbent as a backdrop, this was going to be the most difficult election to win since at least 1992 anyway. And yet just two weeks after Ed Balls was privately advising Brown that he was about to win an election that would finish the Conservatives as an electoral force forever, Brown and Darling were contriving to represent themselves as redundant in the face of these bright young things on the bench opposite. If I hadn't seen it wouldn't believe it.
Thursday, 12 June 2008
Absolute conviction or bloody-minded stubbornness?
The way that Gordon Brown and Jacqui Smith have clung to their plan for extended detention (now reduced to 42 days from 90 in a kind of political closing down sale) is perversely admirable. Like those mad inventors who just will not be told that their combined fridge and tumble dryer will not sell, Brown has ploughed ahead in spite of almost limitless opposition from everyone but his most loyal Cabinet acolytes and a few Police Chiefs. They're hardly going to mention that they've never yet needed these powers, are they?
Well, he has blundered through the first hurdle in his bid to move UK law to the top of the draconian measures league table. But in truth it is a pyrrhic victory. So misbegotten is the concept that he has been forced to bully and bribe his Parliamentary colleagues to get it through. Following the £2.7 billion compensation package for the abolition of the 10p Tax Rate, he has been open to charges of bribing the electorate. To add the charge of bribing the DUP with £1.2billion in order to push this legislation forward to its inevitable failure in the second chamber is mind-bogglingly incompetent.
Brown was faced with a choice: back down and say you have listened to advice and are acting upon it, or press ahead at any cost. He chose to win the battle and lose the war. Whatever the qualms about his time as Chancellor (and I happen to prefer splashing out in an attempt to improve the lives of the vast majority to squirrelling away money to boost Corporate giants faced with a profit reduction when the wheel turns) no-one can be in any doubt now that he was far better suited to that than to strategic political leadership.
Doing just enough to avoid losing your job as you limp along toward an inevitable electoral massacre isn't in the interests of the Labour Party Gordon. But it's clear that the interests of the Labour Party or the people that they purport to represent stopped being a concern for you quite some time ago.
Playing politics, but the ends justify the means
I spoke earlier about the hapless political manouevering of Gordon Brown and his advisers. Contratrily I'm quite happy about the rash decision of David Davis today. His motivation is clearly to undermine and destabilise the Government further, but the outcome will hopefully be the end of the misbegotten 42-day detention plan and possibly Brown himself. And he's putting the boot into 'Call Me Dave' at the same time. It's about time he took a hit.
The Lib Dem decision not to oppose the Tory candidate at the resultant Haltemprice and Howden by-election also increases my suspicion that in a hung Parliament (and that's a long-shot at best) they'd go blue. Clegg and Cameron look like peas in a pod to me.
Harping back to a recurrent theme on this blog, Labour have to accept they're losing the next election and start trying to do the right thing rather than the populist thing. They should legislate with the freedom that a relegated team plays football.
Why I know the Apprentice is faked
It suddenly occured to me reading Andrew Collins' excellent blog. The "Roulette" advert wasn't filmed by Lee McQueen and Claire at all, it was made using the outtakes of the advertisement for Beast aftershave that Stallone does in Rocky II.
Grrr!
Monday, 26 May 2008
"There is no appetite in the party for a change of leader"
Unless they've been misquoted, in the last 24 hours John Prescott, Alan Johnson and David Miliband have all used the phrase 'there is no appetite' to rule out a move to oust Gordon Brown from number 10. The day before that the Guardian used it.
Now THAT is being on-message.
Sunday, 25 May 2008
Those possible replacements for Gordon Brown in brief
I was just wondering which of the possible replacements could get the electorate to come back to the Labour Party:
David Miliband- Blairite career politician.
Harriet Harman- Brown acolyte who has been on-message as he lurches from disaster to comical tragedy. Her husband is Jack "Cash for Honours" Dromey the Party Treasurer, a gift to opposition MPs.
Alan Johnson- Teddy Boy union man turned New Labour bum-licker.
Alan Milburn- Blairite who has kept a low profile and gone along with everything since Brown took over.
James Purnell- Oily Blairite who is rumoured to fancy being the next but one leader.
Ed Balls- Brown's cabinet best mate and the architect of the abandoned election plan last Autumn.
Jack Straw- Senior cabinet figure for much of the Blair era.
Charles Clarke- Top Blair ally who would suffer the same charisma gap vs. Cameron that Brown does.
Jon Cruddas- Soft-left backbencher who ran Harman and second-placed Johnson close in the Deputy Leadership contest.
Peter Hain- Well-groomed PLP yes man, an ex-CND member he voted strongly for replacing Trident.
John McDonnell- The 'darling of the left' failed to get 45 Labour MPs to back him to even stand against Brown following Blair's departure.
Sadly, I'm still wondering. The better the candidate, the less likely it is that they'd get the job. The parliamentary Labour Party is incestuous and conservative. Anyone who gets the job of leader will almost certainly be seen by the electorate as offering more of the same. And with good reason.
On the other hand, other rumours suggest that the lightbulb above Brown's head may have just lit up
Also in today's Observer, buried toward the end of another Brown post-mortem comes an optimistic suggestion that would- if true- see him begin to do what many have been crying out for:
"Friends are speculating that the spectre of defeat may just convince Brown to throw caution to the winds. There is talk, already, of creating a legacy.
'He might just think, "I'm not going to win, so for the next two years I will do what I really want" - the things he was frightened of last year - and tell people why he's different from Blair,' says one source. 'The most wounding criticism from Crewe was people saying "we thought he was different from Blair, and he's exactly the same".'
Another fine mess you're getting yourselves into
The worst response to a political crisis is to pay lip-service to it. Doing nothing is far from ideal, but it at least allows the crisis to be played out to its conclusion- which is invariably coincidental with the punishment of the person/party failing to take action. It provides a deserved resolution at least.
Even ahead of the Crewe and Nantwich disaster, and don't let the Fabians convince you that it was anything but a disaster, lefties like myself were speculating on how the party should respond when the nightmare they awaited came true. I said and still say that taking the summer to install a new leader ahead of the conference would be the second best outcome of all- for Brown to get his act together would obviously be ideal. According to the Observer, however, it would appear that there are plans afoot to groom someone to be the leader at some future point. This is one of those 'lip-service' measures that I opened by talking about. If true, it means that either no-one has the nerve to face down Brown yet and they're hoping to ease him out (ill-health forces resignation?) or that Brown is trying to keep his friends close and his enemies closer. It also means that the public desire for change- if that's what it is- goes unsated and that any successor is tainted by association with a dying Brown regime.
It's unattributed hearsay- as the story indicates- but it would be a timid move and a huge mistake. And, on current form, both counts would make it all the more likely to be true.
The worst response to a political crisis is to pay lip-service to it. Doing nothing is far from ideal, but it at least allows the crisis to be played out to its conclusion- which is invariably coincidental with the punishment of the person/party failing to take action. It provides a deserved resolution at least.
Even ahead of the Crewe and Nantwich disaster, and don't let the Fabians convince you that it was anything but a disaster, lefties like myself were speculating on how the party should respond when the nightmare they awaited came true. I said and still say that taking the summer to install a new leader ahead of the conference would be the second best outcome of all- for Brown to get his act together would obviously be ideal. According to the Observer, however, it would appear that there are plans afoot to groom someone to be the leader at some future point. This is one of those 'lip-service' measures that I opened by talking about. If true, it means that either no-one has the nerve to face down Brown yet and they're hoping to ease him out (ill-health forces resignation?) or that Brown is trying to keep his friends close and his enemies closer. It also means that the public desire for change- if that's what it is- goes unsated and that any successor is tainted by association with a dying Brown regime.
It's unattributed hearsay- as the story indicates- but it would be a timid move and a huge mistake. And, on current form, both counts would make it all the more likely to be true.
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