Nobody Knows Anything

Two posts! It’s like a revolution in your head! Blu-ray viewings marked with a †, cinema visit marked with a *. Another reason Cameron may have waited so long to release Avatar (2009) was he wanted it to come out at a time where there was no competition, and there has been nothing at cinemas for a month, which completely sucks. Of course, distributors may have guessed Avatar was going to reign over all and moved everything else out accordingly. Thanks.

Angels & Demons (2009) †

When I’d finished reading Dan Brown’s original novel over the course of 2 or 3 days, what struck me was how much it resembled a bad novelization of a mindless Hollywood action movie, perhaps something directed by Michael Bay. Apart from its unbearable prose style, it’s drenched in all sorts of ludicrous conveniences and poor narrative plants. Oh, so one of the leading characters is a helicopter pilot, and there’s a helipad at the Vatican - what’s the betting that sooner or later, a helicopter is going to figure into the action? Yes, that kind of poor narrative plant. So when the news came that Ron Howard was going to make this film as a follow up to The Da Vinci Code (2006), I thought, best of luck, mate, you’re going to need it. There is an awful lot of tyre screeching car action across Rome and leafing of ancient manuscripts in high-tech libraries. As a divertissement, it is at least fun and has a lot of doomed Catholic cardinals meeting nasty ends, so it’s not all bad news, and you are at least spared having to endure Dan Brown’s deadly sentence construction.

Frost/Nixon (2008) †

In between removing Dan Brown’s verbals from the two filmic adaptations, Ron Howard knocked out this gem, and this time he has an actual playwright and living history from which to draw. Attention to detail borders on the insane. To film the interview sequences between Frost and Nixon, the production team tracked down the actual house that was used to film the original interviews back in 1977 and restaged them in the same section of the living room. The film also enjoys an odd structure with supposed straight-to-camera interviews being interpolated as if by some documentary crew working alongside Frost’s interview team. This has the odd side effect of humanising John Birt (Frost’s producer on the interviews), a man infamous during his period as Director General of the BBC for instituting a number of policies that were massively unpopular with the staff (check out Birt’s entry on Wikipedia for further gruesome details). Birt was called a Dalek by the late Dennis Potter, a label which has stuck ever since.

Being There (1979) †

They’re all dead. Well, nearly all dead. There’s no one (well, nearly no one) left to provide a commentary track or take part in a retrospective documentary. And, well, does the film need that kind of thing anyway? Released at the end of the 1970’s with Reagan’s election as President imminent, the idea of a moron becoming President through his inane babbling about his garden which everybody takes as profound political insight, seems as relevant as ever today after eight years of Dubya in the White House. If you can tune into the film’s wavelength, it remains deliriously, deliciously funny – from the blank faces of the FBI unable to discover anything about Chance’s background to the hopelessly wrong scene in which Shirley Maclaine pleasures herself under the delusion that she’s been magnificently seduced by Chance’s blankness. At the centre is Peter Sellers in the role he was born to play; he famously pursued both Jerzy Kosinski and Hal Ashby with the assertion that he was Chance, no one else could play the part as well, and that was how it had to be. In the gag reel there’s a brief sequence which rather looks like it was made for whatever was the contemporary equivalent of ShoWest (the US film distributors’ annual bean feast) where Sellers and Ashby clown around and hint that the film was as fun to make as it is to watch, even though the film is not an out and out gag fest but achieves its effects in more subtle ways.

Year of the Dragon (1985)

It took five years after the failure of Heaven’s Gate (1980) at the American box office before anyone would allow Michael Cimino anywhere near a camera again. And he turns out this politically incorrect gem, filmed back when Mickey Rourke was originally engaged by acting. It was heavily criticised at the time for its portrayal of Chinese characters as triad villains and its refusal to shy away from the complex racism of Rourke’s character, Stanley White. Looked at today, I don’t find that this criticism makes a lick of sense. The aging triad guys have a whole subplot all of their own which involves a younger man being given overall control of their criminal enterprise and what they choose to do when things don’t work out. If this sounds like the plot of a film by John Woo or Johnnie To or Takashi Miike, that’s because it is. I guess somebody somewhere took offence at a white guy directing a movie like this. Go figure. Cimino is irresistibly drawn to the epic, and a standout visit to a Thai drug lord sequence with thousands of extras sees him at his happiest. In comparison, confrontation scenes in which Rourke and John Lone tear strips off each other crackle with so much electricity and tension that it can only be resolved by a showdown gunfight on a deserted railway bridge at night as they run screaming and shooting at each other. In other words, proper thriller filmmaking of the kind we so rarely see any more.

Che Part One (2008) †
Che Part Two (2008) †

Soderbergh maintains a cool distance from his leading man throughout the four and a half hours of Che Guevara’s revolutionary adventures in Cuba and Bolivia. The two films are a compare and contrast diptych, an observation that becomes more acute when you see the two films really close together. All of the things that go so well in Cuba (they have the support of the people) are reversed in Bolivia (the people have a natural suspicion of strangers), so that by the time the endless trekking through the jungle in Cuba has been completed, they have an aim and a purpose and a clearly more coordinated chance of success, whereas the endless trekking through the jungle in Bolivia, pretty much isolated from any support and with American-trained military forces ranged with determination against them, means there is only doom and death left to face.

The Princess and the Frog (2009) *

Disney’s widely heralded return to hand-drawn animation is mostly successful, but somewhat let down by an overly formulaic storyline, which is not compensated for by the exoticism of its New Orleans setting, a view of the city that remains steadfastly tourist level. What it does showcase is the ease with which 2D animation can shift seamlessly into another visual style in a way that 3D animation, with its emphasis on surface realism and the creation of an imagined world, hasn’t been able to manage convincingly so far. The jazzy score and songs by Randy Newman are terrific, but hardly suitable for a young audience; presumably, once the DVD/Blu-ray arrives, there’ll be some hideous video from another Disney Channel moppet giving the best song a good kicking. So, all in all, good fun, but nothing new, and the addition of an African-American princess to the Disney club of princesses is not much to shout about either, it feels more like the addition of another segment to a market demographic. So yay for that.

Oh dear, a month has slipped by without posts, mostly down to an appointment at Memorabilia at the NEC where I finally paid full price for some Blu-ray discs from America - so far in the UK I’ve acquired over 60 in various deals and secondhand purchases and not actually bought one as priced in HMV. The last month has only seen a few films viewed, though this has included a cinema visit marked with a * and two Blu-ray screenings marked with a †. But first, satire.

Citizen Ruth (1996)

A first outing for the Sideways (2004) team of Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor in which the opposing camps in the abortion debate grapple with the paint-sniffing pregnant loser Ruth, played by Laura Dern in full dressed down mode, who’s been ordered to terminate her pregnancy by a judge or face a lengthy prison sentence. Both sides seem more determined to stir up trouble and/or secure extensive media time for their respective causes than act out of any concern for Ruth’s predicament. Some bits don’t work, some bits work only too well, and in an enjoyable plot development Elmore Leonard would envy, Ruth has chance meetings with a self-help tape and a bag of cash that might finally let her build a better life…

Team America: World Police (2004)

For the record, this was the uncut version of the film, finally. Five years have not blunted this equal opportunities savaging of both sides of the War on Terror: gungho American Idiots on one side, and peacenik Hollywood actors on the other, but both sides are but pawns in the plastic hands of Kim Jong-il, who, as Trey Parker and Matt Stone mention in the extras, is in real life a cinema nut, so he must have seen this film by now. Nothing will have prepared him, though, for the most sublime moment in recent cinema comedy, when his puppet namesake unleashes his deadly jungle predators…

No Country for Old Men (2007) †

This film won Best Picture at the Oscars, you know. I’d kind of forgotten that. As a measure of how good it is, I’ve already seen this film at the cinema, so I know what happens, and I still found it unbearably tense second time around. Now that is the mark of good filmmaking. I don’t think that this is a return to form after Intolerable Cruelty (2003) and The Ladykillers (2004), because I liked both of them. It’s just more of that good Coen stuff.

3:10 to Yuma (2008) †

I’m pretty good at snap purchases of films I wouldn’t necessarily go out of my way to see at the cinema. For example, this was James Mangold’s follow-up to Walk the Line (2005) which I liked quite a bit, once I got to see it properly after a disastrous cinema screening I walked out of. It pits Batman (Christian Bale) against Maximus (Russell Crowe), not to mention Bettie Page (Gretchen Mol), and is a remake of a 1957 film derived from a short story by Elmore Leonard. And, perhaps more crucially, Lionsgate were doing a cheaper Blu-ray promo with HMV which meant it was only £10. And it was worth every penny. Especially in high definition. It may be in some senses a hoary old oater, but it felt a lot more like an Elmore Leonard character-based thriller than a western, which definitely gave it an edge up.

Coup de Torchon (1981)

A Steadicam film noir from Bertrand Tavernier shot in Senegalese sunlight that alternates between humour and horror often in the same scene. Philippe Noiret is good value as a useless cop who may or may not be stupid, who may or may not be a sociopathic killer, who may or may not intend for what happens to happen, but somehow manages to make the most of it. The more criminal his actions become, the more easily he is able to commit them without any sign of remorse or chance of punishment. Fascinating stuff, and all very French.

Che Part Two (2008) *

In which the reason why there are two films and not one film becomes all too apparent. After the successful venture in Cuba in 1957-58, Che slipped into Bolivia in 1966, hoping to repeat the revolution from the jungle technique that had worked so well before. Unfortunately, as the film makes clear, exploited Bolivian peasants, the Moscow-inflected Communist Party of Bolivia, and the US-trained Bolivian military didn’t take kindly to Cuban interlopers interfering in the running of their country and grass roots support for Che’s efforts dwindled until the inevitable betrayal. The two films mirror each other, one a success, the other a failure, so this means that Part Two is a bit of a downer, since, and I don’t think this counts as much of a spoiler, it doesn’t end well for Che. There is an inordinate amount of aimless marching around in the jungle, ostensibly intended to train the rebels up, but more revelatory of Che’s desire to lead from the front, unlike Cuba where Castro led the way, and Che’s ultimate failure to do so. Part One establishes why Che entered the revolutionary mythology of the Left in the 1970s, and Part Two tells you why this was not a good idea, demythologising Che’s methods and leaving him shot to death in a shack in the middle of nowhere, aptly foreshadowing the plentiful failures, doomed insurrections and pointless deaths of revolutionary movements to come.

101 (1989)

Another reason for the lack of updates has been my pursuit of the 10 suddenly deleted 2006-2007 SACD/DVD remasters of Depeche Mode’s back catalogue, the DVDs of which contain short films running between 30 and 60 minutes, which, in tried and trusted Behind the Music fashion, amount to a lengthy documentary about the highs and lows of the career of one of Britain’s more unlikely success stories. A lengthy documentary in which both former members, Vince Clarke and Alan Wilder, take part, it serves as a reminder that the arc of growth sought by the majority of bands in the wake of the Beatles’ arc of growth can, in the end, only be developed by the few. Oasis, by comparison, hit the ground running and established their sound in 1994, but 14 years later have found themselves unable to move beyond it - there is no growth for Oasis, just a flatline. The Mode have transcended their synthpop origins more than once, been blighted by internal friction, unforgiving technology, drug addiction, alcohol addiction, depression, and massive success that arrived at the right time for the band but at the wrong time for Dave Gahan, who’s died three times but is still alive and now clean. The first big step to the next level is marked by this film, a record of the 1988 concert at the Pasadena Rose Bowl in front of 70,000 fans, captured by DA Pennebaker and his team in full vérité style, the progress to the Rose Bowl marked by earlier concerts and songs from the band and a record company organised bus tour of some fans who follow them on the road (inventing reality TV[!]), that’s if the world’s worst coach driver can find his way around a country he seems oddly unfamiliar with - the guy seems not to own maps either. The flash of transcendence that elevates this film to another level takes place at the end, when a simple, uncontrived, arm waving gesture by Gahan during Never Let Me Down Again sweeps across all 70,000 fans and the lights in the arena come up behind Gahan and reveal that everyone has joined in. This isn’t the mildly fascistic stadium hand clapping that marked Queen’s Radio Gaga at Wembley, this is something else, a spectacle of union between band and audience in the strangest of locations that signals the success to come and also marks Gahan’s own recognition that this is the summit, and the only way forward is downhill all of the way, and fortunately Gahan managed to survive the descent. Just.

Very pure this week. Two cinema visits marked with a * and a movie on Blu-ray marked with a †.

Australia (2008) *

Since David Lean died, it’s become very difficult for filmmakers to do epic and sweeping quite like Lean did in the latter half of his film career. This hasn’t stopped filmmakers reaching for the epic, but Baz Luhrmann has become merely the latest to make the attempt and not succeed in any convincing way. Whereas the intensive self-reflexivity of Moulin Rouge (2001) worked so well in the context of the Red Curtain Trilogy and the baroque pastiche of any number of pop songs and films both present and past, when stapled onto the epic the end result of such intense movie referencing is unsatisfactory. Australia is Baz Luhrmann’s first disappointment. The film’s major problem is that it is so transparently built on the bones of so many other, better movies (Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), Lawrence of Arabia (1962), Red River (1948), The Wizard of Oz (1939), Crocodile Dundee (1986) to name but the ones I spotted) and fails to do anything very much interesting with this source material. For the first time, the utter predictability of the plot damages Luhrmann’s film more than it helps it. And it does go on for at least 40 minutes too long, and somehow has had the post-Pearl Harbor bombing of Darwin glued onto it.

Che Part One (2008) *

In direct contrast, where I didn’t know anything about the bombing of Darwin and didn’t much care when the CGI Zeroes bombed it to bits, I’m pretty much ignorant of the history of Castro’s Cuban revolution as well, but I found Steven Soderbergh’s treatment of the subject absolutely fascinating. And to think I was eagerly looking forward to Australia and viewed the prospect of seeing Che Part One as something of a chore. D’oh! In contrast to Australia’s linear approach, Che Part One has a fairly typical chopped up Soderbergh feel to it, detailing Che’s sojourn in New York in 1964 and contrasting it with his endless, asthmatic hill climbing and commitment to armed rebellion in the hills of Cuba in 1957-58. It’s also filmed fairly flat, with a great number of static setups combined with edgy handheld camera for the majority of the violence. Benicio Del Toro buries himself in the role with his characteristic uber-Method technique, and the film carefully delineates why a Marxist revolution found the support of the people of Cuba at the time, though I think it’s probably fair to say that almost every Cuban has had more than second thoughts about the ultimate wisdom of letting Castro in every year since then. Roll on Part Two is what I say. This film comes thoroughly recommended.

Monty Python’s Life of Brian (1979) †

What Blu-ray can offer is demonstrated by the opening Three Wise Men scene in which every detail of their costuming is visible in clearly delineated detail. What Blu-ray brings to the party is texture. What I found striking about seeing Star Wars (1977) on its re-release in 1997 was that the adobe walls of Ben Kenobi’s habitat had a grain and a texture that years of video viewings of the film at lower resolution had softened out. All the evidence of the used future that George Lucas had spent so much time and effort imposing upon the production design had more or less disappeared from popular consciousness because VHS doesn’t do detail, grain and smears at all well. Life of Brian continues to be funny as hell, an accurate representation of the historical reality of Biblical Judea, and a vital contrast to the po-faced nonsense, lack of context and gore of The Passion of the Christ (2004).

No cinema visits again this week. I’m gonna miss ‘em. It’s not good. At least nobody famous in the film world died this week so I don’t have to pay tribute to them.

The Abyss (1989)

For the record, this was the Special Edition of the film with almost half an hour of mostly character related footage edited back in. I’ve always liked The Abyss, even though 20th Century Fox probably shouldn’t have given James Cameron quite as much freedom to realise a longheld childhood ambition to rip off both E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial (1982) and Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) – but underwater – as they did. However Cameron was the golden boy after the success of Aliens (1986), and Fox execs suffered a similar rush of blood to the head as that experienced by the execs at United Artists who greenlit Heaven’s Gate (1980) in the wake of The Deer Hunter (1978).

Match Point (2005)

Finally got around to seeing whether or not Woody Allen’s return to form was real or not. Answer: yes. And then no British release for Scoop (2006), which he made a year later. One of the things that I remember the film being criticised for was its lack of, for want of a better phrase, working class people. As if Woody Allen was going to relocate to London to make a film about market traders or bus drivers. Instead he sticks to the world he knows best, that of the moneyed elite. And does Woody Allen have interesting things to say about the hypocrisy, laissez faire attitudes and moral corruption of the moneyed elite? Oh yes he does. So it seems rather stupid to criticise the film for what it’s not, doesn’t it? But then I find this is a common form of criticism from people who don’t understand art and how it functions. Shoot ‘em in the brain, that’s what I say, it’s the only way to be sure.

Ghost World (2001)

Intrigued by the Scarlett Johansson-ness of the previous film, I felt in need of more Scarlett, with added Thora Birch. I like Ghost World so much I own both R1 and R2 DVDs, since both have different and intriguing extras. There’s so much that’s great about Daniel Clowes’ original comic book that it would seem a highly unlikely subject for translation to the big screen. Terry Zwigoff didn’t have a problem though. The film is rammed with great, smart dialogue and nicely acerbic characterful performances.

Galaxy Quest (1999)

Perhaps a bit too inside for some, but since I’m reasonably familiar with the history of Star Trek and the world of sci-fi conventions, an awful lot of this film hits close to home. Only if you don’t know anything about this world would the film fall flat. This was also the first film where Missi Pyle drew my attention with the first of her many highly game out there comedic performances. She’s the younger generation’s Jennifer Coolidge and a face to watch out for.

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)

After the spoof, the real thing. There are few moments in cinema better than the revelation about halfway through that for Kirk there are indeed possibilities, and James Horner hits the highpoint of his score in the moments that follow. Although I pride myself on defying received wisdom, I do fall into line on the Star Trek movies: the even numbered ones are the best ones. This should be of some concern to JJ Abrams, who is currently signed to direct Star Trek Eleven. Uh oh.

Solaris (2002)

After the real thing, a real movie. Solaris’ modest box office performance seems particularly puzzling until you see the theatrical trailer, which basically promises Aliens 2, a slam bang, slam dunk summer action movie, and Solaris is anything but that. Because it’s science fiction though, fandom will give the film an afterlife in the after market (if indeed that hasn’t already started to happen). In a world of ersatz blockbusters, this is once again the genuine article, a harsh film about tough issues with a career-best performance from George Clooney.

Two cinema visits this week, marked with a *. There’s a particularly irritating trade ad in the cinemas at the moment promising that 2007 will be THE ULTIMATE SUMMER OF CINEMA. I’ve had a dislike of the use of the word ULTIMATE in marketing hype ever since, I think, Empire film magazine started using it to describe a coming attractions article as THE ULTIMATE GUIDE to some films coming out soon. If you actually look ULTIMATE up in a dictionary, you’ll find that describing the summer of 2007 as THE ULTIMATE SUMMER OF CINEMA means there ain’t gonna be any more summers of cinema because this is the last one and the best one. Which is not true. Describing something that is not ULTIMATE as if it were ULTIMATE is actually something else: BULLSHIT.

The Rapture (1991)

With that said, let us cast our minds back 16 years to a film very few people have ever seen, but which has nonetheless been issued on DVD with a DTS soundtrack. The premise of the film is very simple. What if all that mindless guff about the Rapture that fundamentalist American Christians claim to believe in were actually true? What if they’ve got it right, and their nonsensical beliefs are the one true religion, and they’ll all be saved, transformed into light and transported to heaven? And all the rest of us, the, if you like, infidels, well, we’ll all be consigned to the fiery pit of Hell. And what would you do if you believed all this stuff and there was a voice in your head telling you to commit an atrocity if you wanted to be saved? What would you do? That’s what this film’s about.

Dogma (1999)

Spookily, Kevin Smith takes a slightly similar line 8 years later in this notorious religious comedy. The notion is that the Catholic doctrine of plenary indulgence (you can look it up) provides a loophole that could bring about the end of the world (though I guess you have to believe in this stuff first for it to work) (and even then…). I find it amusing that American Christians responded to The Passion of the Christ (2004), even though the endless spilling of blood would have looked more at home in a low budget horror movie gorefest, and came across as profoundly unrealistic (although I guess that was Mel Gibson’s point about the suffering of His Lord). But those same American Christians (though to be fair the protest was centred around a fairly small, fringe group), took umbrage at a film with a shit monster and lots of dick jokes.

Safe (1995)

Ooh, global warming, that’s pretty scary, right? Well, here’s a film that’s a lot more uncomfortable than Al Gore’s Keynote presentation. There really is something out there called environmental illness, and people really do have their immune systems rebel against them. And the spooky, insidious way that Todd Haynes has directed his film starts to make everything a suspect: the gasoline from passing cars, household cleaning products, and the new black couch. Julianne Moore’s descent into ill health is genuinely disturbing in a way that many horror films aren’t; Wes Craven called this the best horror film of the year.

Prince of Darkness (1987)

As a premise, the first part of John Carpenter’s two picture deal with Alive Films is pretty silly. There’s this low budget, green swirly effect in a big jar that’s going to bring about the day of judgment, and a team of university research assistants have 24 hours to stop it. But, and this is a big but, this film is all about how the silly premise has been executed, and it’s been executed very well. Composing the musical score for his films has always been very important for Carpenter, and here he produces one of his best: dark, intense and atmospheric. The music raises the game for the whole film and makes it work. Without it, it’d would just be another forgotten low budget programmer.

Kingdom of Heaven (2005)

For the record, this was the theatrical version of the film. Despite all the heavy detailing and grungy aspect to it, there is something of the Boys’ Own guide to the Crusades about this film. And Orlando Bloom has not just one but two occasions when he has to deliver a big speech to a huge crowd, and all I could think of was the Sermon on the Mount in Monty Python’s Life of Brian (1979). You know, blessed are the cheesemakers. Still, as a Ridley Scott film, it remains a great watch, and I’m looking forward to the director’s cut.

Glengarry Glen Ross (1992)

Which is why I’m not an entrepreneur or a salesman, since I don’t have a desperate, hollow emptiness at the heart of my soul, and a compulsion to lie to perfect strangers in order to sell them things they don’t want, don’t need, can’t afford, and which may not even exist in the first place. It’s fascinating that David Mamet can make poetry out of a small group of guys all telling each other to go fuck themselves, but that’s what he does, and that’s what this is. A valediction to the American salesman in the tradition of Arthur Miller.

Ocean’s Thirteen (2007) *

Reviewers everywhere have declared this to be a return to form after the supposed debacle of Ocean’s Twelve (2004). Well, I liked Ocean’s Twelve, perhaps because I’m more aware of the kind of European filmmaking styles Soderbergh was experimenting with, and I liked this third installment just fine as well. There is, as William Goldman has noted, something just marvellous about these movies that assemble a team to do an unlikely task against impossible odds with numerous obstacles along the way. Reason and logic fly out the window, and you just sit in your seat and marvel. Three’s probably enough though.

Lucky You (2007) *

Curtis Hanson’s follow up to In Her Shoes (2005) is a slightly bloated father-son story with a romantic comedy lightly glued on top, set against the start of the World Series of Poker phenomenon that drives so many internet search engine pop-up ads these days. It’s a good 20 minutes too long, and telegraphs its plot points in advance, but it does have a lot of cool poker stuff and a decent cameo from Robert Downey Jr (and has everyone noted how better an actor Robert Downey Jr is now he’s off the drugs?).

Mission Impossible (1996)

This along with Die Hard (1988) is my action movie of choice when I want a no-think evening in front of the telly instead of a dark and brooding movie about the Apocalypse. Essentially three long action set pieces strung together into one movie, nevertheless when done with this level of brio and confidence by master craftsman (and my favourite director) Brian De Palma, it’s never dull. Funny, isn’t it, that even though you know a movie like this by heart, it remains a fascinating watch as you try to work out just how he does it.

I don’t watch TV. I’ve almost completely abandoned it as an entertainment medium. Instead, I’m all about the DVD. And the cinema. And surround sound. There will be DTS references, oh yes, there will. The only thing I’m going to do here is basically list every film I watch this calendar year and offer something like a things I’ve learned from watching them, probably in brief. Or other comments, which may or may not relate. I’m also going to do my level best not to edit my comments excessively, so this is pretty much straight from my head to cyberspace. Since I’ve already been too lazy to start this in January, I’m going to start with everything I watched in January.

Since the cinema visits will be rarer than the DVDs, I’ll put a * next to the cinema visits.
The Incredibles (2004)
Because I was in need of cheering up.

Ran (1985)
And having been cheered up, I needed to feel a little more miserable again. This was the Criterion Collection’s release of Ran, which has pretty much rendered all other releases redundant. I first saw Ran 20 years ago in a cinema, in all probability at the Aston Triangle, and remembered two things: it took a fair old time to get going, and that the villainness met with a fairly spectacular end. These things remained true, but what’s even more true is that the film ends by dumping you in a big black hole and saying, well there we all are, what do you think about that? Another thing: Chris Marker’s excellent making of documentary, AK, included on disc 2, underlines something very important: it was all done for real. Kurosawa had a giant castle set built on Mount Fuji, which he then attacked with real extras on real soldiers, and then burnt to the ground in real time, placing his leading man in real danger (since the poor guy has to stagger out of a burning castle down very steep steps covered in vision obscuring makeup all the time pretending that he’s completely insane).

The Doors (1991)
I love this film. I think people who don’t are people who don’t love cinema. A slightly older academic friend of mine once told me that this is what the sixties were really like; even though the film is wildly inaccurate about a whole bunch of things, it gets the tone of the period absolutely spot on.

Hannibal (2001)
Possibly because I’d just read Hannibal Rising. I think people are right: it was a lot better when we didn’t know why Hannibal Lecter had become the way he was. Anthony Hopkins is still too camp for me, but I have a lot of time for Julianne Moore, and she is great in this.

Apocalypto (2006) *
Is it just me or should this have been a widescreen movie? I could’ve sworn the trailer was widescreen. Anyway, this was a big step up from The Passion of the Christ; at least Mel Gibson’s used all those pieces of silver to do something interesting. The reason this film was shot on digital cameras is that in a jungle there’s not enough light at ground level to register an image on film without bringing in an enormous array of lighting equipment, which would negate the reason for filming in the jungle in the first place. The film may have a whole bunch of problems (its purported historical and ethnological accuracy among them) but it worked for me.

Lady and the Tramp (1955)
I needed a break from human sacrifice and brutality and this was perfect. The 2.55:1 frame seems a strange choice for a film that largely takes place in houses and alleyways but it leads to some fantastic compositions. And the animation is gorgeous: people who think that 3D CGI is the future of animation really need to check out the sequence in this film where the owners try and lock Lady in the dining room on her first night in the house. And the raindrops in Bambi; Bambi has lots of great character animation in it, but the animation of nature is breathtaking.

Where the Truth Lies (2005)
I don’t know how convinced I was by this. I think the film needed a more intriguing premise than demonstrating just how cute Alison Lohman is.
Evil Aliens (2005)
This makes an interesting companion piece to The Descent (see below), which also directly references a whole bunch of scenes in other films, but is a far superior work because cast and crew take the central premise seriously, and they’re not afraid to scare. Unfortunately, Jake West takes nothing seriously, and his film and his cast suffer badly as a result. If you as a filmmaker don’t believe in your premise, neither will anyone else. This is just a diversion from real filmmaking. Fun but a shame. Just because you can rip people’s spines out doesn’t mean you should.

The Conformist (1970)
Wow. It’s been an awful long time since I watched this, and it’s only improved with time.

A Prairie Home Companion (2006)
And so this is Robert Altman’s last film. The imaginary death of an imaginary radio show with warm humour, country songs, and Lindsay Lohan. This film was shot digitally.

The Fifth Element (1997)
The best moment in this film: Bruce Willis and Milla Jovovich have boarded a spaceship that will take them to a far off planet to retrieve magical stones they need to save the universe. But first, the spaceship must be refuelled. Cut to a location beneath the ship. Cue reggae music. Cue rastas and working stiffs who look like they’re smoking something. One guy bangs on a hatch, pulls out an empty fuel cell, picks up a full cell glowing bright green (it’s radioactive), and slams it home. They guys head off for lunch. End of scene. If this film had been made in Hollywood, this scene would never have made it past the first script development meeting because it does absolutely nothing to push the story forward, it doesn’t involve any of the leads, and it is in essence pointless. Except that the point is that it’s an integral part of the world of the film and the film would be poorer without it.

Novecento (1976)
I watched this five hour plus film in one day. Not something I would particularly recommend. I am now convinced that a communist revolution from the grass roots of peasant farmers is the only way to stop the ruling oligarchy of fascists and child murderers from destroying all that is great about our country. And that Dominique Sanda is one of the most beautiful women ever to have been photographed. See The Conformist above.
The Descent (2005)
See Evil Aliens above.

Babel (2006) *
I’m not sure how convinced I was by this movie. The connections between the four stories were, it has to be said, awfully slight and really more of a contrivance than such a film so convinced of its own importance really has any business getting involved in. The actors were all terrific though, as was the score. I just don’t know if the movie has anything to say. And it’s all rather put in perspective by Short Cuts (see below).

Contact (1997)
I love this film, and I’m not ashamed to admit it in a public forum. Hey, Contact haters, get with the programme.

Seven Samurai (1954)
The Criterion Collection hit another home run. The extras on this disc occupied me for another month. That Kurosawa, he was really good, you know.
Looney Tunes: Back in Action (2003)
I remember this as fairly uneven when I saw it in the cinema, but it seemed much better in a home environment, particularly when you can pause and go back and check out the sheer weight of injokes and action going on even in the deep background.

Tommy (1975)
I love Ken Russell, and Tommy is Ken at the height of his powers. The surround sound is overwhelming, and it’s quite a surprise to discover that this film is one of the innovators in the technology that led to the 5.1 home cinema systems of today. Critics at the time complained that the film was too loud; they were unaware that this was one of the first films where the sound was just right.
Ocean’s Eleven (2001)
Which has to be followed by:

Ocean’s Twelve (2004)
Roland Barthes wrote a book called Le plaisir du texte, and this is just an example of that.

The Usual Suspects (1995)
Still holds up. Still makes other crime thrillers look ordinary and underplotted by comparison.

The Color of Money (1986)
I think what I like more than the performances (and everyone here is at the top of their game) is Richard Price’s crackling dialogue which never fails to cut to the point of every single scene.

Mean Girls (2004)
I must be insane but this film gets better every time I see it. We pray for you, Lindsay, we pray for you.

Short Cuts (1993)
This film is embarrassingly good. Alejandro González Iñárritu should be locked in a room for a month with Robert Altman’s entire back catalogue, and not let out until he’s repented of his foolish ways and vowed to become a better filmmaker. The Criterion Collection really spoil us with this one: the film newly remixed in 5.1, Luck Trust & Ketchup a terrific 90 minute making of documentary, and all the Raymond Carver short stories and poems that inspired the film in a newly published version of an out of print book.

Gosford Park (2001)
A film that rewards you for paying attention. Dense and packed with backstory and incident, it’s a film that inherently criticises the society and world it’s depicting at the same time as it recreates it in all its forensic detail.

Zwartboek (2006) *
In an interesting development, this film was projected digitally, and looked absolutely fantastic. It retained the clarity, depth and grain of film projection, but will of course never be subject to scratches, flaws or fading.

Soldaat van Oranje (1977)
So I had to check out Paul Verhoeven’s earlier WWII epic again as well.

Starship Troopers (1997)
And I really love Starship Troopers: “Rico, you kill bugs good!”

Dreamgirls (2006) *
Every bit as good as promised. People who don’t like musicals are clinically dead. There’s just no hope for them.

Wild Things (1998)
Sex crimes. Oh yes.

De Vierde Man (1983)
Perhaps not the best film to watch in the afternoon.