Strike

Posted on February 19, 2012 by jaycluitt

Eisenstein’s back! Hurrah, I’d almost missed him. And not only has he found his way back to the List, but this time it’s with his first ever film, 1924’s Strike, a tale of – you guessed it – a strike at a Russian metalworks factory. Tired of long days for little pay and even less respect, and after one of their colleagues kills himself after being fired for a theft he not only didn’t commit, but reported, the workers go on strike. The 1920s image quality and an overuse of shadows makes it hard to tell one character from another in many instances, but there is a creative use of editing – Eisenstein’s trademark, cutting to hard-hitting imagery or between the rich and poor, here showing the wealthy fat cats stuffed in tuxedos swilling brandy and puffing on cigars whilst the workers protest. Also, an early trick of subtitles rearranging and merging into the picture is well received, as are photographs coming to life as though printed in the Daily Prophet.

Alas, some scenes are difficult to follow, though there is much less Russian history on show here than in Sergei’s later pictures, so well done for that old boy, but overall the direction is too heavy handed.

Choose life 4/10

Walkabout

Posted on February 13, 2012 by jaycluitt

I love a good blindside. I can really appreciate when a scene is built up and plays out fairly expectedly, then at the drop of a hat something crazy drops out of the blue and completely changes the direction the film was heading. Safe to say, at some point in Walkabout this happens. I won’t say when or what, but I was pleasantly surprised by the way this film turned out, as two British children, including Jenny Agutter, a long way from the Railway Children, head out into the Australian outback with their father for a picnic. The film contains beautiful images of scenery and wildlife worthy of Attenborough, though Agutter’s skinny dipping scene is a little unnecessary – standing up in shallow water and giving a full turn, floating gracefully along on her back before putting on her tight white blouse, sopping wet against her pale, smooth skin… excuse me a moment.

…sorry about that, got myself a bit distracted there. Anyway, this is a great little film, directed by Nicolas Roeg (Don’t Look Now, Performance), with some thought provoking editing (cutting between a kangaroo being slaughtered and a butcher cutting up chicken), occasionally lewd comedy (all the men at a research base looking up the skirt and down the top of their attractive colleague) and only a rambling nature and slightly unsatisfactory conclusion letting it down.

Choose film 7/10

Jaws

Posted on February 12, 2012 by jaycluitt

Der-dum. Derr-dm. Derrr-dn. Derrrr-dn. Der-dn. Derr-de der-de de-de de-de de-dn-de-de-de-de!

Two notes. The most memorable two notes in history, signalling to the world that a skinny dipper won’t be home for dinner. Composer John Williams, here winning his second of five Oscars – so far – and whom celebrated his 80^th birthday last Wednesday, used these two notes to produce a primitive, devastatingly simple theme tune more recognisable than any other in cinema. Would Jaws have had such an effect without the tune? Probably, but it might not be quite so memorable.

Some credit should be given to the director too. A 26-year old working on only his second feature after the mild success of The Sugarland Express and his direct-to-TV man vs. truck classic Duel, cocky young upstart Steven Spielberg was eager to prove his worth. After purchasing the rights to Peter Benchley’s novel, what followed was one of the most famously arduous shoots ever experienced until Apocalypse Now. The actors hated each other. Boats almost sank or repeatedly drifted unwanted into shot. The pissed off Martha’s Vineyard locals incessantly badgered the crew, it all cost too much and took too long, with reshoots needed to make it just right (some scenes were reshot in the editor’s swimming pool). And of course, the shark didn’t work. The eyes looked weird, the jaws wouldn’t close, the thing wouldn’t float or just didn’t work full stop. Everything had to be geared around that giant mechanical fish. But in a way, all these obstacles came together to add to the whole. The three leads – Roy Scheider’s chief of police Brody, Robert Shaw’s salty sea dog Qunit and Richard Dreyfuss’ techie oceanographer Hooper are supposed to distrust each other, so a mutual dislike between the actors could only heighten that. Continued reshoots allowed shots to be perfected. And a malfunctioning shark meant they couldn’t show the monster, allowing audiences imaginations – always able to outdo any Hollywood special effects – to add in the gnashing teeth, piercing eyes and circling fins where needed. The film set the template for every blockbuster and mainstream monster horror since – only the best creature features save the big reveals to the end.

Whilst there is much to thank Mr. Spielberg for with regard to Jaws’ impact, there are some downsides too. Jaws was released nationwide in over 400 screens – unheard of in its day. Everyone involved assumed it would flop, so they prayed for a fair to middling opening weekend with which to gain back the millions lost in the making. Instead, they found the weekly grosses did nothing but rise, so a complete market saturation became the norm for all summer blockbusters, most notably Star Wars two years later. So nowadays you can blame the tentpole summer pictures – the floods of superheroes and giant robots beating the crap out of each other – at least partially on Jaws.

Not everything good came from the bad or accidental though. The script and staging is impeccable, with one notable scene – the three leads in the galley of Quint’s boat the Orca – passes from tension, to camaraderie, through heavy emotion, back to a sense of fun and then intense action, all without any sense of confusion or feeling rushed. There is some great blindsiding; assuring you something obvious is going to happen, before smacking you in the face with the exact opposite, and even the little moments – the ominous clicking of an unwinding fishing line under Quint’s steely gaze, Hooper’s boyish glee at the menagerie of jawbones hanging in Quint’s shack – all register with great impact.

Choose film 10/10

The Ice Storm

Posted on February 12, 2012 by jaycluitt

Joan Allen’s Elena has been married to Kevin Kline’s Ben for 17 years. Ben is sleeping with Sigourney Weaver’s Jane, who is married to James Sheridan’s Jim. Jim and Jane have two sons, the creepy pyromaniac Sandy (Adam Hann-Byrd) and Elijah Wood’s more normal Mikey, who is sort-of dating Elena and Ben’s genitalia obsessed daughter Wendy (Christina Ricci) who, it transpires, is also the object of Sandy’s affections. Meanwhile, Wendy’s virginal brother Paul (Tobey Maguire) is desperately in love with his college classmate Libbets (Katie Holmes), and vies for her attentions with his much more confident roommate Francis (David Krumholtz). This ridiculously fractured love-dodecahedron forms the plot of this multi-stranded slow-boiler from Ang Lee, director of Brokeback Mountain and Hulk. Both sides of him are shown here, from his delicate handling of love stories to Maguire’s Paul discussing the depths of the Fantastic Four, and he ably handles all the aspects of the plot. There are many similarities with Todd Solondz’ Happiness, most notably the stellar ensemble cast and hard to watch yet easier to recognise situations the characters find themselves in. The film takes place over a relatively short period of time, with all the aforementioned relationships coming to a head during the particularly heavy ice storm of the title, with consequences both small and disastrous, yet a sense of humour is retained throughout, particularly during the swinging party.

Choose film 7/10

A Christmas Story

Posted on February 12, 2012 by jaycluitt

I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts recently. A friend of mine turned me onto the Adam Carolla Show, essentially a man complaining about rich white guy problems on a daily basis, but with great guests and an excellent sense of humour. From this, I’ve branched out to several others, some film related, of which I can recommend Doug Loves Movies, the Film Vault and How Did This Get Made. A regular guest on the Adam Carolla Show is Larry Miller, whose distinctly bald head you may recall from Pretty Woman, 10 Things I Hate About You, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and about a million other films you’ve seen and gone “Hey, it’s that guy. He’s funny” and then promptly forgotten all about. He has his own podcast, This Week with Larry Miller, in which he, in a very good natured, old fashioned and entertaining way, tells tales of his life in LA, diverting constantly on such subjects as Kim Kardashian, hotdogs and anything else he may have thought of that week. Since I’ve started listening, he has mentioned rather frequently a little film called A Christmas Story. If, like myself, you live on the more cultured side of the Atlantic, chances are you’ve never heard of this film, yet across the pond in the States it seems to be something of a festive phenomenon, its viewing a mandatory tradition for all families involving children or anyone who’s been one, so had it not been on the List I’m sure I would still have sought it out, if only to see what all the fuss is about.

It turns out that this is another of those cases where the event in question has been so over-inflated in my mind before taking place that it just couldn’t live up to expectations. Miller’s near constant praise for the film set my sights at the sky, expecting to file it alongside It’s A Wonderful Life, Die Hard and National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation as my Yuletide movie go-to, but alas I remain thoroughly disappointed.

A Christmas Story follows 9 year old Ralphie (Peter Billingsley) on his quest to receive a Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas, but is confounded at every turn by his parents, his teacher and a shopping mall Santa with the repeated warning that he’ll shoot his eye out. There are kid-friendly fantasy scenes where Ralphie saves his family with the aid of the gun – vanquished foes have ‘X’s drawn on their eyelids – and Ralphie and his family deal with the usual child issues – run-ins with bullies, the first swear in front of a parent, the disappointment of a toy arriving in the mail, as well as some genuinely original moments – the frozen tongue on a flagpole – but it’s all just a bit too twee. There’s no sense of drama, no tension. Only children would understand the sense of urgency Ralphie feels at having to have that gun. Anyone older knows he wouldn’t remember it 2 months down the line, so there’s no real problem if he doesn’t get it. The ending is trite, but the narration, by an adult Ralphie, is well used and executed, but there is definitely a reason this hasn’t caught on over here in the UK.

Choose life 6/10

I Walked with a Zombie

Posted on February 12, 2012 by jaycluitt

Have you ever been really disappointed by the title of a film? I’m talking about films like Monster’s Ball, Elephant and Free Willy, films that, when you hear the name without knowing the plot, your mind heads off in completely the wrong direction. I was very disappointed when I found out the Tyrannosaur from the title of Paddy Considine’s recent film was an abusive drunk rather than a giant carnivorous lizard rampaging around a London estate. And so it is with I Walked with a Zombie, less a heart-pulling romance of a woman falling for the reanimated corpse of the man she loved, more a nurse caring for a patient who cannot feel, talk or think, but obeys simple commands and can walk around. Continue reading →

Dirty Dancing

Posted on February 12, 2012 by jaycluitt

We recently booked tickets to see this on stage at the Mayflower theatre in April (not my idea) and I’ve never seen the film. I know, shocking. I’ve seen Crazy, Stupid Love, so I figure I’d seen the important bit already, but enough goddamn Empire readers voted it onto the top 500 films list that I had to see it. Motherfuckers.

It’s the summer of 1963, and Wayne Knight is working as an entertainer at a holiday camp. He makes a deal to steal some dinosaur DNA hidden in a shaving foam can and smuggle it out during a storm, but doesn’t bank on a dilophosaurus with a penchant for fat, sweaty guys. Some kids nearly diea few times, Laura Dern gets terrified by Samuel L. Jackson’s disembodied hand and a T-Rex eats Patrick Swayze whilst he lifts Jennifer Grey up in the air. Well you can’t blame me for dreaming, can you?

Alas, all we have here is a rather tepid story of a girl getting it off with her rather ‘hands-on’ dance instructor at a summer holiday camp, whilst her parents would rather she dated a rich, boring guy instead. Before this film I’d only ever seen Swayze as a sinister paedophile in Donnie Darko, so to me he comes off as creepy and predatory, praying on the naive young dancer as they are forced together, Swayze’s sleeve-phobic Johnny Castle having to teach Grey’s Baby to dance professionally in a matter of days, so the relationship that built up between them may have appeared more Sordid than perhaps it was supposed to.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m no dancer – mainly because that means I don’t have to dance – so any dancing seen on film is lost on me. I can’t tell when people are dancing well, or even in time, so showing long routines or montages of improvement have a similar effect as me listening to someone gradually improving their Cantonese.

Grey is a terrible actress – her miming to Mickey & Sylvia’s Loverboy is excruciating, and the most famous line in the film (some crap about a corner) is tossed away so haphazardly I doubt it would have been missed had it been cut.

Anyone want to buy a theatre ticket?

Choose life 3/10

United 93

Posted on February 12, 2012 by jaycluitt

Paul Greengrass’ (The Bourne Supremacy/Ultimatum) sobering depiction of the events that transpired on the fourth hijacked plane of September 11^th 2001 is a film widely regarded as being a great film, but one you only really want to watch once. This was my third time. The first was just me watching the film. The second was due to Aisha never having seen it, and now I’m doing it for the List. I really don’t think I can take it a fourth time, so here’s hoping. Understandably, there is no humour or trace of lightness to this film. It is not enjoyable, but at times is inspiring, though more often devastating, heartbreaking and infuriating. We see the day as experienced by all involved – terrorists, passengers, flight crew and air traffic control, as for most what starts a normal day becomes one of the most significant events in modern history. The cast is impressively filled with unknowns, and in fact some of the air traffic control staff are played by those present there on that day. This greatly enhances the submersion into the film – anyone could die at any second, and any could rise up and become integral to the events. This is a must watch, not just because of the subject matter, but also the technical qualities – a handheld, up close style keeps us in the centre of the action.

Choose film 8/10

Videodrome

Posted on February 12, 2012 by jaycluitt

James Woods is Max Renn, president of Channel 83, a controversial TV channel with a limited budget and non-existent morals in David Cronenberg’s exploration into the power and motivation of television. Those familiar with only Cronenberg’s later, Viggo Mortensen-starring work (A History of Violence, Eastern Promises and the incoming A Dangerous Method) may be surprised to discover the mind-scarring imagery rife throughout his body-horror classics, most notable in Max Renn’s chest-vagina, as he finds himself morphing into a VCR, or a radio signal that induces brain tumours in the viewer to rid the world of the sadistic scum who watch it – a sort of Taxi Driver meets the Ring approach to cultural cleansing. Woods is riveting in every scene; an underrated and underused actor capable of a great deal more than he’s ever given credit for, and the ideas on show here are nothing short of fascinating. The pornography and violence may be too much for sum – a TV program has no plot, just realistic sex and torture, and a woman requests Max stub cigarettes out on her and pierce her ears during sex – but if you can cope with these then you’ll be fine.

Choose film 7/10

Artery-clogging goodness

Posted on February 12, 2012 by jaycluitt

It’s a non-film related post! Finally! I knew it’d happen one day. And it’s about baking! Who says a guy can’t have two passions? Anyway, last year I founded a cake club at my place of work, and tomorrow is my cake today, so I’ve been busy this weekend whipping up some delectable delights. First up is a favourite of mine, millionaire’s shortbread. I tend to bake a little on the large side (you are what you eat, after all) and here is no exception, with these chunks of joy being a good inch thick. The caramel centre is a bit too much in comparison to the shortbread and chocolate, but damn they taste good.

I always like to make two kinds of cake for cake club, just in case someone doesn’t like the cake I’ve made. Someone brought in some shop-bought Snowballs last week and they went down quite well (not with me, don’t really like marshmallow or coconut, but there’s more in the world than just me), so I thought I’d give them a go. I made some marshmallows for my girlfriend last week as an early Valentine’s gift as we can’t see each other this coming Tuesday (the mallows can be seen on her wonderful blog here) and as I’m nothing if not competetive, I wanted to see if I could make some better than Tesco sells. I used the marshmallow recipe from the amazing Hope & Greenwood book, but poured it into cupcake cases instead of a tray to make the snowball shape (I know, I’m a genius). The chocolate-covering process was a little difficult and had to be done in stages of top, bottom, one side and then the other, with coconut being added before the chocolate hardened, but I think they look pretty good. I’ll let you know how I get on.