The
Faculty
I really
wanted to entitle this review "The Fuck All To See". Its the kind of week
gag that anyone who knows me will tell you I flog ceaselessly to death,
the kind that actually is neither very funny or even very witty. However,
with The Faculty that's not strictly true. What would be somewhat nearer
to the mark would be "The Fuck All To See That You Haven't Seen Before".
And while that is true, its not completely fair.
This is
a late night, pissed up, good time of a movie. As it was it was a late
night (11:30pm in Camden), I was suitably pissed and curried up (The Bengal
Lancer - Kentish Town, nice looks but the food weren't all that) and ready
for a crap teen horror sci-fi flick. That the film fulfilled all my needs
is cause for celebration. That it did nothing else is the only cause for
disappointment. I'm usually pretty tongue in cheek when I refer to films
as car crashes of other movies, but there is no movie where this is so
true than this one. The Faculty brings nothing to the party, knows it -
and for its sins - celebrates it. The last time someone bought nothing
to one of our parties and bragged about it, well lets just say some chaffing
resulted.
The plot
is as follows. Take one high school, with requisite beautiful students
(the credits handily pick out the six which we will be following so we
don't bother to get interested in the rest of the cast). So far so Scream.
Introduce a marauding body snatching alien, basically taking everyone over.
There's your Invasion Of The Body Snatchers for you. Pick the kids off
one by one, until your loan hero fights against body snatching Queen, which
true to form, looks like all alien queen's have since we first saw
the alien queen in alien. Sorry. Aliens. (Actually it looks more like your
bog standard alien from Alien, which you admittedly see more of in Aliens
- hence the plural). Bish Bash Bosh, one witty rejoinder later and everyone
lives happily ever after. Infact even happier than they were before (nerd
is less nerdy, beauty more considerate, weird kid gets a boyfriend and
stops dying her hair and smiles occasionally).
The film
is directed competently by Robert "El Mariachi" Rodriguez, with only a
couple of his trademark explosions. Infact what is so nice about The Faculty
is its deft handling of genres. What is not so nice about it is its knowingness.
It takes the Scream idea of people who have seen horror films in a horror
film, and shoehorns hokey lines of dialogue which seem out of place. The
rest of the dialogue is fine, it just doesn't seem right that the kids
are so au fait with Invasion Of The Body Snatchers (though it has been
remade twice), and more importantly the
ending
of their own movie. "When did you become Sigourney Weaver" is an amusing
line, yet the writer thinks that its own irony is doubled when we reach
the denoument. Yet this is so blatent from the set up that it almost spoils
the end of the film (if we did not know the end of the film already - what
with it being so derivative). The writer is Kevin Williamson, obviously
playing the same tricks he has with the Scream films, and here it just
doesn't work. That said, he does know how to write teenagers, so on that
front nothing is painful.
Of course
a film like this is going to have plot holes. That's why you have to be
pissed. But that said the acting is good from a largely faceless and beautiful
cast (and imagine being beautiful without a face). The only teen we've
seen before is Elijah Wood, who is good as ever if looking a good two years
younger than the rest. The adults are also good within their tiny parts,
and the special effects are as consumate as these things ever get. A good
time was had by all and if I was also asking for a bit of imagination I
was obviously asking a bit too much. But, to be fair, neither me, nor John
and Kate who I went with, were really asking for that.
The Faculty
could be held up as the epitomy of dot-to-dot filmaking, cited as the final
nail in the coffin of imaginative film making, or just celebrated for what
it is. A thoroughly derivative romp, enjoyed best after beer and curry.
To say its actual medium is video would be to denigrate what is a perfectly
okay movie experience. That it does nothing more imaginative that meld
a couple of genres (teen angst/sci-fi horror), and more specifically a
couple of films is not a crime. That its only real fresh idea (the way
you can spot someone infested is by giving them a caffeine based unidentified
diuretic drug) is not really made the most of is perhaps sad. But then
plenty of films
do that,
and are perfectly good fun. But, you know, in the end a movie like this
can only ever be okay. Okay? There was fuck something to see, but nothing
to remember. (6)
IF THIS
FILM WAS A CAR CRASH: Which it is: it would exactly be The Invasion of
The Body Snatchers (say the seventies one - not the really good one, and
I've not seen the Abel Ferrara one) hitting Scream and Alien in a super
three way smash. No-one gets hurt, and its not like any car crash you haven't
seen before.
Fight
Club
I was never
big on fighting at school. I never really liked it. I was not the biggest
of kids, and tended to therefore lose in a fair fight. Having, what they
call in the business, a smart mouth I used to get into quite a few scrapes,
and therefore lose them. I was much more up for an unfair fight, chairs
were my favourite weapon and revenge was often rather sweet. That said,
the fact I disliked fights because I was in lots gives me a special perspective
on David Fincher's new movie, Fight Club. I know fights hurt.
To be fair,
the characters in Fight Club also know they hurt. That is one of the reasons
why they fight. The characters in Fight Club also want to win, to subsume
themselves in meaningless violence - not for hatred but as some form of
confirmation that they are alive. The film also intimates that this is
something to do with masculinity, reclaiming a man's place in a world which
has lied to us. It has some very impressive points to make, and some very
disturbing conclusion. You see, Fight Club is about fascism. And Fight
Club is a comedy.
It is a
very funny film, and does perhaps the reverse of Life Is Beautiful. Here
we are shown the appeal of fascism, how it can grow, build into a potent
force both underground and over night. There is probably no better primer
for "How to build your own fascist army" than Fight Club. It is beguiling
for the very reason that to be seen as a potent threat, fascism must itself
be beguiling. In an emancipated society, the seeds are sown, and the fascism
as invented by Brad Pitt's Tyler Durden is a very nineties fascism - not
born of hatred of any particular group but of received wisdom in general.
This is why we can sympathise with it, we blame the faceless mega-corporations
for our problems too - hence we identify with Operation Mayhem. This is
also why Fight Club has been seen as dangerous, as it invents (if only
to lampoon) a fascist group which could well be attractive to modern viewers.
I have barely
touched on the political complexity of the film, and that is merely a quarter
of the ideas touched on in the film as a whole. There is a whole section
on identity, what we are defined by and how we define ourselves. There
is a whole black romantic comedy buried in the idea of people meeting as
fakers at victim support groups. There is the buddy comedy, and there is
a very good thriller layered on top. This is all mixed in with the kind
of direction that brings this all up into a frothy mix of energy and visual
pyrotechnics. Fight Club's hallucinations are real, we see the imagined
plane crash, the penguin at the centre of his being, we get fast whip pans,
imaginative lighting and angling because that is exactly what this film
is about. Even down to the font used in the titles, everything is new here
and yet everything at the heart of it is the same.
Brad Pitt
and Edward Norton play this exceptionally well, Pitt riffing on his red
herring loon from Twelve Monkeys. Norton, fresh from doing facism as a
movie of the week (American History X) sets about it from another angle
and pins it down a lot better. Pitt and Norton both manage to play wholly
unsympathetic characters and make us care. They both use very different
techniques at this, Norton by wheedling into our affections as narrator,
Pitt by sheer force of chutzpah. Helena Bonham Carter also plays very much
against type, but does whiny goth very well. With these more than solid
performances, and a script with more wit and verve than any released this
year, the only reservation one can have is literally that of its theme.
Is the world ready for a comedy about fascism. We are not talking To Be
Or Not To Be here, these fascists are not necessarily ridiculous. They
are recognisable and even a bit attractive. A po-faced warning would work,
but does a very violent, comedy thriller have the right degree of gravitas
to put forth its message?
I believe,
much like in Life Is Beautiful, comedy can be used to tackle difficult
subjects. I also believe that Fight Club succeeds in both being very funny
and a cursory warning. The real problem people have with it is that it
is so damn entertaining. Should a film with - and I'll say it again because
it is important - so much violence be entertaining. Well, why not? It is
not the violence that is entertaining, it is the violence that makes us
turn our heads - and then look back in feigned horror. Whilst I disagree
with many of Fight Club's theses (that men feel left out in the current
world, etc) it certainly puts forward both a good argument and very clever
hypothetical conclusions. To then top this with a very clever plot, well
that's just the icing on the cake.
Fight Club
does for 1999 what A Clockwork Orange did for the early seventies. But
whilst A Clockwork Orange was set in a dystopian future (what future isn't)
Fight Club is set squarely in the now. It is also funnier. There are hints
of the Kubrick who made Dr Strangelove though in Fincher's work, the mundane
is funny clearly because it is ridiculous. Combined with nigh on perfect
casting, a story which twists and turns as much as The Sixth Sense and
a visual style all of its own it has got to be held up as one of the films
of the nineties - let alone this year. (10)
IF THIS
FILM WERE A CAR CRASH: Brad Pitt from Twelve Monkeys meets Edward Norton
from American History X, and they fight in a modern day Clockwork Orange
meets Dr Strangelove sort of four way car smash. It is a very, very messy
car crash - and quite unlike any you have ever seen before..
La
Fille Sur Le Pont
(The Girl
On The Bridge)
I’ve said
it before and I’ll say it again – I am a romantic. Cynical, yes, but waft
a half decent strain of romance in front of me and I will dissolve to goo
with the best of them. Problem is, we really don’t get that many good romances.
The cliché plot, the happy ending seems a touch out of date in our
hot sex and gun shooting world. Perhaps it is, but its nice to see the
odd film maker resorting to the hoariest of old chestnuts on this outing.
Of course
the best way to sneak a full blown romance on to an audience is to pretend
it is something end. Tragic romance it was but Une Liason Pornographique
snuck in a very traditional romance and pretended it was a film about sex.
La Fille Sur Le Pont had a trailer which was all flashy knife throwing
and carnival music. To be fair we get a lot of that in here. Patrice Leconte
has gone the Coen Brothers route, the indie homespun American writer route
(a la Anne Tyler). It’s a romance with weirdo’s.
So what
do we have. We start by being introduced to Adele who in a fantastic opening
sequence tells us exactly her bad luck with men. Her bad luck is that she
keeps accidentally shagging them, a source of consternation for the girl.
So much so that she goes to fling herself off a bridge. She is saved by
Daniel Auteil’s knife thrower, ostensibly looking for someone for his act.
And hell, if she’s suicidal anyway… What follows is a vague meditation
on luck combined with the oldest romantic trick in the book. Young protégé
slowly falls in love with elder, then panics and leaves to discover she
needs him after all. Can’t really be that good then, when it involves a
plot churned out ten times a month by Mills And Boon.
Well, yes,
the story is bobbins. Though it is a nice flavour of bobbins, and a flavour
we haven’t had for quite some time. Instead it’s the way this story is
couched that gives makes the movie so watchable. Leconte (previously impressive
with Ridicule) has gone for a luminous black and white, full of brightness
and clarity. (The brightness is actually a bit of a problem, it is often
difficult to read the subtitles on the white background). He is in love
with his lead characters faces, and they both deliver nicely measured performances
to match. Vanessa Paradis is fabulously beautiful, yet her characters lack
of self confidence manages to run her ragged. In comparison Auteil is no
great shakes, but manages to bring a Bogart like ruggedness, desperation
and cool to the role. Indeed the whole film is not unlike the Bogart and
Bacall relationship, the fact that it is so unlikely causes the only real
tension in the film.
I usually
dislike magic realism, but Leconte demonstrates how to do it perfectly
here. From the moment the pauir cannot lose we see how the unusual becomes
the usual for these characters. They cannot believe and do not believe
their luck, which is why they lose it. Even at the end, when our leads
are in different countries and lost, there is not suggestion that they
will not reconcile. This is a joyous film, both with its lust for life
and with its sly touches of humour. Yes its hackneyed, but in the best
possible way. And yes, its more than a little convenient where the pair
finally meet. However it feels right, it is the magic of the movies and
here it really is magic.
The Girl
on the Bridge is a low key delight. It is a very old fashioned film, harking
back to Hollywood romances of the thirties and forties. In Auteil and Paradis
there is a lead couple to rival any pairing of that day. It is Leconte
however who walks away with most of the plaudits for creating this confection.
It is the most hopelessly romantic film I have seen in some time, and actually
one of the fiunniest. A nice companion piece to High Fidelity – which is
all about maturity in relationships – we have a film which is all about
the magic. A little gem. (8)
IF THIS
FILM WERE A CAR CRASH: Key Largo hits Une Liason Pornographique with a
happy Coen Brothers ending.
The
Filth And The Fury
The documentary
feature rarely visits our screens these days, and I get the feeling that
if you live outside London you may not get any at all. Of course the rules
of the documentary are very different to fiction, yet in a similar space
of time (which the world and his wife in the movie business seem to be
deciding on 108 minutes) you still have to tell a story. And so The Filth
And The Fury is the story of the Sex Pistols, in their own words as viewed
by long time collaborator and film-maker Julian Temple.
First things
first: is it a good story? Well, yes - perhaps the ending is a bit anti-climatic,
but then this is real life and endings are never quite as cute as in fiction.
From a dramatic point of view it ends with a death, which puts us squarely
in the realm of tragedy. But as the story of the formation, the rise and
fall of a band there is much that is standard stuff in the Sex Pistols
story. You just don't get band stories with the tales of creative differences,
arguments and fallings out. And all the best bands end up dabbling in drugs
and have a destructive girlfriend thrown in for good measure. All that
said, not all bands were the Sex Pistols - and The Filth And The Fury goes
some way to explaining their importance both musically and politically.
In the end though and film is only compelling due to its characters and
the Pistols certainly had a number of them. Johnny Rotten, John Lydon being
primarily the force behind this film.
Temple's
technique here is very simple. Tell the story straight, pretty much from
the mouths of the various Pistol's (which turns out to be mainly Lydon
and Steve Jones). Its all chronological, and whilst certain members will
occasionally muse on things outside the band there is no in depth analysis
of why a band like the Pistol'' took off in the way they did. Of course
there is a villain of the piece, and in that corner we can place Malcolm
McLaren - self styled Svengali, or wanker as Lydon puts it. There are a
lot of McLaren interview excerpts presented to us - but none of them are
that flattering. More importantly the visual style of the film allows a
very obvious statement about the films view on McLaren. While the band
members are - when shown - in semi-darkness being interviewed - for McLaren
we get an over large representation of an inflatable rubber bondage mask.
The symbolism is painfully obvious, according to Temple - McLaren is a
puffed up buffoon. This is amusingly obvious, though many of the other
visual images are equally as obvious and simplistic.
The film
is presented as a mixture of straight on interviews, intercut with concert
footage, degraded stills and clips from highly disparate sources. This
when Lydon describes himself in terms of Shakespeare's Richard III, we
get lots of Olivier. Smatterings of visual comedians: Max Wall, Ken Dodd
and Rod Hull are paraded across the screen. Indeed in one of the few moments
when the film seems to be stepping out of the editorial control of the
Pistols is a piece when Lydon is describing the early gigs and their take
on anarchy. By cutting this with clips of Rod Hull and Emu it would appear
that Temple is not convinced that anarchy of any sort was really on the
cards. It is a sly moment, but one where the official version is toyed
with a touch.
That said,
the film is told from the point of view of the five members of the Pistols.
Glen Matlock goes quiet in the film when chronologically he is kicked out
of the band, and Sid Vicious necessarily only appears in interviews done
with Temple just after the Pistols split up. It is in the last third of
the film, what could be called the disintegration of the Sex Pistols, that
the real emotional core of the film comes to a fore. For all his bombast
and sneer it is very clear that Lydon regrets what happened to Vicious,
and in no small part blames himself. Same with the other members, but it
is Lydon who uncharacteristically breaks down mid interview. In comparison,
McLaren's statements about creating and art form out of flesh and blood
with the band sound more than callous. Whilst Sid comes across as a pretty
unpleasant bloke his death is still a tragedy - and comes directly out
of the existence of the band. Sid was the member of the band who really
believed it all, and unfortunately lived the nihilism that punk always
flirted with. Perhaps it is manipulative of the film to use Sid's death
as the crux of the movie, the point that really allows us to sympathise
with the band, but it is nevertheless powerful.
The Filth
And The Fury is a good rockumentary (if you will allow me to use that horrible
term). What is more interesting though than which of Matlock or Rotten
called the other a cunt first, is the public reaction the Pistols spurred.
While much of this is interspersed with the songs and the interviews, in
paints a very interesting picture of Britain twenty five years ago. In
some ways, it is more interesting than the Pistols themselves - and since
the film rarely steps out of its obsession with the band it does little
more than tell a story. A story that perhaps needs to be told, but only
really as precursor to a more in-depth study of seventies Britain. The
music is good mind. (7)
IF THIS
FILM WERE A CAR CRASH: The Great Rock'n'Roll Swindle meets Slade In Flame
Final
Cut
Ah experimentalism.
The well spring of all new ideas and the last bastion of true crapness.
I suppose there could be a thin line between cutting edge and self indulgent
art wank - but I'd rather think there is rather a thick boundary where
most films with pretensions of being truly groundbreaking usually inhabit.
Such films never really work on their own terms, yet are not truly terrible,
they always have the saving grace of at least being interesting. Final
Cut is interesting.
Here's the
lowdown. Jude Law plays Jude Law, but a dead Jude Law. His wife Sadie Frost,
played by his wife Sadie Frost, shows the film he was making of his friends
to his friends, played pretty much by his friends (including the third
name in this triumvirate - Ray Winstone playing Ray Winstone). What unravels
is a sordid tale which leads up to his death, which illustrates the levels
friendships work on, and suggests that they are not very deep. The film
is pretty much improvised, low budget and written and directed by the two
blokes who brought us Operation Good Guys, the TV fly on the wall police
spoof comedy. And it is interesting.
It is interesting
because it is full of good moments. Jude Law manages to come out of it
the best, merely because most of his bits were filmed first. Since he does
not get to react to the characters in real time, he is the impish manipulator
and narrator. Equally the cast of Operation Good Guys, most of whom are
here, pull off some fantastic bits of comic ingenuity. And there are dramatic
bits (the drug deal gone bad especially) which are reminiscent of Scorcese
in their harshness. But despite the audicity of actors playing characters
both named, and on the surface at least resembling themselves : this is
a conceit which never really works for two reasons. The characters are
not very nice, and the story lacks the realism the style is attempting
to ape.
Let's start
with the characters. Jude is filming his friends secretly for over two
years. This is somewhat deceitful, no matter what he eventually finds out
about them. What he finds out about his drug taking, stealing and liberty
taking friends merely illustrates them in a worse light. We know Jude is
dead, and there is perhaps some suspense in us eventually finding out how
this happens, but whilst the villains of the piece are shown rather crudely
(wife beating Ray and Sadie's money grabbing sister) they aren't that much
different to the cross dressing, ultra violent or coke snorting bed fellows
in the room. Perhaps the intent was to show the evil which lies in all
men's hearts, however there is more evil in this room to really countenance.
Still, films
with bad characters can survive given the right structure. Here structure
is everything, style is everything and therefore it has to work. It does
not. The film within the film suffers from one nagging doubt - if Jude
was dead how did he edit it, and how did he do his knowing voice over.
Perhaps Sadie edits it, this is the suggestion, but then the film is no
longer Jude's which the suggestion is all the way through. Most importantly
is the manner of Jude's death. He is murdered, stabbed, on camera. Yet
no-one is acting in the funeral as if he was murdered, and more importantly,
the murderer is in the room, watching all of this. There is no art, no
performance that could surely pervert the course of justice so much as
to leave a murderer running loose just to confront him at a wake. In the
end, this really lets the films attempt at realism down.
Whilst Final
Cut has an intriguing idea, and style, it is hideously self-indulgent.
In Operation Good Guys the silences, the embarrassment is turned into humour.
It is much harder to do this in a dramatic style, the improvisation paradoxically
does not seem real. The actors have a tendency just to stand up and shout
fuck a lot, admittedly trying to show how upset they are, but it is still
a bunch of actors, playing actors doing stuff we don't really care about.
Which is interesting, but finally, and cuttingly, a little bit rubbish.
(3)
IF THIS
FILM WERE A CAR CRASH: A Mike Leigh Film hits a typically borgouise Belsize
Park dinner party and the results are not nice to behold.
Final
Destination
I can't
hate Final Destination. I can certainly tell you its not much cop, but
I cannot hate it. This yet again highlights the subjectivity of your reviewer.
I know that its appropriation of genre, its actors and its script leave
more than a lot to be desired - let alone the way the whole thing fails
to make sense. All that said, its still going to get a five - your five
being the lowest possible score for a watchable film. You see not only
does Final Destination have a killer premise, and contain some of the most
excruciatingly entertaining scenes I have seen in a movie this year - it
also prompted one of the longest film discussions I have ever had. Perhaps
more will come out of our three hour treatise on horror movies (accompanied
by suitable lagers and Thai food) - but in the meantime, wither Final Destination.
Two paragraphs
on the good, one on the bad then. Really there are only two good things
about Final Destination. One is the premise. Often when a film has a killer
premise and then does not come up with the goods, the result is a burgeoning
disappointment that can easily be fired into hate. The kind of feeling
I got after seeing Men In Black, which had a lot of potential plotwise,
and was just used to hang a pretty inoffensive buddy movie on top. The
premise of Final Destination, distilled into its perfect form, is that
you cannot cheat death. Hence if you escape death fortuitously, forces
beyond your ken will come back and claim you. Sit back, let it sink in
and imagine the kind of horror movie you could make out of it. Shortly
you will hit a snag - with regards to suspense if you know all the characters
must die. Then play about with it a bit more. It took us about an hour
last night, but we came up with two relatively good scenario's with which
to deal with that problem. Final Destination of course fails on this front.
Having presented us with a nicely original horror movie premise - we are
then dragged into teen horror hell.
Teen horror
hell consists of a number of givens. There will be seven characters with
about as much depth as a two second rainstorm puddle. There will be a romance.
There will be a nerd. There will be an aggressive bad guy type (sometimes
the cutest - hey they are all going to die anyway). In and around the casual
slashing of our merry band there is the usual banal teen movie shenanigans.
Fair enough, you gets what you pay for on that front. At least here we
have most amusing butcherings. Since the film wisely decides to not embody
Death we have instead an extended playing of the Casualty game. You know
the one, where old biddies bump around their house and the BBC Cameraman
lets us try and guess which of the fifteen to twenty potential forms of
injury will actually cause our victim to go to Holby City. Final Destination
has few of these scenes, one extended one in particular getting full marks
for multiple accidental stabbings, burnings and slit throats before explosions.
These are without a doubt hilarious - and certainly repay watching on video.
Unfortunately,
this is all Final Destination has going for it. Like an over confident
two ball juggler, it throws its premise and story in the air and drops
both. The two endings are neither consistent with the narrative, nor the
premise. The final ending is so obviously a product of those test screenings
it is laughable. Of course, the rest of the film is laughable from its
very opening line ("So Todd, you're seventeen, and you are off to France
today - you leave in five minutes son") - plot expositional dialogue at
its worst. Also, to its discredit, while the film is trying to work out
what it is doing it is actually a wee bit dull. Worse of all, everybody
should die, and they don't.
The last
paragraph should suggest why this should be a lousy film. I liked the premise
so much that I should be pissed off. But I'm a wee bit older now, and this
is such a good ghost story premise that I am sure it will come around again
- wrested free of its pointless teen movie grave. Also while I was getting
over my disappointment of the poor handling of the idea, they came along
with the imaginative coincidental killings. Final Destination is a pretty
wretched excuse for a film, but it does deliver in a few areas, and gives
you more than enough to talk about afterwards. See it on video, see it
on the cheap - but I think - all things being equal you probably should
see it in the end. (5)
IF THIS
FILM WERE A CAR CRASH: The Omen meets a fine episode of Casualty. Mr Hulot's
Holiday could be sourced as well.
The
Flintstones in Viva Rock Vegas
Not the
Fintstones 2, Flintstones II: Viva Rock Vegas, just plain Viva Rock Vegas
or even Flintstones : Episode I : Viva Rock Vegas : The Pointless Movie.
No, in a pretty unprecedented move unheralded by time, and suggested merely
by the Cannon and Ball movie (Cannon and Ball in The Boys In Blue), for
some reason the idea behind this film is to tell the story of the early
days of the Flintstones. You know, the modern stone age family before they
got modern. And since they got modern in the sixties this is kind of a
early fifties, austerity USA version of everyone’s
favourite
modern stone age family. And to be fair, my anti-pet prejudice made me
tend to prefer the Rubbles anyway.
There are
lots and lots of good things in The Flintstones in Viva Rock Vegas, its
title most certainly not being one of those things. The good things are
- surprisingly - the six central performances. Or to be slightly more accurate,
the six central actors. Pretty much everything else about TFIVRV is wretched,
or at least would be wholly pointless and wretched if there was not a worse
yet hideously similar film out there. The worse film of course was the
original Flintstones live action debacle, which for all polite customers
was enlivened merely by Halle Berry being really
rather
fit and wearing next to nothing. My how times fly, Halle Berry is now the
worst thing in a summer blockbuster and a Flintstones movie, a Flinstones
prequel ferchissake, is good.
No that
was merely a test to see if you are awake. It is of course no good by any
rational standard of movie criticism. Nevertheless a Flintstones movie
would necessarily sit outside of such a schema anyway. The truism about
summer blockbusters obeying a different set of rules to the rest of cinema
is doubly true for a live action film which is based on a cartoon. Trebly
different when the actors are not even impersonating the TV characters
but trying to do some semblance of back story, a ten years before the TV
series kind of idea. Given that the TV series was a cartoon, and was a
twenty minute comedy with laughter track which was tame even in the sixties
- you can see that nothing rational is involved here. So in the scheme
of all that’s said above - ie for a film which stays true to the Flintstone
ideal, and adds somewhat to its mythos - Viva Rock Vegas is a pretty unqualified
success.
Viva Rock
Vegas succeeds because it understands that the original Flinstones actually
was never funny. Because this movie equally never attempts to be truly
amusing we never realise what might have been. What might have been is
a half decent movie starring Mark Addy, Stephen Baldwin, Kristen Johnson,
Jane Krakowski, Joan Collins and Alan Cummins. Oddly all of these actors
occupy their roles in a strangely parallel universe sort of way. Not big
stars, and knowing they are slumming it, they throw a surprising amount
of gusto into the film. Also, by virtue of the films prequel nature, they
do not have to hit their impersonations dead on. In some ways they are
creating this
version
of the characters for the first time. Kristen Johnson in particular has
the largest character arc, and manages to both be wholly unlike the (admittedly
blandest) of the TV characters and yet wholly watchable. Indeed the flimsy
plot, and machinations are watchable merely because the cast make it fun
to watch a no brain, colourful piece of absolute nonsense play itself out.
You can watch it play itself out and hope that the rest of them will be
given a
bit more to do in a further project. In an odd way I almost hope they are
all reunited in something a bit better written, I can oddly imagine a Woody
Allen film with this cast really being rather good. Not because they are
classical actors in any way, but they know how to do comedy, they know
how to do stupid and they know that it is only a job and you make the best
of a bad situation. The bad situation is nearly everything else in this
film, and yet they make the best.
Yet again
I must stress that The Fintstones in Viva Rock Vegas is an abortion of
a film from start to finish and what redeeming qualities it has come almost
wholly from the cast. Sure, the special effects do pretty much what the
special effects did in the first film, and are equally unfunny. Certainly
the plot relies on lots of plays on the word Rock, which are all very,
very amusing. And in the end the whole affair reeks of a crack addled movie
execs party where the genesis of this film was probably the only reason
those involved could escape from the potential overdose death of one of
their number. But I did kind of enjoy watching the cast trying to wring
something out of the film. What they managed to get was wholly absent from
the original: an odd sense of exuberance. It is a rubbish movie, but there
is something trying to get out. But make no mistake, this is a lousy movie.
(2)
IF THIS
FILM WERE A CAR CRASH: The first Flintstones movie and a really good Woody
Allen ensemble comedy - lets say Hannah and Her Sisters. Hey - on another
day Michael Caine would have rocked up in this too.
From
Dusk Til Dawn
You're doing
it again, incha? Looking at me like I'm some sort of loon. What the fuck
is a review of From Dusk Til Dawn doing here? Its three years old, right,
and has probably even been on television. Well, to answer this, I refer
the honourable questioner back to my Citizen Kane review, and a simple
explaination. I've never seen From Dusk Til Dawn. Not when it came out,
not on video (I do not watch an awful lot of videos, not living that near
to a video store and being at the cinema half the time. Last video I saw
was Lone Star - which is an ace film by the way - but this is a movie review
site and I review movies, not videos). It was on as part of the American
Independents season, at the super soaraway Prince Charles. It was also
a late, fulfilling that role perfectly as a pissed up piece of fun.
This is
nothing more than an experimental romp. A film most certainly of two halves,
the first a hard boiled crime road movies, which whilst intriguing is probably
not as good as it feels and could have got dull quite quickly. The second
half of the movie is a horror comedy, a vampire western or, to be wholly
correct, an X-Rated version of those studio family actioners. The vampire
sequence, with its elaborate sets and fantasy feel resembles nothing less
than Steven Spielbergs' Hook. It is gleeful, but remarkably stupid and
silly. Which is fine because that's exactly what it means to be.
From Dusk
Til Dawn was written by Quentin Tarrantino, and it shows. The script, especially
in the first half, sparkles with menace and is very dark indeed. What lets
down the first half is Quentin himself, in a major acting role, playing
the more psychotic of two brothers on the run from the law. He does a good
job at being creapy, but not a good enough job of making himself evil.
George Clooney, playing the nicer of this still pretty scummy pair, has
a lot to do to make himself more of a contrast so he can become our nominal
hero. They all pail in insignificance against Harvey Keitel's troubled
preacher whom they hijack, who really knows how to play a role straight.
Not that any of this matters. As soon as out brothers get to Mexico, its
full on vampire time, and a non- stop battle against the forces of evil
and goo. The make up effects are corny, about everything explodes and mucho
blood is spilled. However this kind of thing is done a lot better in Buffy
The Vampire Slayer (the TV series), with an awful lot more wit too. Julianna
Moore, in possibly her most attractive role, does a relatively good Buffy
herself - and the film can at least pride itself at being better than the
movie of that name. Robert Rodriguez (see also The Faculty) directs the
whole thing whole with aplomb and shed loads of his trademark explosions
and of course his trademark female lead Salma Hayek (briefly but certainly
memorably).
From Dusk
Til Dawn is a great late night movie, and a nice experiment - ie how would
hard bitten criminals deal in a horror movie. It is not, however, as fun
as the conversation the script arose from would have been. Which is eventually
the flaw of the whole film. It is based on such a flimsy premise that it
real does defy examination. That, and the parts of it which are really
unpleasant (the opening scene and the rape) which detract from the fun
and absurd aura the rest of the film projects. Oh, there are nice bits,
and it is original (or as original as any vampire movie can be) but in
the end its candy floss. And blood red , foul mouthed candy floss at that.
(5)
IF THIS
FILM WAS A CAR CRASH: Where else is this more true. Its Pulp Fiction hits
Dracula baby, plenty of casualties.
Show
Me Love
(Fucking
Åmål)
Oh, to be
the man who’s head upon it falls to re-title films. In the last week we
have seen the pointless renaming of Reindeer Games to the bland Deception,
and now here we have a fine Swedish movie retitled to something which could
be an American teen movie name. Of course there would possibly been a few
problems with posters for a film called Fucking Åmål, but perhaps
it might have brought it more attention. It came out a few months ago,
and a friend went to see and gave it a hearty recommendation. So
I went and saw it with a lousy print at the NFT, but even through the scratches
on the film it was clear that this was something special.
As noted
in my Une Liason Pornographique review, I am a hopeless romantic. And Fucking
Åmål is the most traditional romance to be released in a long
time, except perhaps for the romance being a lesbian one. What initially
put me off this film was the fact that it appeared to be yet another gay
coming of age movie. Not that there is anything wrong with that well plumbed
genre, but they are often a touch too self celebratory, championing difference
whilst ignoring the reality and difficulty of many of these scenarios.
Fucking Åmål however is not really in the same genre. Certainly
there is the relationship and romance at the heart of the tale, but it
is much more interested in the minutia of being a teenager and the related
horrors.
Our two
main protagonists are very different - though acted respectively with fantastic
naturalism. Elin (Alexandra Dahlstrom), the popular girl who has a bit
of a reputation and is mind-numbingly bored with the town Åmål.
Agnes (Rebecca Liljeberg) is only friends with the disabled girl in school,
and does not really like her that much. Elin is vain, conceited but surprisingly
good hearted. Agnes is an outsider, as demarked by her Morrissey posters
and bedroom where she lives with loud music booming. Agnes is in love with
Elin, and due to a bet Elin unwittingly plays into her fantasies by kissing
her. What follows is the carbon copy plot of a Mills and Boon, with the
exception being the sex of the protagonists. Elin spends much of the rest
of the film denying her attraction, while Agnes becomes more alienated
and angry. It all culminates in a perfectly frames scene where the pair
finally declare their feelings, and Elin gets to come out of the closet.
Literally: in this case it is a water closet.
So if the
plot is nothing new, what is so affecting about Fucking Åmål?
The writer/director Lukas Moodysson has shot the film on reverse film stock,
giving it a grainy documentary feel. And the inconsequential acts which
the many featured teens carry out ring very true. Åmål is the
same kind of nowhere town that everyone feels they grow up in, and the
illicit alcohol drinking, the copping off and pointless hanging around
as you wait for something, anything to happen. Couple this with the two
lead characters covering the two most interesting demographics and you
will probably have eighty percvent of the audience identifying with them.
Agnes is the unpopular weirdo, sensitive and misunderstood - there is nothing
all that new about this character. However Elin is much more interesting.
Popular, bored and herself a touch at odds with the necessity to be popular.
Deep down a rather decent, nice person who is slowly trying to escape the
confines of what others think she is.
The cast
of Fucking Åmål were mainly non-professional actors, and hence
they act their age better than the usual bunch of Hollywood twenty-five
year old teen actors. Whilst they may not be professional, the lines they
deliver have a finely wrought hand behind them. There are naturalistic
conversations in this film which reach right into the heart of the matter,
and the heart of the matter is why is it sound miserable being a teenager.
Moodysson uses music to the right effect, the over dramatic strings when
Agnes toys with suicide, to the angry indie with she buries herself in.
Whilst this is a story about teenagers, and tedium there is always something
to look at. The best aspect of the film though is the way it treats what
may be on the surface the theme of the film (the lesbian romance) as something
which is not the point. This is a romance, not a lesbian romance: and the
best points it can make are by teating the subject as if it is not worth
commenting about. That does not mean that the film does not touch on homophobic
prejudice, merely that the film is not trying to tell the audience not
to be homophobic. It assumes it, which is a nice way to be treated as an
audience.
Fucking
Åmål is the teen movie of the year, and its just a great pity
that most teens won’t get to see it. Perhaps they don’t want to see the
hell of being a teenager enacted on the screen, but it did bring back more
than a few memories for me (not all bad). Compared to Hollywood teen movies
it is a different world, and with its documentary stylings it is stabbing
at something a bit closer to reality. Last year I quite happily stated
that 10 Things I Hate About You was one of the best films of the year,
and despite the difference in the movies they also have a connection. Agnes
has a Romeo and Juliet poster on her wall, another hint that there is something
more universal going on in the romantic subplot of the movie. Luckily though
this one does not end in tragedy - and has a feel good ending to match
10 Things (an odd ending actually, there is an extraneous scene wholly
about chocolate milk which both undermines the sweeping musical end and
adds an odd sort of permanence to the relationship). Romance of the year
so far, teen movie of the year and movie containing the word Fucking in
its title of the year without a doubt. (10)
IF THIS
FILM WERE A CAR CRASH: Beautiful Thing hits 10 Things I Hate About You
with a Dogme production. Its all good though.
Funny
Face
I lost all
interest in the output of British Children's Comics at the age of seven,
when I received for Christmas a Whizzer and Chips album. Whizzer (a slightly
overweight ghost) and Chips (spiv-like youngster who revelled in wearing
checks) was a particularly wretched example of British humour comics, with
characters based on a single joke that was rarely funny. This put it two
steps behind the Beano and Dandy, which at least had good characters (Peter's
Pocket Grandad not withstanding). However what was so bad about this particular
album of Whizzer & Chips? It was a two panel joke, featuring a young
child and a sad looking clown. First caption "Pull a funny face mister,
go on, pull a funny face". Second panel was of the sad faced clown yanking
at the young child's nose. Even at that young age I realised this joke
was both poorly constructed, badly drawn and frankly wretched.
All this
is in some way a pre-amble to a viewing of the Fred Astaire, Audrey Hepburn
movie Funny Face. A musical of some repute trotted out as a Friday Favourite
at the NFT. It is particularly of note for being the musical in which Audrey
Hepburn actually sings, in contrast to My Fair Lady where she opens her
mouth and someone elses slightly more classically trained notes come out.
And it is also a film which posits perhaps the most ridiculous idea since
movies began - namely that Audrey Hepburn had in any way a "Funny Face".
Of course Hepburn is as beautiful as Astaire is over the hill, and its
pretty much for her this film is watchable.
An interesting
audience packed the NFT3 for this screening. It was very much "men of a
certain age", the kind of blokes who do not have baths or showers - rather
they have a stripped wash. The kind of gentlemen who wear tweed hats to
cover hair which has seen much more brylcreem than shampoo in its time.
There was a feint smell of body odour, and a genuine sense of anticipation.
These were men who have held a candle for Audrey for quite a while, and
liked Funny Face for the obvious reason that the Helenic beauty falls for
the frankly sun-dried raisinesque Fred Astaire. If it can happen in Funny
Face, then it can happen in real-life right?
Wrong -
obviously. Funny Face is, as mentioned, a musical - a form not known for
its resemblence to real life. An odd musical too, taking as its main thesis
an anti-philosophy/beatnik politic - where our intelligent bookshop assistant
is lured into being a model by the more feminine charms of the fashion
industry. It sees itself as a satire set against the chin stroking left
bank thinkers of Paris - a relatively easy target - but as a satire it
fails because it contrasts this with the wholly more ridiculous world of
a fashion magazine. Kay Thompson's magazine editor plays a blinder here,
with plenty of verve and energy, but you cannot help but feel that the
film really wishes all women were as docile as suggested, doing only what
Quality magazine tells it to do.
As a musical
Funny Face is let down quite badly by the fact that it has rubbish songs
in it. There are only two tunes of any note, which bookend the film - Think
Pink and S'Marvellous. George and Ira Gershwin's tracks were aimed at a
different musical (of the same name) so perhaps this is why they do not
quite fit. Audrey Hepburn's voice is not that strong, but it is very attractive,
but it compares quite badly to Fred Astaire's showy crooning. Equally the
dance scenes are oddly constructed - with only Hepburn's beatnik chicken
dance being anything to write home about (and trust me - it is a sublime
piece of ridiculousness). Funny Face is worth watching primarily for its
gags and the energy of the two main female characters.
Funny Face
is not a big musical. It comes from a time when five or ten musicals were
released a year. As such it is quite minor film. It also has some of the
worst soft focus photography you'll ever see in a movie, to suggest love
between Astaire and Hepburn. But if you ignore that, and just watch it
as an Audrey Hepburn showcase, and as set of energeticaly staged numbers,
it really is rather pleasant. (6)
IF THIS
FILM WERE A CAR CRASH: My Fair Lady (well its an arse about tit Pygmalion
Story) with some sort of creapy old man young woman film. So lets say its
Entrapment with gags.
So this
page is still under construction.
