Reviews written by registered user
|16 reviews in total|
This is a pretty intense experience, especially if you know nothing
about the subject matter. A community of Mohawks form a road block to
prevent local land developers from turning their ancestral burial
grounds into a golf course. Incredibly, the Canadian government sends
in tanks and soldiers to break them up. Negotiations fail, and events
escalate to an astonishing degree. I kept assuming that things couldn't
get any worse, and each time they they did. Eventually we have the
Canadian Army beating up an old man and stabbing a teenage girl with a
bayonet. It's incredible to watch, given that Canada has a reputation
as a warm and fuzzy nation.
I guess the only problem with this film is that it's heavily slanted toward the Mohawks and their supporters. We rarely get to hear the alternative opinions from the other side, from the Quebecois who became so angry that they threw rocks at cars, and the soldiers who behaved with such brutality. Why was there so much anger? It would have been useful to know. And the filmmaker never explains who she is and why she is able to film everything on both sides of the supposedly impenetrable siege fence with good quality sound and images. I'm sure there are answers to these questions but the documentary's naive use of an omniscient narrator avoids answering them.
Still, you come out of this shaking with anger and ashamed of the Canadian government. A '10 years on' documentary would be interesting.
I saw 'The Porcelain Pussy' at the Halifax Film Festival and thought it
was great fun. It's a gender-reversed film noir spoof, in which a
hard-boiled female detective tries to locate the eponymous ceramic
feline. All the noir clichés are amusingly inverted, so there's a scene
in which the lady detective meets a glamorous homme fatale who bats his
eyelashes a lot and is filmed in a soft focus glow. The chick whom
plays the detective is very funny and has the hard-boiled style down
perfectly. Also, the cinematographer deserves praise for beautifully
capturing the film noir look.
It's not going to change the world but it's a funny film with some great performances and I hope it gets distribution of some kind.
Even 108 years on, "L'Arrivée d'un train à la Ciotat" still has the power to shock and stun the viewer as the huge train hurtles unstoppably towards you! Every time I watch this movie I instinctively leap out of the way, screaming "train!!" This blistering one-minute film is like a cinematic punch in the face: it is movie-making of the first order, and has never been bettered.
Yes, it's just one joke, and not a very funny one at that, but you have to admit that the Dam Dog, when we finally see him, is cute. He has a happy face and looks overjoyed to have made it in the movies. While I am unlikely to place this squib of a film in my top 10,000, I hope the Dam Dog is resting peacefully in his grave, wherever it is.
For all those bewildered by the length and pace of this film ("like, why
does he show spaceships docking for, like, 15 minutes?"), here's a word you
might want to think about:
Beauty is an under-rated concept. Sure, you'll often see nice photography and so on in films. But when did you last see a film that contains beauty purely for the sake of it? There is a weird belief among cinemagoers that anything which is not plot or character related must be removed. This is depressing hogwash. There is nothing wrong with creating a beautiful sequence that has nothing to do with the film's plot. A director can show 15 minutes of spaceships for no reason than that they are beautiful, and it is neither illegal nor evil to do so.
'2001' requires you to watch in a different way than you normally watch films. It requires you to relax. It requires you to experience strange and beautiful images without feeling guilty that there is no complex plot or detailed characterization. Don't get me wrong, plots and characters are good, but they're not the be-all and end-all of everything. There are different KINDS of film, and to enjoy '2001' you must tune your brain to a different wavelength and succumb to the pleasure of beauty, PURE beauty, unfettered by the banal conventions of everyday films.
"All art is quite useless" - Oscar Wilde.
This is from the early days of the BBC Shakespeare series, when they
young, naive and foolish, and before the budget shrivelled into minus
numbers. To make 'As You Like It' they actually went outside, rather than
a studio, filming the play at Glamis Castle and a forest nearby, just to
give it that epic quality. And they hired some of the best actors in the
theatre, and gave them nearly 30 minutes to rehearse. Halcyon
Filming outdoors requires time and money, neither of which is on display here. The wind whips away the actors' words and blows their hair in their faces. And more intrusive are the animals. In a scene involving Corin, a flock of rare-breed sheep jumps over a gate while he is talking. The sheep are far more interesting than Corin (each one jumps in a slightly different way, and one of them nearly trips over). But the director seems to have the Ed Wood approach to such things ("It's realistic, because that's what would happen in real life"). Meanwhile, the opportunities offered by filming outdoors are wasted. Glamis Castle is perfect for the evil Duke's castle: it's a nasty-looking Gothic pile with pointy towers and a huge, looming bulk. And yet the director films on a gorgeous summer's day and manages to remove the slightest trace of Gothic gloom from the castle. And the forestry commission land looks just that. I'm sure I saw tyre-tracks on one of the country roads.
Even worse than the dodgy film-making is the child-like naivety of the interpretation, which frequently reminds one of amateur dramatics in a church hall. This is encapsulated in the hilarious entry of Hymen, who runs down a hill dressed like a member of Bjorn Again, and with a big cheesy grin on his face. It would be nice to think that this is an affectionate acknowledgement of the absurdity of the play's plot. Maybe I'd think that if it was openly metatheatrical, or deliberately camp. But the characters treat Hymen with awestruck wonder, and the poor viewer is left longing for something EITHER profound OR deliberately humorous.
Sadly, there are no decent films of 'As You Like It', but before you watch this one try to find Christine Edzard's 1992 version, which has its flaws, but has at least has had more than five minutes of thought put into it.
It's quite an achievement to take a five minute play and completely
the point, but that's what David Mamet seems to have done. Beckett's play
about a director and his assistants trying to create a stage image of
despair. They take an actor, the Protagonist, who remains silent
and adjust him and tweak him until his clothing and posture project the
required image of pitiful dejectedness. Then they shine a light on him
admire their handiwork, and the applause of a vast audience echoes
the theatre. But instead of staying in his abject position, the
rebels: he lifts his head and stares the audience in the eye. The
falters and dies. End of play.
It's probably the most optimistic play Beckett wrote and symbolises the indomitability of the human spirit in the face of totalitarianism (it was written for the imprisoned Czech playwright Vaclav Havel).
Anyway, Mamet spoils it by trying to make it naturalistic. First, he films it in a real place, which looks like a tiny theatre in a village hall, with dinky wooden chairs and a parquet floor. This means that Harold Pinter, as the Director, looks like a local amateur dramatics honcho rather than a symbol of totalitarian oppression. Secondly, Mamet ignores Beckett's stage direction about the applause of a vast audience, and instead gives us only the Director's Assistant clapping; this removes the film even further from its satire on totalitarianism. Finally, Mamet obscures John Gielgud's poignant performance as the Protagonist: we don't see him raise his head, and only see his face for a couple of seconds (whereas Beckett asks for a long pause), so the play's most powerful moment is muffled.
All I have to say, Mr Mamet, is, IT'S MEANT TO BE SYMBOLIC!! Hello...?
I didn't like the way Neil Jordan filmed this play. Beckett's idea was
have an apparently disembodied mouth hover a few feet above the stage,
spewing an apparently stream of consciousness monologue.
Jordan casts Julianne Moore, who is a great actress, and gives a good rendition of the monologue. But the film is too excited about the fact that a real movie star is in it: at the beginning, we have to watch Moore sit down in a chair (with cameras pointing at her mouth), just so that we know it's really her. This spoils the concept of an anonymous, disembodied mouth. Another problem is that Moore's mouth is, frankly, too pretty: Beckett wanted the mouth lit by a harsh light, but Moore's is lit to make her lips look luscious - pleasant to look at, but not really Beckett's point.
It's OK. But a filming method closer to Beckett's stage intentions would have made the point better.
*** This review may contain spoilers ***
2010 has its good point and bad points. [possible spoilers
Those of us who know anything about astronomy suffer when watching 99% of all sci-fi movies, in which the laws of physics and the realities of space are regularly distorted. One of the great things about '2010' is that is was inspired by real science - the discovery by the Voyager space probe of volcanoes on Jupiter's moon Io, and of a possible ice-covered ocean on the moon Europa that may contain life. The latter discovery formed an intriguing parallel with the plot of '2001' which was about evolution being kick-started by an alien intelligence, and you can understand why Arthur C. Clarke was tempted to write a sequel that took account of all this. The film beautifully reproduces the landscapes of Io and Europa in an accurate way (although Jupiter looks like a sherry trifle gone mad), and it is great to see a film where the laws of physics bind the characters utterly (except of course, the ultra-evolved Dave Bowman).
The film thus had potential to be a worthy successor to '2001', and it's a tragedy that the film was given to a director with no vision at all. Hyams does a competent job, but shoots the film as a bog-standard space thriller, without a scrap of Kubrick's art or profundity. And whereas Kubrick saw that Arthur C. Clarke's clunky dialogue could only work if the actors were told to perform like robots, the characters in '2010' are played as real human beings, which is no fun if your lines consist entirely of techno-speak, plot-exposition and strained attempts at humour.
Still, there are some very memorable moments, in particular the dizzying spacewalk toward the tumbling Discovery, and the black spot spreading across the face of Jupiter. And the ending is really rather beautiful. It would be good if there were more science fiction films like this - intelligent, philosophical and beautiful. But they need to be made by artists, not competent drones.
This is a TERRIBLE film, one of the worst Shakespeare adaptations ever made in the history of the world. It manages to bore FROM THE FIRST FIVE SECONDS, and to watch the entire three hours is an appalling prospect. Made with no imagination at all, and on a budget of 57 pence, it has only one (boring) set, and an array of famous actor giving boring, boring performances. Even the comic pastoral scenes are slow, clumsy and lumpen. Poor Shakespeare. Poor students forced to watch this film. When you die and go to Hell, this will be the in-flight movie.
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