Nirvana (1997)

Posted on August 29, 2011 by badblokebob

2011 #75
Gabriele Salvatores | 89 mins | TV | R

The Radio Times film section may be steadily going down the drain, but when anyone describes something as “one of the best science-fiction films ever made” it’s worth paying attention. “Yet few people outside Italy have seen it,” they add. Indeed, despite screening at Cannes (albeit out of competition), this Italian movie has never been classified by the BBFC, so I presume it’s never been released here (though this was its third showing on the BBC). It’s been released in America though… by Miramax. They did their usual foreign film job, chopping out 17 minutes, changing the music and adding an English dub. This is the version shown by the BBC (at the time of posting, also available on iPlayer) and reviewed here.

Most sci-fi we see is of the American variety — partly due to the fact most of any cinema and the vast majority of imported TV we get is from there, partly due to that being where the money is for special effects and what have you — and that tends to mean tonnes of CGI, a fast pace and action sequences up to the eyeballs. Nirvana is more stereotypically European, however: it’s clearly a Deep and Meaningful film, though unlike many examples of Thoughtful cinema it at least has a slightly thriller-ish plot and a hefty dose of cyberpunk styling for us plebs to pick up on.

Sometime in the future (I read 2005 in one review, but best to ignore that now), Christopher Lambert is a computer game designer working on a new title for Christmas. Somehow a virus invades his system, in the process making his lead character, Solo, fully sentient. Unable to escape the game, Solo wishes to be deleted, but Lambert can’t because the final software is owned by some giant corporation and will be released in just three days… so he has just three days to get into their computer system and delete the file, before Solo is condemned to never-ending life stuck in the game.

The most obvious point of reference for Nirvana is Blade Runner, which I’d wager was a hefty inspiration. Writer/director Salvatores introduces themes of what it means to be human and a lead character one might like to decide isn’t after all, and sets it in a perma-night, dystopian, multi-cultural future. It doesn’t quite have Ridley Scott’s consistency of vision, though: while he just rendered an Asian-American future L.A., Salvatores takes globalisation to the max, running us through locations named after Marrakech and Bombay City, which may or may not be part of the same sprawling metropolis, and which all exhibit appropriately specific cultural stylings. These aren’t just pretty backgrounds, but in some ways reflect the film’s use of video games — in which you can, of course, constantly re-spawn your character — as a metaphor for reincarnation.

In aid of this, while Lambert is collecting the plot pieces needed to attack that corporation — at the same time as following a subplot about a missing girlfriend — we get to witness Solo’s experiences inside the game, frequently dying and re-living the same story with a group of characters who aren’t aware in the way he is. To be blunt, the in-game stuff is a bit odd. It doesn’t really go anywhere, and builds to a lacklustre climax — indeed, the word climax is a bit strong. But perhaps this is part of the point: as the only character in the game capable of independent thought, Solo is stuck in a loop of story and fellow characters who just re-enact what they were programmed to re-enact. Literally, he can’t go anywhere.

This part of the film calls to mind eXistenZ, David Cronenberg’s film about a virtual reality game that blurs the line between reality and the game. It’s rather a surface similarity though — Lambert barely spends any time in his game, interacting with Solo merely though a series of screens on his journeys (and, one presumes, a series of microphones too). Cronenberg’s film was made a couple of years after this, so commending it for not doing the same thing would obviously be a bit rich. It is to be commended for not descending into a needlessly twist-strewn third act though, which I had thought was coming — there’s plenty of bits along the way that could be used to build a ‘surprise’ or two. There’s some ambiguity in the ending, but not too blatantly (unlike later versions of Blade Runner, for instance), and Emmanuelle Seigner’s ex-girlfriend character is never quite used in the way I expected.

For all its intellectualising, Nirvana can still be a fun film, and not just because Lambert’s accent is always set to provoke a giggle. That sounds horribly xenophobic written down, but it’s all Highlander’s fault: there’s no reason he shouldn’t sound European here (and he has dubbed himself), but the memory of that accent supposedly being Scottish does linger. (And, just so we’re clear, I love Highlander.) But no, there are proper dashes of humour, scattered here and there to provide some subtle texture. And there are action sequences too, and dated ’90s music (presumably thanks to Miramax), and even some boobies. To be honest, though, if you just want humour, action, dated music and boobies, there are dozens of films that will serve you better. At least they stop it becoming too dry, and give you a chance to let what’s going on sink in, helping prevent total confusion every time the film threatens to become incomprehensible (maybe it’s just me, but it took a little while to work out what Lambert was actually getting up to in the main plot).

I’d quite like to see the original version. Who knows what changes Miramax have wrought with their fiddling (that woman on the poster certainly isn’t in this version, at least), and I imagine subtitles could be easier to follow than this dubbed version, in which everyone’s covered by either the original actors straining with English (based on the accents) or the typically bad voice actors employed for such dubs. The Italian DVD is reportedly English-friendly and very good quality, so perhaps I’ll get hold of that (expect another review if/when I do… well, eventually).

Apparently Nirvana “has achieved something of a cult status, especially in Europe”, and I think I can see why: there’s a few themes that might be worth a ponder, and enough splashes of style and action to keep one’s attention… most of the time. It might not be as stylistically delineated as either of the films it brought to mind, but then Blade Runner is perhaps the pinnacle of screen SF and eXistenZ… well, now I really want to see that again. I don’t know if this is “one of the best science-fiction films ever made” — especially not in this Americanised version — but it certainly has a few things going for it.

~~Nirvana is available to UK viewers on the BBC iPlayer until 3AM on Saturday 3rd September (i.e. Friday night).~~

25 Films I Own That I Really Should Have Seen

Posted on August 27, 2011 by badblokebob

This was originally published almost exactly a year ago (as the date above will show). Below, I’ve added an update.

Also new, I feel like I’ve been Quite Clever with the featured image above. It would’ve been even cleverer to get all the DVDs/BDs out and line them up and take a photo, but that’s an amount of effort too far.

Anyway. The original post:

As I reach the three-quarter mark of this year’s 100 films, I’ve decided to take a little look at what’s become a sort of recurring theme this year: films I own but have never got round to watching. And, because I have 25 films left to go this year, there’ll be 25 of them (if I was doing all of the eligible titles we’d be here forever).

And these aren’t necessarily the 25 most significant films or anything — I’m sure if everyone was able to peruse my list of owned-but-never-seen films we’d all come out with different shortlists — but they’re 25 that, for one reason or another (often recommendations by other filmjournal-ists*), I should have seen by now.

Note, mind, that this is no guarantee that these will now be my next 25 films. Indeed, I think I can guarantee they won’t be — my viewing is too beholden to the vagaries of TV scheduling and what LOVEFiLM choose to send me, as well as random fluctuations of whim and fancy. But I really should put a great deal more effort into getting round to these ones.

So, in strictly alphabetical order, we have…

1) The 39 Steps and dozens of other Hitchcocks.
2) Batman: Mask of the Phantasm
3) Brazil
4) City of God
5) Comrades
6) Day Watch
7) Die Hard with a Vengeance
8) Fantômas parts 3-5
9) Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse
10) Heroes of the East
11) Lawrence of Arabia
12) A Matter of Life and Death or any other Powell & Pressburger film.
13) Moon, and District 9, and other recent acclaimed SF/F films.
14) Night of the Living Dead and the five other Romero zombie films.
15) Oldboy
16) Once Upon a Time in America
17) Princess Mononoke and several other anime films.
18) Rififi
19) Seven Samurai
20) Solomon Kane
21) The Spider Woman and the seven other Rathbone Holmeses I haven’t yet covered.
22) Touch of Evil, not to mention dozens of other film noirs.
23) Up, and also A Bug’s Life and Cars.
24) Waterloo
25) Zatoichi

OK, yes, you might argue some of those “and also”s are cheating, but it’s my list, so ner.

I was going to write little blurbs for each too, as there are all sorts of reasons for each inclusion… but there’s 25 for chrissake, does anyone care that much? I mean, if you’re curious, I’ll happily fill in any or all gaps, but this post is beginning to feel a bit self indulgent and faintly masochistic as it is. Some of the links offer an explanation or a hint at one; others are just IMDb, sorry.

UPDATE (29/8/2012)

In the past year I’ve seen four of the 42 films specifically mentioned in that list: Batman: Mask of the Phantasm, The Spider Woman, The Scarlet Claw and Cars.

I am a terrible person.

* Highlighting all of these makes me feel terribly rude, actually. And I didn’t even include all of them. It’s nothing personal chaps. ^

My Neighbour Totoro (1988)

Posted on August 19, 2011 by badblokebob

aka Tonari no Totoro

2011 #41
1988 | Hayao Miyazaki | 83 mins | TV | U / G

Once, a few years ago, SFX published an anime special (it was their first, I think) with a rundown of the Best Ever Anime Films. You’d expect it to be topped by something regularly cited and, considering the source magazine, science-fiction/fantasy-y — Akira, probably; or perhaps Ghost in the Shell; or maybe Oscar-winner Spirited Away. But it was actually My Neighbour Totoro that rose victorious on that occasion, an unexpected choice you could tell the magazine felt the need to justify even in the article accompanying the list. But they weren’t wrong — this is a deserving champion.

Totoro tells a charming story, where very little of significance seems to happen, yet is never dull or overly stately. It works to build a lot of character and affection for them, so that by the climax, when something definitely does happen, all the work that’s gone into the characters really pays off. It doesn’t whack you round the head with its impressiveness, in the way those other films I mentioned might, but instead sneaks up on you with the realisation that it’s a beautiful work.

The fantasy element is quite light, perhaps surprisingly considering the titular character is a giant teddy-bear-like creature. There are sequences of pure fancy, but it doesn’t saturate the film; it’s as much a gentle drama about two young girls in a new home waiting for their mother. It’s a little like Pan’s Labyrinth in this respect (or, rather, Pan’s Labyrinth is a little like this). It’s not scary in the slightest (well, maybe in the slightest, for some kids, but note the U and G ratings), but in terms of how it balances real-life dramas with the fantasy element. Only in both the real and fantasy worlds it’s a lot nicer, friendlier and cheerier than del Toro’s acclaimed fantasy-horror. To put it more succinctly, they share a similar structure and balance, but a completely different tone.

The story and characters are supported by the huge talents at Ghibli. It’s exquisitely animated, from the detailed painted backgrounds, to the well-observed character animation, down to little touches like flies around a nighttime light — things that have no need to be there but bring the frame alive. Jô Hisaishi’s music is equally beautiful. The music regularly plays more than its usual role in storytelling too, accompanying otherwise silent (bar sound effects) scenes perfectly. “Accompanying” is the wrong word — it’s not just accompaniment; it’s integral to the mood and the action. Normally such use of music is heavy-handed — “feel sad NOW”, “feel scared NOW” — but Hisaishi’s work is never that crass. It’s not omnipresent either, just appropriate; and it’s always adding something, without it necessarily being obvious what that something is.

The English-friendly version has advantages too: I love any subtitles which use semicolons. It’s not inundated with them, but there was at least one. Semicolons are so underused. I love a good semicolon.

My Neighbour Totoro is a very nice film — and not in a mediocre way. That’s not to say there’s no drama — see the climax — but there’s no enforced peril, no nasty characters. They’re not needed. It’s quite refreshing. Is it the best anime film ever? I’m not qualified to say. But it must be a contender.

My Neighbour Totoro placed 7th on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2011, which can be read in full here.

Source Code (2011)

Posted on August 15, 2011 by badblokebob

2011 #73
Duncan Jones | 93 mins | Blu-ray | 12 / PG-13

The second directorial outing from BAFTA-winning Brit Duncan Jones (after Moon) is another sci-fi mystery, this time set in the present day. A terrorist blows up a commuter train entering Chicago; a new device called the ‘source code’ allows US helicopter pilot Colter Stevens to re-live the final eight minutes of one of the train’s passengers, in the hope of finding out who did it. But this isn’t time travel — he can’t affect the outcome — only hope to find the bomber and bring them to justice.

Naturally there’s more to it than that; you may have even read what in other review’s plot summaries, but I’m trying to keep it vague-ish here. Does Source Code benefit from being spoiler-free? No more than any other mystery-based film… which is to say “yes”, I suppose.

Having not seen Moon (still — bad me) I can’t compare, which is a shame because the heralding of Jones as a key new voice in film and/or SF film suggests that’s one of the best ways to approach his work. He’s clearly a good director, constructing a credible mid-scale thriller here (the same could be said about the work of screenwriter Ben Ripley, or the performances of any and all members of the cast) with a few flashier elements that stand out (in a good way), but I presume his previous effort showed more promise, because Source Code is hardly groundbreaking. It’s certainly a solid, dual-pronged, science-fiction mystery — dual-pronged because not only is Stevens working to find the bomber, but also fighting amnesia to discover what the source code is and how he wound up there — but not an especially deep or complex work. There’s nothing wrong with something being little more than an exciting, engrossing thriller, it’s just not revelatory.

Anyway, it’s in the latter of those two prongs that the film’s heart lies. Running under an hour and a half once you lose the credits, the bomber is uncovered about an hour in, which leaves the last 20 minutes or so to deal with what else Stevens has uncovered. The efficiency of storytelling is to the credit of both Jones and Ripley: rather than emphasise the Groundhog Day element of the plot, for instance by having Stevens making endless trips into the eight minutes and gradually uncover slivers of information, he finds the bomb on his second trip and makes significant headway with each recurring one. All sorts of parts of that could have been stretched out, easily pushing the film to two hours or beyond, but rather than padding we’re left with something that’s quite taut. For a thriller, that’s definitely a good thing.

The other side of the plot is not only where the heart is, but also where the real twists and mysteries lie — I guessed the bomber the first time I saw the character; even if you don’t, it ultimately matters little. Vital to the finale are the subplots like Stevens’ relationship with his father and his growing affection for the passenger his alter ego was travelling with — but who he can’t save, of course, because the source code isn’t time travel.

Spoilers follow in the rest of this review (bar the final paragraph), because I have to discuss the ending — because it’s where the film sadly begins to fall down for me. You see, the logic of the source code holds up most of the way through, and I can understand Stevens’ motivation for wanting to save the people in what is, really, little more than a simulation — he’s accepted he can’t really save them, but he wants to have the satisfaction of feeling he has before he dies. Nice enough. I can even accept the Spielbergian sentiment this ending arguably generates — that freeze-frame track down the train with all the laughing people, for instance. What doesn’t quite make sense is what follows.

The source code definitely isn’t time travel — Stevens saved Christina on an earlier pass, after which Goodwin confirmed she was dead, so he clearly isn’t changing the single timeline — so the next best theory is that he’s created parallel worlds, and it was in one of those he saved the day. Did he create a new parallel world every time he entered the source code, or only the last time? I’m not sure that’s relevant. This is, though: at the end, he seems to remain in Sean’s body. So if he’s in a parallel world, he’s just stolen another man’s life? And Stevens — at least, the Stevens of that reality — is still lying, mutilated, half dead, in some government research facility? Hardly a cheery resolution.

And I wouldn’t mind — it doesn’t have to be cheery — if it weren’t for the fact that none of this is alluded to. It’s just presented as wonderful. Stevens lives! With the girl he’s come to love (in an afternoon)! And Goodwin feels good because she saved the world! But how can we truly feel triumphant, which the film leads us to, if he’s just stolen a man’s life and the alternate him is still, to put it politely, screwed? Maybe this is somehow Jones’ aim — if you don’t think it over too much, you go away with a satisfying thriller that had a happy ending; if you do think about it, you realise this joyous result is going to fall apart around the time the end credits stop rolling. I think presuming the latter may be allowing a little too much though.

Still, problems aside, Source Code remains an exciting, taut, puzzling sci-fi thriller. On a train — there’s a whole long line of movies and connections to be explored there. Many reviews have noted the Hitchcock connection and I’m sure that’s an interesting route to look down, so maybe there is a bit more to Source Code after all… but even if there isn’t, it’s a fun ride.

Source Code is released on DVD and Blu-ray in the UK today.

The King’s Speech (2010)

Posted on August 12, 2011 by badblokebob

2011 #57
Tom Hooper | 113 mins | Blu-ray | 12 / R

Britain seems to be having a grand time of it at the Oscars of late — following Slumdog Millionaire’s triumph two years ago, the last ceremony saw this scoop all the major gongs (and that’s not to mention the other films that have gained isolated noms and wins in the past couple of years). Considering, as someone said recently, there’s no such thing as a “British film industry”, that’s not bad. But award wins mean diddly-squat in the long run — look at the number of classic films and acclaimed directors who’ve never won — so is The King’s Speech actually worth it?

The core of the film, the screenplay, is excellent — dramatic, funny, truthful. It won Best Original Screenplay… but surely it was an adapted screenplay? It’s so grounded in real events, based (at least in part, or so I thought) on the real man’s diaries and the book that was in turn based on them. When the Adapted Screenplay nominations include films loosely inspired by short films and semi-spin-offs from TV series that don’t even feature many of the same characters, never mind actually adapting their source for the big screen, surely something like this is definitely adapted? Who knows… or, frankly, cares — it’s still good, that’s what matters. And if the authors of the book missed out on an on-screen credit, at least they’ve had plenty of tie-in promotion (including a featurette on the Blu-ray).

Hooper’s direction is fine, good even, but it’s no Social Network. Fincher was robbed there. At least he’s in good company. Hooper’s one of those directors (who seem to have emerged recently) who sometimes frame their actors small with a lot of empty wall around and above them. I don’t like this one bit. Stop it. Otherwise, I don’t think he has a distinct style (and that awful type of shot certainly isn’t distinctly his anyway). I’m not saying it needs to be obviously, batteringly A [Director]’s Film to deserve best direction — indeed, one can go so far down that route that it definitely doesn’t deserve the award — but Hooper’s work doesn’t hold a candle to Fincher’s refined style.

The headline win, though, was Colin Firth for Best Actor. I think it’s fair to say there was an element of It’s About Time about him taking it, but unlike, say, Scorsese’s win for The Departed, this wasn’t just a lifetime achievement award dressed up as a real one — Firth equally earnt it with this performance alone. Taking on the part of a stammerer is always a tricky job, and does play into the Academy’s fondness for actors playing at being disabled or impaired, but Firth presents a much more convincing stammerer than you usually see (I have this on good authority from someone who knows several stammerers). It’s not just the Oscar bait element he nails though, as he also brings truth and gravitas to the rest of the role. It’s a complex part — he’s a man who has the throne unexpectedly thrust upon him, at a transitional time for the monarchy, as the nation is launched into one of its most difficult periods.

While Firth garnered all the praise, co-lead (not just Supporting Actor) Geoffrey Rush has been a little more overlooked. It’s a subtle turn but it’s the relationship between the two men that really makes the film. It’s easy to see how such an unshowy part was missed in some quarters during awards season, but Rush is wonderful. Rounding out the leads, Helena Bonham Carter seems to be returning to the heritage roles of her early career, but the more alternative path she’s carved since then lends an edge to the forthright but supportive spouse. It’s interesting to keep in mind the image we have of the Queen Mother from the modern era when looking at her as a younger woman.

But the quality casting doesn’t end there: in support are an array of cameo-sized roles from some exceptional actors, many of them leads in their own right normally. Most notable are Michael Gambon as the old-fashioned, but loving, King George V; Guy Pearce as the youthful, playboy-ish David / King Edward VIII; Timothy Spall doing a decent Churchill impersonation, which sparks one nice moment just before the titular speech; plus Outnumbered’s Ramona Marquez, pretty much stealing every scene she’s in (as usual) as the young Princess Margaret.

I don’t usually comment on my viewing medium — I include it at the top because it can affect all sorts of things, but I don’t feel especially qualified to review the quality of a Blu-ray or cinema or much else — but, occasionally, there’s something worth noticing. The UK BD of The King’s Speech is one of those: instead of running at film-speed 24fps in 1080p, like most movie BDs, this is 1080i/25fps — to put it another way, it has PAL speed-up (how much difference there is between “p” and “i” is debatable). This is naturally disappointing and begs the question “why?”, though when actually viewing the movie the audio doesn’t sound off (but then I’ve never thought it does when watching UK DVDs, so if you’re attuned to that kind of thing maybe it is) and it still represents a definitely HD image.

But I also felt I should mention it before commenting on the film’s visuals, in case it’s affected the visual style. I was going to comment on its slightly unusual look, for instance, which often represents strong pastel colours (when its not succumbing to the ubiquitous teal-and-orange), at the same time presenting a kind of desaturated, often cold feel. It looks odd, and to be honest I’m struggling to place my finger on what exactly is odd about it, but it’s slightly off-normal, slightly stylised, and I quite like it… but considering Momentum seem to have ballsed up the transfer to at least some degree, I’m not sure how much the oddness is a choice of Hooper and DoP Danny Cohen and how much a dodgy transfer/compression. Screen-grabs of the US release (which is at least 1080p, but not wholly praised in other areas, it seems) don’t help much. But as I said, I’m no real expert on Blu-ray quality, so don’t take my word as gospel by any means.

Let’s try not to get too distracted by such oddities, though. Even if directorially and cinematographically The King’s Speech isn’t the triumph a film lover might like their Oscar winners to be, it’s more than made up for by an exceptional screenplay and an array of highest-quality performances. It’s impossible to say how any film will be remembered in the future, but it seems to me this one is a solidly deserving winner.

July 2011

Posted on July 31, 2011 by badblokebob

Another month over, and what have you done…

Wait, isn’t that how I begin Christmas posts?*

Failings

Every year of 100 Films seems to see at least one shockingly weak month for my film viewing. Last year it was April (three films); the year before February (two) and July (none); and so on. This year I’d done pretty well — my monthly totals so far run at 12, 13, 13, 9, 11 and 9 — but I have finally crumbled: July 2011 scores a lowly four.

Hey, at least I held the bad month off much longer than usual!

My reviews have also dropped to a trickle, as you may (or may not) have noticed — they stand at a pathetic total of two for the entire month. This isn’t a personal blog (well, it kinda is, but not in that way) so I won’t go on about it too much, but it’s not been a great year and film viewing & reviewing is just one thing to be struggling.

That said, it’s only recently my viewing’s suffered — I’m only slightly behind this point last year, which leaves me ahead of every other previous year. Maybe it’s silly, and it’s certainly counterproductive, but I find my review backlog gets in the way: having 20+ films stacked up waiting to be written about lessens my enthusiasm to watch new stuff. And it’s not as if there aren’t other distractions — there seems to be a tonne of TV worth watching these days… not that I’ve been getting on with as much of that as I’d like…

Anyway — here’s this month’s measly foursome… none of which I’ve posted reviews of yet. [Except I have now, by 2015, of course.]

#68 The Locket (1946)
#69 Tangled (2010)
#70 Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 (2010)
#71 Super (2010)

Next time on the all-new 100 Films in a Year monthly update…

It’s August! Summer! Hot, sunny weather! The perfect time for staying inside trying to stay cool!

That’s what I always aim to do, anyway. And what better way to fill that time than watch movies?

Or TV.

Or read books.

But I’ll try for those movies.

* No, it’s (sort of) how I begin new year posts, apparently. ^

Catfish (2010)

Posted on July 25, 2011 by badblokebob

2011 #49
Henry Joost & Ariel Schulman | 84 mins | TV | 12 / PG-13

Catfish is a documentary (probably — we’ll come to that) in which 20-something Nev falls in love with a girl somewhere else in America over the internet. He and his friends become suspicious that she’s not who she claims and set off to find out The Truth.

Some have said that Catfish reflects our current relationship with social networking technology more than the highly-acclaimed-for-reflecting-our-current-relationship-with-social-networking-technology The Social Network did. They’re right. That’s no criticism of Fincher and Sorkin’s work, though, because I’ve never really held with the notion that their film was a generation-defining tale — it’s about the birth of the largest social networking tool yet seen, but it’s only about that in part; it’s more about relationships between people in business. Catfish, however, is about how said tool (and others) are and can be used, and what effects this can have on human relations.

It’s hard to meaningfully discuss Catfish without looking at what happens towards the end of it, which is obviously spoiler territory, a no-no for any half-decent review aimed at viewers who’ve not viewed the viewing in question. The film’s ‘big reveals’, which everyone talks about coming at the end, actually begin to stack up from about halfway through; there’s no last-minute twist here — the answers are a huge part of the whole film. And so they should be, I think; but it also means if you don’t want to reveal them you have to not discuss a good chunk of the film — the most important chunk, to my mind, because it is after the reveals that Catfish finds its greatest weight and importance.

Before I get spoilersome, then, let me say this: you will probably guess where it’s going. Even if you’ve not had it in some way revealed (however little of it) before you watch, early scenes will lead to the obvious conclusion: why am I being shown this if it doesn’t go somewhere? And what’s the obvious place it’s going to go? I think most viewers must guess. But I think many — probably even most — will not guess precisely where it ends up; the exact nature of the truth it finds. So this is not as much of a Thriller as it’s been sold in some quarters. It has suspense, certainly, and it has mysteries that have answers… but there’s not some dark secret at the heart of it all; instead, there’s a painful emotional situation. Already I’m saying too much.

And now I shall go on to discuss things that might get spoilery, including the much-debated topic of whether the film is real or a hoax. If you’ve not seen it, I encourage you to skip to my final two paragraphs.

All documentary is constructed in some way — it is, at best, an edited account of real filmed events. As a society/culture we’ve been taught to assume it’s edited in such a way as to present a true-to-life-(but-abbreviated) account of what Really Happened, but that’s not necessarily the case. When you throw in an authorial voice — an onscreen presence or a voice over — it becomes if anything less truthful, especially if the filmmaker has a particular message they want to convey. Sadly, despite the masses of “don’t trust what you read”/”don’t trust what you see” comments that come from more responsible sources and/or satire, I still think most people fundamentally believe what they see in a documentary (or they read in a newspaper) to be the truth.

So whatever the reality behind it, Catfish is unquestionably a construct — it has been edited (like all documentaries), so it automatically is; it can’t be anything else. The filmmakers have chosen what they want us to see, whether that be real or staged. The questions of veracity, then, are: did these events really happen, and/or did they happen as the film depicts them?

Some have noted the makers got lucky to be filming when all the major points of the story happened. Rubbish. Poppycock. Stronger words with swearing in them. If they were making a documentary, surely they’d be filming a lot? Especially whenever they knew Nev would be having a phone call with Angela/Megan/etc. There’s nothing in the film to suggest they didn’t shoot dozens or hundreds of hours of footage of Nev reading out Facebook messages and text messages, or dozens of phone calls, then trimmed them right back to the most interesting or relevant (in their eyes, naturally). If they were committed to making a documentary, the likelihood is they would have shot almost all the time, recorded him reading out every message (or as much as they could), then selected the most relevant or revealing bits in the edit. That’s how documentary filmmaking works. And when it gets to the point, surprisingly early on, where they suspect something’s amiss, of course they’re filming all the time: they’re on an investigation and they’re filming that investigation! The allegation that it can’t be real because they happened to film everything that happened is nonsense.

That said, there is a theory that some of the earlier scenes were shot later; that they realised they were on to something around the time it started to go awry, then went back and staged earlier events for the sake of storytelling. That explanation I can buy.

In some respects, I find the reaction of viewers more interesting than whether the film is wholly truthful or not. Some people seem to hate and despise Angela for what she did. Really? How heartless a human being are you? What she did was wrong, to a degree (it’s hardly robbery, or murder, or worse, is it?), but she is clearly a woman stuck in a life she’s not happy with and looking for a means of escape; but she’s a fundamentally good person, who won’t abandon the people she cares for and cares about. How people can reach the end of Catfish and still be condemning her I don’t know. She earns our sympathy. If anything, the filmmakers look bad — at times, it looks very much as if they’re about to exploit her or use the film to attack her. They don’t, because they see the truth and they sympathise too. If anything, they use it to try to help her.

If you have any interest in the internet and the way so many people now live their lives through it, with all the social networking it offers, and how that impacts back on their ‘real’ lives, then Catfish demands to be seen. I don’t want to suggest you’ll definitely like or even appreciate it, but I do think you need to see it for yourself. As much as I loved The Social Network (it’s still on track as the best film I’ve seen in 2011), Catfish probably has more to say about the actual impact of Facebook on our lives than Fincher/Sorkin’s biopic does.

And for those wondering about the unusual title, it’s eventually explained in the film itself. The anecdote that inspired it is interesting, memorable, and quite possibly fictional — how appropriate.

~~Catfish is on More4 tomorrow, Tuesday 26th July, at 10pm, and again at 1am.~~

Easy Virtue (2008)

Posted on July 11, 2011 by badblokebob

2011 #19
Stephan Elliott | 93 mins | TV (HD) | PG / PG-13

There doesn’t seem to be much love in the world for Easy Virtue, a witty adaptation of Noel Coward’s play (previously filmed in the ’20s by Alfred Hitchcock). A quick peek at some of my regular go-tos for such opinion-canvassing reveals a lamentable 6.6 on IMDb and an even worse 52% rating at Rotten Tomatoes. I don’t understand.

The plot concerns a young aristocratic Brit bringing his new American girlfriend — shockingly, a divorcee racing driver — back to his family’s stately home. The family are old money — the proper kind, where all the money’s gone. Cultural clashes and all sorts of other hijinks follow. Hilarity, with pleasant inevitability, ensues.

Obviously Easy Virtue is, primarily, a comedy. Fortunately, it’s frequently hilariously funny. You’d expect nothing less from a work taken from Coward, I suppose, and it doesn’t disappoint… well, didn’t disappoint me — as we’ve seen, others are a different matter. But hush, we’ll try to ignore them for the moment. There’s a decidedly wicked streak to the humour at times (a subplot about the fate of the family Chihuahua; lots of double entendres), which is welcome. The overall tone is light, largely, but not light in the head.

Director Stephan Elliott adds something extra to the wit with his choice of a wonderfully inventive soundtrack. (No disservice to those directly in charge of the music, but I’m certain I read somewhere — possibly in the soundtrack CD’s liner notes — that the following was Elliott’s idea.) Standards from the era are present and correct, but Cole Porter-styled reinterpretations of modern songs like Car Wash and Sex Bomb raise a smile whenever they turn up unexpectedly. It’s fabulously cheeky.

My notes also add that it is “beautifully shot [and] magnificently directed”, but unfortunately I come up short for examples after so long.

It’s not all giggles, though: there’s some surprisingly deep drama and emotions tucked in here, like the truth about Jessica Biel’s character’s past, central to the climax of the film. Naturally it falls largely on the cast to make this work, and they certainly do. The performances are frequently exceptional, especially Colin Firth, who negotiates the humour and drama with ease — his recollections of World War One being one of the darker points, for instance. I’m not entirely sure why but I have a distinct dislike of Kristin Scott Thomas, but here she’s very good as the nasty, coldly cruel mother.

I also particularly want to highlight Phillip, the awkward brother of the neighbours, and as such a minor character, played by Christian Brassington. This is the kind of character who turns up in plenty of comedies; a role that usually stops at “bumbling fool who likes the lead female but has no chance in a sweet, humours kind of way” (succinct, I know). Here, however, the character is redeemed at the end, when he tells a nasty character how cruel she’s been and aids in the ‘rescue’ of said lead female when she’s embarrassingly stranded. It’s still not a big part, nor a showy one, but those little closing tweaks left him standing out for me.

Describing Easy Virtue in a single word is easy: “underrated”. A shame that’s the word to reach for, but equally I’m not sure what other could appropriately encapsulate it. Witty, cheeky and irreverent, with surprisingly dramatic undertones — perhaps “jolly good fun” would suffice. Apart from that being three words.

Easy Virtue placed 8th on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2011, which can be read in full here.

June 2011

Posted on June 30, 2011 by badblokebob

What’s that? We’re halfway through the year, you say?

No, you’re having me on.

We’re halfway through the year

Dammit.

Anyway — It’s no news that being halfway through the calendar year sees me more than halfway through my annual goal (because that happened last month), but it’s always a good time to stop and take stock.

As you’ll see shortly, this point finds me at 67 films. A bit of easy maths suggests this route would lead me to 134 films by years’ end, which would be a new record. Experience tells me it looks this way every year — last year, for instance, numbers suggested I’d make 128 by December 31st, but I actually reached 122. I’m sure the other years tell the same story: for whatever reason, the back six months don’t see as much film-watching activity on my part as the first six. Partly because once I pass 100 I’m not quite as motivated (it becomes a good time to catch up on TV, or films I’ve already seen and would like to re-watch).

Still, whether I do make it to 134 or not, I’m well on track to make it past 100. And that’s the aim after all.

This month’s 9

#59 Jonah Hex (2010)
#60 X-Men: First Class (2011)
#61 Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides (3D) (2011)
#62 Ip Man (2008)
#63 Law Abiding Citizen: Director’s Cut (2009)
#64 Valley of Fear (1983)
#65 Evangelion: 2.22 You Can (Not) Advance., aka Evangerion shin gekijôban: Ha (2009/2010)
#66 A Study in Terror (1965)
#67 Saw 3D (2D) (2010)

No Scott Pilgrim

In my look ahead to ‘vengeance week’, I mentioned having a review of Scott Pilgrim vs. the World posted for tonight. Obviously, that hasn’t happened and isn’t happening. Maybe soon; maybe in a few years — who knows! (I didn’t get round to watching it either, y’see.)

And I’m not even going to mention Once Upon a Time in America.

…oops

Next time on the all-new 100 Films in a Year monthly update…

Making promises is getting me nowhere. So, next month, I will probably watch some films, and I may review some of them, and in 31 days I’ll tell you how I got on. That last point I can guarantee.

Unless I have an unfortunate accident or something. Dammit.

Law Abiding Citizen: Director’s Cut (2009)

Posted on June 30, 2011 by badblokebob

2011 #63
2009 | F. Gary Gray | 118 mins | Blu-ray | 18

Law Abiding Citizen is a revenge movie with a (slight) difference: wronged man Gerard Butler isn’t just going after the two criminals who invaded his home and murdered his wife and daughter — he’s going after the legal system that let one of the men walk free.

As I say, the film begins in the home of Butler’s character, an apparently quiet family man of unclear occupation (you won’t notice this first time round — why would they clarify his occupation? what would it matter? — but it does become significant later) with a wife and a young daughter. Two men break in to rob them. One is uncertain, wants to be done and gone; the other is more aggressive — he ties them up, he attempts to rape the wife, and, ultimately (and off screen) murders the wife and daughter and leaves Butler for dead.

Months later, attorney Jamie Foxx strikes a deal: one of the attackers will get a reduced sentence for informing on the other, guaranteeing him the death penalty. Butler objects but Foxx is having none of it — the deal will be done. And then we learn that it’s the objector who’ll be getting the death penalty, while the actual murderer gets the reduced sentence. Foxx goes home, to his pregnant wife, fairly sure he did the right thing.

Ten years later… Foxx’s kid is now a similar age to Butler’s when she died. He still does the same job, by the same rules. He attends the execution of the aforementioned criminal, but something goes wrong — instead of going to sleep with a lethal injection, the attacker suffers an agonising and horrific death. Someone must have swapped the chemicals. The prosecutors’ thoughts leap to the other criminal, but I’m sure we’ve all guessed who’s really behind this. And so Butler’s sprawling revenge mission begins…

Normally I don’t spend three paragraphs outlining the plot of a movie — heck, normally I don’t grant it one (plot descriptions are easy to come by these days) — but I think the setup for Law Abiding Citizen is what makes it more interesting than your regular revenge movie. Despite it looking like a simplistic action movie, we’re actually presented with a situation where there are no clear-cut heroes and villains. Butler is wronged, he wants the killers of his family to suffer — normally, this vigilante is the hero. But did the accomplice deserve such agony? And what of the legal system he sets his sights on next, murdering lawyers and judges and the like. He’s a terrorist, normally the villain. Similar goes for Foxx — he’s the attorney, the good guy, he locks up criminals… but he’s part of a corrupt system that let a guilty man go more or less free with no thought for the truth or just punishment. So he’s not exactly a clean-cut hero either.

On the issue of who the film thinks is good and who it thinks is bad, Empire’s review asserts that “Death Wish vigilantism goes too far when you no longer grasp who you are supposed to be rooting for.” But isn’t that part of the point? Oh, wait, she’s headed me off on this one: “One might argue for the defence that this is meant to be provocatively subversive, with the ‘good guys’ becoming indistinguishable from the bad. The jury doesn’t buy it.” Well, I buy it. Both the lead characters are supposedly the good guys, but both do bad things to one degree or another. The film challenges us about who to side with. Sure, some viewers will come down hard one way… but some viewers will come down hard the other. Plenty of the rest will be left somewhere in between, sympathising with the wronged man but abhorring the extremes to which he goes. And what of Foxx at the end, who on the one hand has learnt his lesson (or says he has), but on the other resorts to the same kind of violent tactics employed by his opponent. Is he in the right now? Well, I suppose he did approve of the death penalty all along. Tsk, Americans.

There is action and violence in the film, and I’m sure that appeals to some viewers, but it’s not wholly central and not distracting from the other offerings: both the debatable morals mentioned above, and the mystery of how Butler is affecting his campaign of vengeance from within a maximum-security prison. This is where his previously-unmentioned prior occupation becomes relevant, but I won’t go that deep into the plot here. Some find the final act, where this is ultimately revealed and explained, to be a ludicrous step too far. It is a little far-fetched, granted, but it’s not so outside the rules the film sets up for itself that I find it unacceptable.

As for the violence, it can be a little extreme, but mostly it isn’t. One sequence threatens to be the definition of torture porn, but other than a verbal description we’re spared the majority of the gory details. The Director’s Cut runs about 10 minutes longer than the theatrical, and yes includes a smidgen more gore (though a graphic shot of a disembodied, mutilated head might be considered more than a smidgen), but seems to be largely made up of short character scenes and insignificant extensions to a variety of sequences. The film was cut to get an R in the US after being awarded an NC-17; this is officially released unrated, but I think we know what that means. (Both are 18 in the UK.)

Law Abiding Citizen seems to be far more popular with audiences than critics: on Rotten Tomatoes the critic score is a measly 25%, but the reader score is 77%; on IMDb it ranks 7.2; and on LOVEFiLM it has a solid four stars (and they allow half-stars). I must be more of a viewer than a critic, then, because I liked it. It is distasteful in a way, but, like its lead character, it has a point to make in a bold and attention-grabbing manner. Sure, you could make a more intelligent movie debating these points in a reasonable fashion, but you’re not going to interest the same audience — again, the same strategy employed by Butler’s character.

As an action-thriller that actually has something to think about wrapped up in it, I considered being a bit lenient in my score (much as I was to The Condemned). It’s let down by a few things though — its own far-fetchedness, especially toward the end, plus being generally overblown — so I’ve eventually gone on the lower end. Maybe I should start using half-stars after all…

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