Death Row Cinema Show

Reading the story of a inmate on death row who asked to watch the Lord of the Rings trilogy as his final request immediately made me think of what I would pick in that situation. Would I go for a film or film series with a long running time to prolong the inevitable, or would I opt for quality over quantity instead, or try for both?

The Lord of the Rings films actually seem like a reasonable choice and I would put in a cheeky request to have the director’s cut versions, which would bump the total viewing time up to another hour or two. I would probably be in the mood for some big Hollywood fantasy storytelling and these films would be perfect escapism, ideal I would have thought for someone in this awful situation. There are two problems here however. Due to Return of the King having a multitude of false ending, I can imagine the annoyance at constantly preparing myself to be collected from my cell, only to then be presented with another ten minute corny sequence of Samwise Gamgee or some other Hobbit, getting it on with, and marrying his female conquest back at the Shire. Also, due to the catharsis brought on by watching all three films together and the emotional send-off Frodo receives at the final, proper ending, I would be a right mess when the priest rocked up.

The Decalogue (Dekalog), consisting of ten one-hour films, each of which represents one of the Ten Commandments, would give me the time and intellectual nourishment I may require.  Created by the late Polish film-maker Krzysztof Kieślowski (for the uninitiated, Pulp Fiction beat his film, Three Colours Red, to the Palme d'Or in Cannes), it would be a long haul, but I would be watching a true master at work. The potentially big obstacle here would be in the form of the fifth part (re-titled A Short Film About Killing for theatrical release). It centres on a young man who murders a taxi driver and is eventually executed. This alone would be too much, but with another five to get though before permanent lights out, those hours could prove excruciating.

The Shawshank Redemption, a firm favourite amongst men of all social standing, is probably a little too obvious, plus the last thing you would want to see on death row (and indeed prison) would be an escape to freedom, complete with a nice boat in a sunny climate and Morgan Freeman for permanent company.

Ultimately, I think I would have to go the safe route and pick the original Star Wars trilogy (or if they wanted to save time and money on my execution, I could watched Jar-Jar and co. too which would probably spur me on to take my own life). One of my earliest memories was a trip to the cinema to see A New Hope and as my life would end after seeing the rebels defeat the evil empire and party down at Endor in Return of the Jedi, there would be a nice symmetry here.

You’ll believe a man can flap

Everyone has films from childhood which are still planted firmly into their subconscious. They're able to hum the cheesy theme tune and quote huge chunks of obscure dialogue in a heartbeat. The thing I love about some of these is they didn’t necessarily have any critical cache and were far from capturing the zeitgeist like Star Wars. Some of those films I remember so fondly didn’t leave much of mark at all.

Taking with my friend the other day, I was surprised that he was unaware of a film I thoroughly enjoyed as a young child – the permanent bank holiday fixture that was Condorman. Made by Disney in 1981, it looks like they tried to cash-in on a number of popular franchises and pop culture of the time. Coming off as a kind of Bond/Batman hybrid, with elements of Indiana Jones (particularly in the main characters globe-trotting escapades) the premise itself is quite intriguing even if it takes an incredible amount of suspension of disbelief (which, fortunately, I had bags of as a child). It’s the story of a cartoonist who is enlisted by his friend from the CIA to work undercover (see what I mean) and begins to bring his comic book creation ‘Condorman’ into the equation as an alter ego.

Where childhood favourites like The Last Starfighter and Explorers were well-made pieces of Hollywood escapism and still hold up now, Condorman is as clunky looking as when I first saw it, and still as endearing because of that.

This could be due, in part, to the bizarre casting of British stage show thesp Michael Crawford in the title role. Looking back at the big US box office draws in the early 80’s, and even the popular character actors, I’m mystified how he actually managed to get cast. The character is supposed to be an everyman type and Crawford certainly fits that bill, as the performance here is pretty similar to his turn as accident prone Frank Spencer in the ‘classic’ 1970’s BBC sitcom Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em. Maybe Disney executives at the time were fans of that type of antiquated British slapstick humour, still loved by the kind of people who have a nostalgic yearning for those simpler times (read: anyone over  the age of sixty).   

It’s not the only film where I have my critical blinkers on (hello Runaway, Mannequin, Superman III, plus many more from that era), and I’m happy I can still look at these in a purely entertaining way, free from any kind of analysis. These films came into existence in a time where my quality control was almost zero (although I instinctively knew that Howard the Duck was a steaming pile of dog-doo) and that’s the way it should be. The simple pleasure of watching a man dressed in a ridiculous-looking bird costume with wings, leaping off a tall building with the heroine in tow (all shot against terrible blue-screen), was adequate for me.

I made this

The last time I was back at my parent’s home, I had the opportunity to rummage through all my old childhood crap. This was actually at the request of my Mum, who has slowly grown tired of all her spare storage space resembling some kind of pop-culture dumping ground. To my delight, I came across this lovingly crafted homage to Star Wars made in infant school when I was 5 or 6. As I recall, my whole life at that age revolved around The Muppets and this
sacred trilogy.

It’s surprising how easy it is to pick out and recognise characters from the film on the cover and first page. I can’t decide whether it’s my uncanny artistic prowess at such a young age or that the characters are now so genuinely iconic, you could probably pick them out from undistinguishable blobs on a page. I think it’s probably the latter. That’s my teacher’s hand-writing on the cover by the way.

I think I’ve misunderstood a fundamental point to the Death Star and our heroes' introduction to it. They weren’t trying to get in the damn thing!

Proof of my early, active imagination as I surreptitiously place an Imperial stormtrooper on some ladders above the Vader/Obi Wan climatic fight scene. An example of thinking outside the cinematic box at such a young age.

Not sure what I had in mind when I created the red blob surrounded by a shimmering yellow light. Also, my interpretation of an X-Wing looks like a glowing candlestick holder with the bottom missing.

Notice how I deem the destruction of a major threat in the evil Empire worthy of some ‘prizes’ for Luke and co, as if they’ve just won the two-legged race at a school sports day.