Mumble awe

Purely by coincidence and not in some sad attempt to bolster my hip indie-film awareness credentials, I recently watched two films from the Mumblecore collective (Humpday and Beeswax) within a week of each other. Mumblecore, a very evocative title (actually coined by a sound editor on one of the early films) reflects, to some extent, the semi-improvisational, sometimes inaudible speech inflections of the actors involved.

Having watched an early effort from this sub-genre at the ICA a couple of years back (Andrew Bujalski’s debut Funny Ha Ha), I was really impressed by the naturalistic tone and performances on display. Bujalski’s characters in both this and his second feature, Mutual Appreciation, are within my age group, and he taps into the whole post-university malaise that I certainly felt. It was also incredibly refreshing to see a filmmaker with complete autonomy over his work, far from the pull of Hollywood. Even the closing credits were hand-written in pencil! This way of film-making may not be revelatory (John Cassavetes was knocking out thematically-similar work, outside of the system, thirty years earlier), but it’s just nice to see it done for my generation, particularly amidst the major studio’s gentrification of the independent scene.

I came across The Puffy Chair courtesy of Film4 a couple of months later, and although more structured in terms of plotting and story, this was another example of film-makers who were interested in eliciting realistic and honest performances from their cast, and placing them in familiar and relatable scenarios. Written and directed by two brothers, Mark and Jay Duplass, (Mark also acts and co-starred in Humpday) It’s a funny and warm tale which taps into the all too recognisable theme of the imperfections in love and relationships. The artistic partnership here really helps to create an intimate environment, and this extends to the other films, where there is a real comradery between the different filmmakers and a strong sense of a creative community. Many take turns in acting in one another’s films and assist on shoots. It’s the kind of supportive environment which in an ideal world, should be the next evolutionary step up for students has have finished a filmmaking degree and are intent on carving out a career for themselves.

Fringe movements like this almost inevitably at some point end of dipping their toe in the Hollywood mainstream. A couple of actors from the scene (leading female figure Greta Gerwig and Duplass again) crop up in Noah Baumbach’s new feature Greenberg, and I’m looking forward to seeing them share screen time with more recognised mainstream performers like Ben Stiller and Rhys Ifans. The Duplass brothers have their first studio film ready, which received a warm reception at Sundance this year. Judging by the trailers and reviews, they seemed to have been able to maintain their style, but instead of having unknowns, seasoned actors like John C. Reilly and Marisa Tomei are now headlining. This for me is the exciting part of any kind of art movement - when there is the opportunity to infiltrate the mainstream and still remain essentially true to the core ideology.

Long may they mumble.

Also worth checking out:
In Search of a Midnight Kiss (2008)

Toy story

In the midst of social upheaval and a country in the grip of change, I settled down to watch one of last summer’s blockbusters which I missed the first time around at the cinema – GI Joe. By miss I actually mean strenuously avoided until someone I met recently gave it a hearty endorsement, triggering in me a perverse desire to seek it out. Apart from the all too obvious monetary benefits, I find it really bizarre that Hollywood has now started to produce films based on childhood toy favourites. The term ‘brand aware’ gets banded around as the chief selling point, but it’s not like I still have a real curiosity to see to my old playthings get a feature film makeover. Unlike a book adaptation, I couldn’t imagine watching these films and thinking that characters didn’t translate to screen as well as I would have imagined when I once played with them - that disappointingly, the same nuances and behaviour I projected on them as a seven year-old hadn’t quite been captured by the filmmakers (although I think that was probably achieved with GI Joe actually).


Unsurprisingly, the film turned out pretty much how I expected. Still, partially at least, it managed to entertain under the old ‘so bad, it’s entertaining’ adage. It’s both a homage to and recreation of the terrible 80’s action flicks that, as a youth, I happily splurged my pocket money on at the video shop. Perhaps surprisingly though, there’s more of a dumbed-down feeling here. Plot exposition reaches new and exhaustive levels, where every character feels the need to explain every piece of action unfolding right in from of their (and our) eyes. It’s like an alternative, spoken version of the hard-of-hearing sign language guides you sometimes see at the bottom of the screen on late-night TV programmes. The characters enter a hanger which clearly houses a huge jet, filling the frame - someone proclaims there is a jet in front of them. The good guys wonder which iconic Parisian landmark the bad guys are planning on destroying as a prolonged shot (at six seconds, making it the longest in the film) of the Eiffel Tower lingers in the background. Weird little throwaway flashbacks are used too, as some kind of attempt at building character’s back stories and motivations. This includes a series of mini Kill Bill-esque scenes, featuring the origin, training and eventual betrayal between two warring ninjas, all roughly amounting up to a minute and a half of screen time. I also loved the flashback to The Duke (Channing Tatum) with his sweetheart, before her traitorous actions tear them apart (everyone is double-crossing every other character in this film). The scene has the two of them dancing to the jive in some old ballroom, while he’s wearing an old-fashioned GI outfit. It looks like something from a 50’s wartime melodrama and is completely and hilariously at odds with the rest of the film’s pseudo-futuristic look.


With the exception of Tatum who thinks he’s in Platoon 2, everyone involved appears utterly aware of that they are making. When you have a serious indie actor like Joseph Gordon Lovett (playing Cobra Commander) shamelessly mugging to the camera so much so, that he never looks like he’s taking one shred of it seriously, you know the kind of tone this film is aiming for. There’s a scene with Dennis Quaid, leader of Joes delivering the stirring, call-to-arms speech to his team, with a distractingly obvious and knowing smile plastered across his face throughout. You can imagine him saying “this has to be the take used, right?” immediately after cut has been yelled. In fact, every actor looks like they’re on the cusp of bursting into fits of laughter most of the time, especially during the more ‘emotional’ scenes. Given all this, it’s pretty difficult to inflict too much criticism.


Maybe this film is an example of the literal infantilisation of Hollywood, with director Steven Sommers applying the theory that it’s all just an extension of the box of toys he possessed as a child, playing with the actors the same way as he did with those pieces of moulded plastic with poseable limbs. I can see him now hunched over his monitor, thumb in mouth, receiving a friendly child-like ruffle of his hair from the actors and DOP after a take.


When you think of the money he had at his disposal and that literally within the space of a couple of months, this was churned out by the same studio which made Star Trek, it begins to get a little worrying. There will always be people arguing that it’s a film based on a toy range, so what’s to be expected? This is true to a certain extent, but as this has also been obviously pitched to a nostalgic, older male demographic, that excuse is a huge copout really. Still, if this is what filmmakers and studio accept as good product from which you can also reap huge financial rewards, then there’s hope for all aspiring film-makers out there, from ages 6+ onwards.

The Blunder Years

For someone who during his school years, possessed zero co-ordination skills, instead seeking solace in comics and fantasy films, and was more than a few times on the receiving end of the dreaded “I like you as a friend” rebuff when asking girls out, I feel a particular kinship towards the short lived, eighties-set coming of age ‘dramedy’ Freaks and Geeks. In fact, having watched all the episodes (only eighteen were produced) with my girlfriend, the sense of sadness and loss I now feel is greater to than when I finally got to the end of The Wire.

For those who haven’t seen or heard of this series before, the lazy shorthand way to describe it would be “it’s The Wonder Years meets Dazed and Confused” but that really does the show a massive injustice. Created by future Hollywood one-man comedy factory ,Judd Apatow, the freaks and geeks of the title are two social groups who exist on the outside fringe of popular high school society. Lindsay Weir (Linda Cardellini) is a straight-A student and a dedicated ‘mathelite’ who’s growing desire to rebel and forge his own identify leads to hanging out with the freaks - a band of misfits, including one Seth Rogen (looking really young), whose exchanges literally take place under the school stairs and sports stands (I believe ‘bleachers’ is the correct US term) - these setting cleverly reflecting the groups own social standing. Lindsey’s younger brother Sam (Bones regular John Francis Daley) is part of the trio of Dungeons & Dragons playing, sci-fi loving geeks. The two siblings act as the main focal point for each group, and we also get the chance to see the changes at home as their parents feature in each episode.

One aspect of the show which I found particularly impressive is the darker tone and the depiction of kids living outside the accepted norm - something which is not really represented in this genre. Presumably this was part of the reason why it didn’t catch on with the mainstream. The familiar twin adolescent themes of acceptance and alienation are instantly recognisable and have been covered in other shows before, but it’s done here without the usual clichéd ‘life lessons learned’ moments and with dialogue which hasn’t been written by adults who have no actual memory of what it was like to have lived and talked as a teenager, choosing instead to showcase their verbal dexterity (Dawson’s Creek scribe Kevin Williams is one such culprit, amongst many others). Conflicts here go unresolved and the school experience is never given a sugar-coated treatment. To say I was a huge fan of The Wonder Years growing up would be a vast understatement, but having revisited a number of episodes recently, I found it hard to swallow some of Kevin Arnold’s more wistful and overly-sentimental voice over and some of the more syrupy content.

Freaks and Geeks has only had a limited showing over here in the UK, and to very little fanfare. This is a real shame because aside from being well-written and incredibly astute in its observations of teenage hardship, the ensemble cast are amazing. Having seen all of Apatow’s work on the big screen beforehand, it was a nice surprise to see the number of actors here who have gone on to populate his films. Amongst the standouts (and there are many) is Martin Starr. Playing one of the geeks, he delivers a brave and vanity-free performance which alternates between hilarity and heartbreak, sometimes in the same episode.  In fact, it’s a performance that is so on the money, I can only guess that he was somewhat living the part. Starr was the housemate who was ridiculed for refusing to shave his beard in Knocked Up, and I’ve seen him in other smaller comedic roles, mostly within the Apatow-produced stuff. Full-blown stardom can’t be far around the corner - he could easily carry a film like Rogen and Jason Segal (another successful cast member to go onto bigger things).

Perhaps the best comment on love and relationships during the teenage years can be found in an episode which involves Sam finally realising he doesn’t have anything in common with his dream girl, who he’s managed to start dating. He takes her to see The Jerk which she doesn’t find remotely funny, arguing that “it’s just dumb” when challenged by Sam. It’s perfect in its simplicity. There’s no big dramatic break-up scene where the two contemplate a life without each other and feel the need to explain away their differences in agonising detail (I’m paddling back up that Creek again). Just as The Wonder Years turned me onto all kinds of music from that era, Freaks and Geeks has a great selection of music which really helps to compliment the strong period detail established. It’s also led me to download a number of tracks by self-indulgent, delightfully over-the-top progressive rock masters like Rush and Styx.

Above all, Freaks and Geeks is an engaging slice of nostalgia which champions diversity and illustrates the notion that your social status and attitude in school doesn’t necessarily reflect how you will turn out in later life. If only this programme had been made a decades or so earlier, it may have made my transition from adolescent through to adulthood much smoother.

Stuff I own on Region 1

3. Lone Star

It’s truly puzzling when films like this are readily available in the Region 2 format and this John Sayles gem from 1996 isn’t. It’s a fantastic movie and up there with Matewan as Sayles’ greatest work.

The usual ingredients of his films are present here – astute social commentary, a brilliant ensemble cast and riveting dialogue - but all this is also framed within an intriguing and engrossing murder mystery, which begins when old bones belonging to a racist sheriff who vanished without trace decades before, are found. This discovery stirs up old feelings and secrets within a mixed American and Mexican community. Sayles regular Chris Cooper plays the sheriff of the town who suspects his own late father, the sheriff before him, of having a hand in his colleague’s death.

Matthew McConaughey plays the role of Cooper’s father, giving a truly commanding performance in the beautifully staged flashback sequences. Why McConaughey has sullied his career by starring almost exclusively in crappy, lifeless romantic comedies is beyond me. This role, together with his turn in Dazed and Confused, really signalled the arrival of an actor who had the potential to encapsulate the style of classic Hollywood players like Newman and McQueen. Shame.

Seek this out if you can as it really deserves to be seen.

A cinematic coming-out tale or: How I stopped worrying and learned to embrace my inner geek

“I’ve got one for you - what was the real name of the black guy in Aliens?” This was the question fired at me by a work colleague and fellow film enthusiast back in my early twenties. He knew of course, and so did I, although I wasn’t letting on. Yaphet Kotto was the actor in question (a name which admittedly, doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue). I first knew of him as the freaky Bond villain in Live and Let Die, and later as the third lead in Paul Schrader’s directorial debut Blue Collar - a film I admired greatly. Also, he was one of the heavies who met an early demise at the hands of Schwarzenegger on the hunt for his kidnapped daughter “Chenni” in the classic Commando. No wait…..that was Bill Duke. Kotto played opposite Arnie in The Running Man (with Duke subsequently going on to star with Arnie again in Predator, alongside another Running Man co-star, Jessie Ventura). I was well aware of Yaphet Kotto and his films, but all I did was feign forgetfulness and eventually stuttered “is it someone who name begins with Y or something?”

Back then, I considered my encyclopaedic film knowledge more of a curse than a blessing. Having recently starting seeing my first, long-term serious girlfriend, I felt I had to keep my passion largely suppressed, as I was initially afraid that she may be put off. As a result of this, I would find myself in social situations with her, grinning through clenched teeth when someone in our company made a filmic faux-pas that I knew I could easily rectify.

When a rabid football supporter names his or her children after favourite players, no one bats an eyelid. If I were to christen my new-born Martin Quentin Ethan Wes Joel Paul Thomas Lowes, I would be mocked and ridiculed till the end of my time on this earth. I’ve never heard the term ‘footy geek’ (or even ‘sports geek’ for that matter), banded around as an insult. Is it because sports are seen as a more mainstream and masculine pursuit, as opposed to the cineaste, who festers away fervently absorbing vast quantities of films, usually within the constraints of a dark room?

Two things eventually helped me to reveal what I had been concealing for so long. Although I had a couple of friends who were as well-versed in cinema as myself, it was the internet where I finally discovered that not only were there thousands of likewise geeks (some who possessed an even richer degree of filmic knowledge), but that some were actually making a fantastic career out of it, reaching a huge amount of fans via a grass-roots level and gaining levels of readership that the esteemed, old-school circle of film critics could only dream of. Secondly, there came a point as I reached my mid-twenties when the devastating realisation that I would never attain anywhere near the Fonz-level of cool I had once dreamed of, finally dawned on me. It was time to come to terms with who I was.

Nowadays I’m only too happy to wax lyrical about the latest Coen brothers feature to anyone in earshot, regardless to whether they’re interested or not. The number of hours devoted to reading film news and gossip on-line and the constant cross-referencing on IMDB is sometimes frowned upon but otherwise accepted by my other half who amazingly, still wanted to share her life with me after I revealed everything to her in the early stages of our relationship. Although being much more open about my love for cinema in general, I have found a way to keep a lid on it sometimes, in much the same way as Bruce Banner fights to attain the ability to control his inner urges and preventing himself from ‘Hulking out’.

Just don’t try and convince me that Michael Bay is an underappreciated auteur. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.

Hacyon days of Horror

Skim-viewing a couple of old horror films from the ‘video nasties’ era recently, it made me realise how much censorship and film-viewing has changed in this modern age. The films in question were Zombie Flesh Eaters from cult Italian filmmaker Lucio Fulci, and the then notorious Cannibal Ferox. Both, inevitably, have dated somewhat, but are competently made and feature some truly gory scenes (Flesh Eaters also provided an amazing sequence which even managed to make this jaded viewer sit up and take note - a zombie, while underwater, mounts an attack on an actual shark!). It’s hard to believe that a lauded, award-winning studio horror film like The Exorcist was denied a video certification in the same era as these two.

Back in my school days, these were the types of films which kids bragged about seeing, their over-stimulated imaginations embellishing the already horrific content. Even kids who hadn’t seen the films would attempt offer a blow-by-blow account of the narrative, relying on word-of-mouth and Chinese whispers, thus adding to the intrigue at the same time. Without doubt, all this helped to cement the (unjust) bad reputation these films received. In the rare occasion that a grubby horror VHS crossed your path, you would usually assemble your group of similarly minded friends so you could all partake in this illicit and thrilling viewing experience together.

Today, five minutes worth of Takashi Miike’s 2002 gorefest, Ichi the Killer (wildly available on DVD) contains more dismemberment, sexual depravity and outright gore than the entire back catalogue of these earlier films - something that doesn’t seem to bother a knowing, modern audience. While CG effects can be repulsively efficient, we are subconsciously aware that what we are seeing has been created digitally (although the advent of Avatar may change this). Back in the day, in-camera effects definitely added an extra squirm factor and were effective enough to send the censers into a spin.

Cannibal Ferox, a precursor to the likes of the Blair Witch Project, with its pseudo-documentary content, was minus the heavily-marketed campaign that its predecessor relied in an attempt to blur the line between reality and fiction. The eventual media over-saturation of the Blair Witch whittled away any initial mystery about its origins. Niche marketing of titles like ‘Ferox’ was non-existent back then, which helped maintain a welcomed level of mystery. Now, you are always a mouse click away from scenes of real death and violence, thus rendered this idea of ‘found footage’ pretty much redundant. The web has also contributed to the loss of intrigue surrounding films as fan pages and downloads galore ensures that once hard to obtain material is immediately downloadable. Ironically, I even watched the two films above on my friend’s PC. To counteract this, and on a pleasingly retro note, I had the chance recently to watch a ripped, muddy-looking copy of the latest Rambo film on DVD. This added nicely to the overall effect that I was back in 88’, watching an old-school shlocky action-adventure, enhancing my appreciation of an overwise crappy film.

I wonder how the next generation of curious film aficionados would have reacted to modern horror films, particularly those in the ‘torture porn’ sub-genre, if they had been presented to them as a shoddy, several generations-old VHS tape, with little or no knowledge of the content beforehand. Would these films (many of which with the exception of the two Hostel flicks, have now disappeared from the cultural radar completely) have achieved a similar mythical status?

Coasting along on Cruise-control

Watching Magnolia at the weekend for the first time in ages, reminded me of the genius of Paul Thomas Anderson, a fresh-faced 30 years old when he made it (this fact alone is enough to send me into a spiralling depression). It’s an astonishing and audacious film, and while the entire ensemble delivers award-worthy performances, it’s Tom Cruise who stands out in particular. As sex guru Frank T.J. Mackey, delivering his now-famous “Respect the cock and tame the cunt!” mantra (which has been sampled on numerous house music tracks) to a testosterone-fuelled conference room, it’s like watching a new, exciting version of the actor perform.

As impressive as this first sequence is, it’s the stripping away of his bloated and grotesquely self-assured façade, during an interview where his past life is unearthed, where Cruise really shows what he’s capable of as an actor. Anderson must have tread where others had previously failed (or feared) to do so, and talked to Cruise about bringing his own personal history of paternal estrangement to the character. It’s a theme throughout the film and one which occupies the latter part of his arc, when Mackey manages to do what Cruise couldn’t, and reach sort kind of closure with his dying father. What we also see in the interview scene is the kind of meltdown which Cruise the person (before the notorious ‘couch-hopping’ incident) had strenuously avoided in his own professional career, achieved mainly on his reliance of a meticulously guarded PR team. Subverting the public’s perceptions of him and free of his own self-enforced safety net, Cruise is mesmerising.

It’s not the only time he’s stretched himself as Born on the Fourth of July demonstrated ten years earlier. An attempt by Cruise to shed his poster boy image, he acquits himself extremely well in the role of paraplegic Vietnam vet Ron Kovak, although his efforts are undermined somewhat by director Oliver Stone’s overly-sentimental direction. Frustratingly, Cruise’s follow-up role to Magnolia in the 2000 summer blockbuster Mission Impossible II saw him revert back to his usual narcissistic self - all slow-mo, ‘look at amazing me’ gestures, much to the detriment of the film.

Now pushing fifty, he’s not quite in the same box office position he was a decade earlier, with contributing factors to this being his ill-advised Scientology comments and the tabloids whisperings which followed. He was fine as the villain in Collateral, but this character still hinged on the Hollywood archetype we’ve seen numerous times before. It would be far more interesting if Cruise ditched the more obvious leading man roles and concentrated on acting in edgier, independently-minded productions. Ironically, nominated for a Best Supporting Oscar for Magnolia, Cruise lost out to Michael Caine – an actor who has embraced growing older and delivered some fine character performances in the later stages of his career.

Having just watched a trailer for this summer’s Day and Knight, an action-romance which reunites him with his Vanilla Sky co-star Cameron Diaz, it looks as if Cruise is repeating the same stuff reminiscent of his earlier films. I think it’s time for him once again to work with the right director and jettison his ego-centric choice of roles (think more ‘Tropic’ than ‘Days of’) and the constraints they bring to his performance.

Looking back at his career, I’m sure he would like the term maverick to be used in explaining his range and not just referring to a past character he played.

Alternative 2009 film list

Another year draws to a close and another list of critic’s top ten end-of-year lists crop up everywhere. Although I have a top ten list of my own (including the likes of Star Trek, Inglorious Basterds, The Hurt Locker, The Fantastic Mr. Fox and Funny People) I thought I would do things slightly different:

Film which has made some critic’s top ten lists, but wouldn’t feature anywhere near mine – Drag Me to Hell

I genuinely don’t understand why there was so much love for this film. Aside from a fun opening and a shockingly uncompromising ending, the film was very predictable (gee, I wonder if the boyfriend’s uptight parent’s dinner will end in disaster?) and, with the exception of Justin Long, poorly acted. I know it’s suppose to be a fun, popcorn horror, but surely star Alison Lohman could have at least looked remotely disturbed and concerned at what was going on around her!

The much raved-about séance scene, which many felt harked back to Raimi’s g(l)ory days, simply didn’t work for me. The level of CGI (particularly involving the possessed goat) looked overly cartoon-ish and just not scary. Even the gross-out stuff done in-camera didn’t push the boundaries enough, presumably to appease the intended mainstream audience. Shame.

Film which I really wanted to love but upon viewing, ultimately found it a little overrated - District 9

Don’t get me wrong, there’s much to admire in this low-budget (for the genre) sci-fi/action hybrid from South Africa, particularly the lead performance, the seamless and creative CGI and the pseudo-documentary narrative approach. I just wish that the second half hadn’t descended into a more conventional action route, complete with multiple gun fights and the snarling, bald bad guy who can’t shoot the hero without the clichéd menacing and protracted pause, allowing for him to perish first. It actually reminded me of those cheap DTV post-apocalyptic actioners from the 80’s. Ordinarily this wouldn’t be too much of a bad thing, but after the initial premise and set-up here, I felt the film was worthy of delivering so much more.

Biggest literary adaptation disappointment of the year - Revolutionary Road

I really love Richard Yates’ novel of the same name, so as you can image, I was a little apprehensive when I read it was being made into a film. I’m not a fan of Sam Mendes for starters, but I knew he was casting good actors and upon viewing the powerful Nina Simone-backed trailer (which even managed to make my girlfriend cry - a first for trailers possibly?) I started to put aside my preconceptions and began to get excited at a possible faithful adaptation. I was very wrong.

In a nutshell, all the nuance of the book was frustratingly whittled down into a dull, lengthy slagging match between Kate and Leo. My only consolation is that maybe others who were similarly disappointed will seek out the original source material.

Best older film find of the year – Matewan

This finally arrived in the post after being on my LoveFilm wish list for months and it was certainly worth the wait! A superb historical ensemble drama, this is up there with Lone Star as my favourite of John Sayles films.

Best non-distracting and effective cameo of the year – Guy Pearce in The Hurt Locker

Although I was already aware of his early demise before I watched this film, I think the strength of Pearce’s understated but solid performances in a very short time on screen, made me really wish what was coming to him didn’t. As for the unsuspecting audience, it's a nasty and unsettling surprise when the character you wrongly perceive to be the lead, is killed ten minutes into the film - nobody is safe after that. I don't know why this guy still isn’t in the same box office league as his LA Confidential co-star, Russell Crowe.

Best naturalistic, slice-of-life film, which would probably appeal to very little of my non-film geek friends who almost always insist on having a busy narrative and plot to follow, and use that as a means of judging the merits of a film – Wendy and Lucy

As I’ve eloquently described above, this film isn’t for everyone, but I really responded to the minimal approach on screen here – same way I did with director Kelly Reinhardt’s previous feature, Old Joy.

Best film of the year which I haven’t seen yet, but hear great things about – In The Loop

For one reason or another, I missed this on its cinema release and I’ve subsequently been told by many friends and acquaintances how fantastic it is and how I was a fool for not catching it on the big screen. It now tops my LoveFilm list, so it could make the 2009 best of as yet.

Best performance which successfully destroyed my innocent childhood memories – Carrie Fischer in White Lightnin

An incredible vanity-free performance from the artist  formally known as Leia Organa, playing a sexually-repressed middle-aged (and looking the part) housewife, who runs off and has lots of frantic sex with twentysomething Appalachian dancer Jesco White in this murky, stylised biopic. If you thought seeing Fisher getting it on with her own brother in a galaxy far, far away was weird, you should check this film out.

'I liked it - it was different!'

We all know what a subjective medium film is. The same people who will defend a Sandra Bullock film to the death are hardly the type who will eagerly seek out Michael Haneke’s latest venture. My sister and I recently crossed cinematic paths for the first time in over a decade, the last time being my ill-advised suggestion that her and her friends should drop everything and go and see Boogie Nights immediately - a film I had fallen in love with and wanted everyone else I knew to feel the same. This turned out to be a slight misjudgement on my behalf, as you can imagine.

The film in question this time was Wes Anderson’s exhilarating adaptation of Fantastic Mr. Fox, which successfully managed to straddle the line between the mainstream and the more specialist, quirky indie-type fare, resulting in two people with diverse tastes coming together to lavish equal praise. It didn’t hurt that it was adapted from a well-loved children’s story, although that wouldn’t have helped quell any negativity if the film had been poor.

I love those rare occasions when films manage to cater for a diverse range of audience, breaking through to a group of cinema-goers who would, under normal circumstances, stay well away from such material, and in some cases, hold it in downright contempt. My friend’s mum and a group of her friends all ventured to see Lost in Translation (a film which was far from their normal cultural radar) when it was first released, with favourable results. Was it the May-December romance which potentially enticed them or perhaps it was the Oscar buzz (and the publicity around that) which was beginning to build which may have been perceived as adding some weight? Maybe she was aware of Bill Murray and was subconsciously intrigued as to how he would perform in a different kind of role. In the end though, I’m guessing the main reason which finally persuaded her to make that rare trip to the ‘pictures’, was her son’s enthusiastic recommendation. He too must have seen something in the material which made him believe that, although this was a departure from his mum’s normal viewing choice - she would be able to make the leap and appreciate the film. Sometimes what films of this nature really need is a supportive nudge from friends or relatives, rather than any well-mounted marketing campaign.

It also helps to infuse your film with universally recognised themes like love and poverty, combined with a large dose of wish-fulfilment underneath all the style, which Danny Boyle managed to successfully do with this year’s Slumdog Millionaire. This was a film which didn’t immediately scream mainstream, and at one point, looked like it may not get a cinema release at all. During the fantastic, rousing Bollywood-style dance sequence at the end, I couldn’t help but marvel at the amount of people who had flocked to the cinema to see this - many encouraged to do so by friends, relatives, work colleagues, etc. At that moment, all my cynicism fell away and I was genuinely moved by the cultural-bridging that I was experiencing right in front of me.

Sometimes the opposite can happen. The self confessed film snob that I am, I was dragged to a screening of the film version of Sex and the City by my girlfriend who had indulged my viewing preferences many, many time previously and now wanted to see something she was interested in. To my surprise, it turned out to be an enjoyable film. I’ve still managed to avoid Mama Mia at all costs however, and intend to do so until the end of my time in this world.

I wish more people would move out of their comfort zone and embrace films which don’t necessarily hold the type of overtly commercial appeal they usually opt for. On this occasion for me, all it took was a talking, cocky fox, traipsing around the countryside to the strains of Heroes and Villains, to bring together two siblings with polarising tastes.

The biggest star doesn't always equal the brightest

"A man’s gotta know his limitations"
Harry Callahan

I finally got round to seeing Zombieland at the cinema last week. A very entertaining and likeable film, thanks in part to the always welcome presence of Woody Harrelson. Harrelson is up there with the likes of Paul Giamatti and Tom Wilkinson as one of those character actors you can always rely on to bring something interesting to a role, regardless of the quality on display in the rest of the film. I’m not placing the success of Zombieland firmly on his shoulders, but his performance definitely enhances this film, which is currently doing very well financially, both internationally and in the U.S, and on a relatively modest budget. It’s a perfect example of how Hollywood can still thrive in the current climate.

Studios should be making use of these character actors whenever possible. It’s crazy to think of the amount of expensive, big name ‘movie stars’ who often fail to deliver, and the amazing selection of actors available who would do a much better job, and for a fraction of the price. Post-Cheers, Harrelson seemed to move towards the leading Hollywood man in his early film career (with roles in films like Indecent Proposal and White Man Can’t Jump) before straddling the line between character actor in supporting parts and leads in smaller, independent films. Now in his late-forties, making no discernable attempts at disguising his baldness, nor revealing any (noticeable) tale-tell signs of trying to fight the aging process, he’s a refreshing and appealing alternative to the traditional Hollywood star.

Billy Bob Thornton, now the complete antithesis of this, is a fascinating example of an actor who has tried to navigate the opposite route and vie for the position of leading man after playing grubby, outcast character types. Go back and watch some of Thornton's earlier work (the undervalued and underrated One False Move and A Simple Plan are two fine examples) and compare them against some of his recent duds. He looks like a completely different person. Botox, hair-plugs, multiple face-lifts and a seemingly overriding desire to resemble Burt Reynolds, appear to be his biggest crimes. All the unique attributes that once made him immensely watchable and put him in the same dependable league as the likes of Harrelson and Giamatti, have now been physically air-brushed out, rendering him redundant as either the lead or as the quirky support. Once dubbed a “hillbilly Orson Welles” by Robert Duval, I hope his name won’t be only thing that will be reminiscent of this praise in the future.

Ben Affleck is another who tried to make the leap and scrambled to keep himself falling off the edge. Originally one of Kevin Smith’s stock players and genuinely hilarious as the savage school bully O’Bannion in Dazed and Confused, Affleck was ushered into the position of matinee idol to almost unanimous critical and box office failure. Why couldn’t he have realised where his talent lay and developed the everyman, indie character actor he originally made his name with? I can’t think of a more apt metaphor than the story I read about the studio that backed Armageddon, paying for him to have his teeth ‘fixed’ before filming began. Unlike Thornton, Affleck has since had the chance to redeem himself via his talent as a director and by choosing acting roles which play to his strengths, including his praised performance in Hollywoodland, which ultimately earned him the best actor award at the Venice Film Festival.

Now I can’t possible begin to understand the pressures and struggles faced when trying to make it in Hollywood, with all the countless egos encountered and battled with, but wouldn’t it make sense for actors on the cusp of fame and recognition to use their supposed boundaries as an advantage and not as a handicap. In the end, surely career longevity must be more appealing than a couple of years fighting to be top at the box office and trying to fit in a box you clearly aren’t designed for. Audiences, however fickle they may be, soon pick up on this form of cinematic subterfuge.

After all, as they say, beauty is in the eye of the cinema ticket-holder.

Behind the scenes of reel life

Making-of docs of some form or another usually accompany a film when it reaches DVD stage. Some are bog-standard disc filler, while others are more extensive and made by real fans of the actual the film in question, sometimes as a retrospective.

There are occasionally documentaries about film and filmmaking made which deserve to be viewed as a stand-alone to the actual films themselves. Famous amongst these are the likes of Hearts of Darkness and Lost in La Mancha but the three films I’ve chosen below offer a slightly different take on this sub-genre:


Overnight
Scanning Apple Trailers this week, I came across the sequel to a film which I thought was pretty terrible, but has turned into something of a cult classic – The Boondock Saints. My first exposure to this film came in the form of a making-of documentary, titled Overnight.

It’s a rags-to-riches-back-to-rags story of director Troy Duffy and how he managed to burn all his Hollywood bridges with a truly atrocious and repulsive display of ego. On the strength of his first screenplay, Miramax’s then co-head Harvey Weinstein, went to the unprecedented length of shelling out money to buy Duffy’s local bar for him, use his (awful) band to score the film and generally garnish him with loads of moolah and praise. Believing himself to be the next Scorsese, Duffy proceeded to slate every casting choice, ranging from Kenneth Brannaugh to Keanu Reeves (ok, that’s understandable), while constantly alienating himself from the people who were vital for him in achieving his vision - all this before he’d even shot a single frame of film! The end shot of this film is very similar to that of The Pledge, this time with Duffy replacing Jack Nicholson’s character in that film, framed in a single, solitary shot outside a club, looking like he’s on the edge of sanity.

That he managed to finally make the film (without major backing) and has now produced a sequel, probably sends out mixed messages to aspiring film-makers, but this documentary is a great cautionary tale and probably the best example available about a supposed artist’s dedicated and unwaveringly belief in his own hype.


American Movie
Working as a lo-fi, comedic companion piece to Overnight and set in the kind of America represented on screen by filmmakers like the Coen Brothers, American Movie transplants the tale of skewed egos to the Midwest. It focuses on deluded but amiable loser Mark Borchardt and his attempts to make the “great American movie” while unable to keep up with the child maintenance for this three kids, hold down any regular employment or pay back all the money his once-encouraging family have lent him throughout the years. With his best friend in-tow, a dead-behind-the-eyes acid and booze casualty called Mark, we follow the making of his low-budget horror short Coven, which he hopes will eventually fund his ultimate dream project.

There is some really fantastic material here and similar to the recent documentary King of Kongs: A Fistful of Quarters, even the most accomplished script-writers out there couldn’t come up with as funny and well-defined characters and scenarios on display here. Seeing Mark’s weak, elderly cantankerous uncle attempts at providing a dubbed line of dialogue in post-production and utterly failing each time is priceless. This has been shown on BBC2 a couple of times now, during the kind of hours where only post-clubbers or insomniacs would catch it. If it’s ever on again I would thoroughly recommend everyone who has Sky+ to record this or just stay up, as the film is a real gem.


Channel Z – A Magnificent obsession
This is the tragic story of Jerry Harvey, who was the founder of Channel Z, renowned for showing a wide range of eclectic and otherwise unobtainable films, and being one of the first pay-to-view cable stations in America. Harvey was someone who ate, breathed and slept cinema and really championed films which had been missed or ignored by the mainstream.

The documentary is peppered with talking heads from the likes of contemporary indie-in spirit filmmakers like Jim Jarmush, Alexander Payne and Tarantino (surprise, surprise) who talk about the influence the station had over them.

Coming across as some kind of cineaste groupie, Harvey even managed to befriend a number of his idols, including such luminaries as Peckinpah and Altman before it all went horribly wrong, ultimately ending with him shooting his second wife before turning the gun on himself. The incident is only covered towards the end of the film and doesn’t really offer any real insight into the possible correlation of his obsession with cinema and that of his deteriorating mental health, but you can bet the two would have been connected.

Stuff I own on Region 1

2. Thrashin'

I assure you there are some serious films in my DVD collection. It’s just some of the trashy flicks I like aren’t always available on Region 2, such as Night of the Comet and this gem from 1986.

Thrashin' is ostensibly a Romeo and Juliet-type tale of two warring ‘tribes’ of skaters played out against the backdrop of a very 80’s neon-heavy Venice Beach. With a title track performed by Meat Loaf (somewhat at odds with the rest of the garagy, west coast punk soundtrack) this is a totally rad film with some gnarly skating to boot. It also features an early lead performance from the now well-established A-lister, Josh Brolin. I always remembered seeing the film advertised in the pages of the DC and Marvel US comics I OD’d on as a kid, but I didn’t catch it until much later, when I was probably too old to really dig it as much as I did.

Like Breakdance: The Movie (aka Breakin’), a film from the same era cashing in on the then latest craze, the plot here is pretty much secondary to the real star of the show - namely the amazing skateboarding sequences performed by real professions (a teenage Tony Hawk being one of them). It’s a film very much of it’s time but I'm always interested in soaking up stuff that was produced in an era that I was old enough to remember and quite frankly, loved.

Although I suffer from zero balance and chronically awful coordination skills which have hindered my ability to skate, I’ve always had a fascination with the look and lifestyle. Films like this and Dogtown and Z-Boys have provided a fascinating (in my mind) look into the birth and development of a once specialist hobby which now have a significant place in modern culture. Just wish I could grind dammit!

People, it’s funny!

I went to see the latest Judd Apatow comedy at the weekend. It didn’t make a lot of money in America but I read some of the reviews and it sounded promising. On a side note, I don’t know why, but I’ve recently been looking at box-office figures overseas as some kind of yardstick in judging if a film is worthy of my time. I know its ridiculous and it’s getting really annoying, but it’s always there, subconsciously in the back of my mind when I’m choosing stuff to watch.

I’m happy to report that not only was this a fantastic film, but for my money, it’s the best so far from Apatow and competes with Punch Drunk Love (although a very different role and film), as Sandler’s greatest performance. In fact, I couldn’t believe how good he was in this film. He’s playing a pretty unlikeable character here, but by infusing him with believability and pathos, there’s enough for the audience to still sympathise and relate to. It’s also interesting to note that while perhaps not identical on a personality level with the star, this is probably the closest he’s come to playing himself - further enhanced by the meta-sprinkles of having early video footage of a pre-famous Sandler at the beginning of the film and the character’s chose of film roles within the film, mirroring that of Sandlers previous output.

This is definitely a more character-driven comedy than both the star and directors previous work and that’s why it works so well. As funny as The 40-Year Old Virgin and Knocked-Up were, they always seemed to me (particular Virgin) as a series of comedy set-pieces arranged around a plot. Funny People has a well-developed and satisfying journey for its characters, and it resonates more strongly because of this. Annoyingly, this was obviously too much of a leap for an American audience to make as so far, the film has made just over $50 million at the US box office – all the more disappointing when you consider it was the big, so-called comedy ‘tent-pole’ release of the summer.

When Apatow decides to make another film, I can just imagine the studio executives pressurising him to jettison all the stuff that made Funny People work. I sincerely hope that this doesn’t happen and on the strength of his earlier successes, I hope he has enough muscle to be able to still make what he wants. Sadly, I have a funny feeling that it won’t happen that way.

Cinematic sex fix

Film can be a wonderful teacher. Through the medium we can learn all about different aspects of human nature and behaviour. As you can imagine, as a young teenager the sex part of this proved particularly intriguing to me.

There was enough proper porn to educate my friends and I during the school holidays (thanks largely to someone’s dad who possessed a Larry Flynt-esque volume of shoddy, mostly unwatchable Betamax and VHS), but those weren’t the sort of films you could borrow for home use. I watched the mainstream products to educate myself, although there were a few distractions along the way:

I remember my sister, around six at the time, walking in on the scene with Richard Dreyfus banging the maid (rather enthusiastically I may add) in Down and Out in Beverly Hills. Being in my early teens, it was still an awkward age for me to try and explain what was happening on screen, although any worries soon dissipated as my sister quickly deduced that the two were in- fact 'doing exercises' to which I wholeheartedly agreed.

My dad once recorded Rita, Sue & Bob Too for me to watch when I was 13. I don’t know if this was some kind of half-hearted attempt on his behalf to stealthfully introduce me to the old birds and bees, or maybe he just genuinely thought his son would like to see what grubby sex could look like. Whatever his intentions, it was certainly an eye-opener. I’ve actually grown to really appreciate and embrace this film (anyone who says they don’t like it is being snobby) but the disturbing image of Bob’s ass frantically bobbing up and down, mid-coitus in the front seat of his Ford Cortina, has been forever seared into my brain. This was made by the late revered British film-maker Alan Clarke and it’s still the funniest and most realistic depiction of sex I’ve seen in a film.

If there was ever a need for a remote control which could magically rewind or fast-forward events in the actual real world, it would have been particularly useful for one evening in my childhood when I settled down to watch Risky Business with my Mum present. To give you an idea of how young I was, I didn’t think to read the synopsis in the Radio Times and it was probably past my bedtime anyway. I’m not even sure my Mum knew what was on until she peered up from her newspaper about 20 minutes in to witness The Cruiser groping an semi-naked Rebecca De Mornay from behind, and then shluping her in all different positions and areas around his parent’s house, including the oak staircase.

It was one of those moments when any sign of movement on my behalf would have acknowledged the acute and overbearing embarrassment I was feeling. I think I actually held my breath for a couple of minutes before limply excusing myself. Was my Mum unaware of the torture that I was going through at that moment? - probably not. Situations like that are much more heightened when you’re at that age.

I think I was around the age of 14 when my parents (with my Mum's involvement this time) handed me a copy of an old (and very dated) 60’s sex farce called Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush they’d recorded off telly the night before. It had been a film they had watched as a young couple (shudder) and for some reason, I guess they felt that this was something I might learn from or maybe it was their way of providing some kind of anthropological snapshot of their own teenage years. Whatever they intended, the film wasn’t sexy nor enlightening. It was shit.

Through The Wire

Well, that’s it - all five series of The Wire done and dusted. A noticeable chunk of my DVD collection now houses and proudly displays these box sets, but I do feel like a part of my life has come to a close - like I’ve just dropped my firstborn off at his/her's halls of residence, having gone through the various joyous stages of fatherhood. Slightly over the top perhaps? If you’re nodding your head in agreement with this, you obviously haven’t watched a single episode of this tremendous programme.

Actually, I’m not about to wax lyrical about The Wire (too much) as there’s so many writers out there who have done this more succinctly and eloquently then I ever could. Suffice to say, this is some of the best writing that I have ever come across in any form of fiction. It’s a programme that when compared to the vast majority of contemporary Hollywood product out there, it really is impossible to believe that TV was once considered inferior to its big-screen counterpart.

Invariably, any fans you speak to will list their favourite series in this order – the best being the 4th, followed by 3, 1, 5 and 2. To put how great The Wire is into some kind of context, series 2, considered a slight departure in quality from the first one, focusing primarily on the grotty and less compelling milieu of the Baltimore docks, is still a billion times better than the greatest episode of The Bill ever produced.

That’s right, The Wire is that good. There is such a rich assortment of thoroughly fleshed-out and involving characters on display here, that you will argue and discuss for many hours with loved-ones, friends and work colleagues, who is your favourite. Gay, badass gangster Omar ranks quite high for some people, but I find it hard to single anyone out in particular, although I have a soft-spot for the tough and principled police lieutenant Cedric Daniels.

A ‘better late than never’ shout-out must go out to the BBC who are now showing all five series on a nightly basis. However, for anyone who has yet to see this programme, I would recommend the box set approach as your level of investment and reverence will be compromised by having to wait for one episode a night - you will require a much quicker fix and the means of facilitating this. My missus and I have found ourselves taking in five or six episode in one sit-in, fully allowing ourselves to be immersed in one of, if not, the greatest TV programmes ever made. Much like the compromised and jaded figure of ‘Commissioner’ Daniels at the end of series 5, I haven’t been “juking the stats” when I make this claim.

Film talk for the (i)Podern era

Here is list of all the film-based Podcasts I listen to on a regular basis. These are all made with a great deal of love, care and attention and have more than once, saved me from throwing myself under the path of an oncoming tube train during my journey to work on another wet and dreary London morning. The fact that they’re all free to download only adds to the whole beautifulness of it all.

Filmspotting
A magazine-style podcast, this is made for Chicago Public Radio by two extremely erudite and intelligent cineastes, Adam Kempenaar and Matty Robinson. These guys have got great chemistry together, Kempenaar coming off as the more restrained family man and Robinson being the single, more flamboyant of the two, not afraid to gently rib his co-host, particularly when clashing over preferred film choices. A weekly section of film-centric topics is rounded off by a ‘top 5 list’ (surely a must for all geeks).

/Film
The biggest compliment I can give this weekly podcast is it feels like being at the local pub, chatting with a bunch of my fellow geeks (if they adopted American accents) for an hour. Hosted by David Chen and his two moderators, Adam Quigley and Devindra Hardawar, this is an extension of the /Film website and usually includes a weekly guest (some unknown by the name of Kevin Smith recently). These guys chat about TV and film stuff they’ve watched that week, followed by movie news they’ve read, followed by the big film release they’ve all seen that week. Simple yet thoroughly entertaining and engrossing.

If you enjoy these guys chatting, there’s an added bonus of an after hours edition recorded after the main podcast, which in the words of Dave Chen is a “pretty much free-for-all” with everyone riffing on anything film-related they feel like.

Mondo Movie
A rare good one from the UK. This is very customary British with a slightly ramshackle feel, which only adds to the charm as two old friends (Ben Howard and Dan Auty) chat mostly about genre/exploitation films.

The Hollywood Saloon
These two guys are incredible. Put them in a room together and they could probably talk film for eternity. One podcast has run for 3 hours but don’t let that put you off, these guys are so easy to listen to that by the end, you won’t want them to finish. They started charging for their shows recently but seem to have started to post them for free again, although the amount of pleasure you get from hearing these two talk film is probably worth an admission charge.

Creative Screenwriting Magazine
This is created from the recording of a post-screening Q&A with the film’s screenwriter (director sometimes included) and is moderated by the jolly and appropriately reverential Texas-born editor of the Creative Screenwriting Magazine, Jeff Goldsworthy. Again, this is a fascinating listen with Goldsworthy gently probing the guests to give up all their knowledge of this under-appreciated art form. Topics include history/writing habits/breaking-in stories and writers block.

I still love you Mann

My (remaining) friends can attest to how much I used to bang on about Michael Mann’s 1996 crime epic Heat, when it was first released. I saw it as a wide-eyed 19-year-old and proceeded to proclaim it to be the greatest piece of cinema ever. Being a little older and wiser now, although still guilty of the occasion bout of hyperbole, I think 1999’s The Insider is probably the best of his films.

Mann’s attention to detail has always been something to behold. His films manage to have a striking, otherworldly look about them - from Francis Dolarhyde’s minimal, trippy lair in Manhunter to a smoggy, neon Los Angeles at night in Heat. This was probably the initially drew me to his films but at the same time, I’ve never felt it was a case of style over substance in Mann’s work. The realistic, hard-boiled quality of his dialogue has always played nicely against the visuals. I think his genius and what sets him aside from other film-makers is his ability to maintain an understated atmosphere amongst the stunning aesthetics. Just watch Will Graham’s prison meeting with Dr Leckter in Manhunter – a far superior film to any of the later Thomas Harris adaptations. It’s an incredibly eerie and powerful scene, yet the performances and indeed the look are very muted and ordinary. The opportunity and temptation to embellish the style here would have been too easy in the hands of a lesser film-maker, but Mann does the opposite and reins it in. The same could be said about the now famous ‘coffee house’ scene in Heat - although all the good work Al and Bobby achieved here sounds like it has been undone from what I’ve heard about Rig(s)h(i)teous Kill.

After seeing Collateral for the first (and only) time, it felt like he had lost a little of his magic touch. It resembled someone doing an interpretation of what a ‘Michael Mann’ film should look like. After an interesting premise, there just wasn’t enough of the director’s usual craftsmanship to sustain it. I did like the opening however, with Jamie Foxx’s down-at-the-heels taxi driver, lamenting his life, while making his way around downtown LA , a soulful Groove Armada song on the soundtrack. Miami Vice was an even further step down and was pretty flat and empty really, with the exception of a couple of imaginatively staged action sequences.

This brings me to Public Enemies. I must admit, probably due to the other two disappointments, I wasn’t really excited before seeing this. Thankfully I was proven wrong. It’s not a perfect film (more of that below) but it’s much more reminiscent of his earlier films. The scope and craftsmanship is up there again on screen, as is the strong dialogue and memorable (mostly male) performances. I’m still having mixed feelings about his decision to shoot on digital though. I read an interview with him recently where he spoke about originally planning to shoot on film, but ultimately deciding against it as he wanted to make the viewer “feel like they were in 1933”. It’s an interesting idea that only works intermittently. This technology is fine for a film like Collateral with its contemporary, luminous L.A night-time setting, but period films benefit from that grainy, organic texture that film delivers and which digital can’t quite fully compete with (yet). Regardless of Mann’s intensions, the end results were a little too jarring at times to fully immerse myself in that world. To be honest, I wish he would stick to film with everything he shoots.

Maybe that’s why the last two before Public Enemies haven’t worked for me. Maybe you just can’t cover the same emotion territory through the digital medium in big, meaty Hollywood productions. Imagine if Edward Hopper had the technology at that time to produce his work on Photoshop instead – a justifiable analogy I think, but one I’m sure will be met with the unison of eye-rolls from friends who read this, all of whom are now tired of hearing about my love for the Mann.

Stuff I own on Region 1

1. Night of The Comet (1984)

Purchased on ebay recently, I first caught this memorable horror/sci-fi movie years ago when it was part of the screening programme on Moviedrome. I was in love with lead actress Catherine Mary Stewart at the time, having previously fallen for her after seeing The Last Starfighter a couple of years earlier. For her first scene in this film, she’s wearing what looks like a ‘Khan’ era Starfleet uniform, while try to beat the highest score on a video game in the cinema where she works. Hot on all counts.

The film is set in Los Angeles where a comet, initially perceived as harmless, has wiped out all humankind, turning everyone into piles of red dust. A couple of girls who manage to avoid obliteration, blond cheerleader Kelli and her older, headstrong sister Regina (Stewart) set out on a search for fellow survivors. This is end-of-the-world eighties style, with its light, cheery content at odds somewhat with the subject matter. Even the zombified humans, transformed as a result of red dust poisoning, aren’t particularly threatening. The two sisters, both tooled-up to the max, even take time to indulge in an ill-fated shopping spree in a huge, deserted department store. We get the obligatory fashion and frolics montage, with jump-cuts of various hats and items of clothing being tried on and paraded around, all to Cyndi Lauper’s hit of that era, ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’.

None of the comments above are meant as a criticism though, and for such a clearly low-budgeted film, it’s well made and actually looks great. From scenes of a deserted down-town LA, shot through red-filtered lenses, to the effective image a of toy frog swimming alone in the pool of an eerily quiet suburban garden, the imagery is equally as powerful as contemporary films in this genre. The opening credit sequence, which has scenes of huge crowds gathered around in a comet-welcoming celebration, must have only been achieved by the production team going to an actual event and asking attendees to hold banners adorned with hand-drawn comet and alien imagery.

Unfortunately the film falters after the second half, failing to deliver on its intriguing premise (probably due to budgetary restrictions) and opting instead for a fairly flat and contrived escape sequence involving the sisters and Hector (a truck driver they meet and Regina’s potential love interest) rescuing two annoyingly cute children from the clutches of some mad infected scientists. It’s still definitely worth a look if you haven’t seen it however, if only for the comforting reassurance that the human desire to shop doesn’t diminish after most of the world has been snuffed out.

No Springsteen is leaving this house!

I have a genuine fondness for a number of films, which if found out, would mean having my BFI membership card taken forcefully from me, ripped up and being permanently banished from that institute or any other cinema-related venue. Here is a small selection.....

Cocktail
On the surface (like there’s anything underneath) this has all the makings of your typical glossy, eighties Hollywood melodrama. It’s essentially a shallow morality tale about an equally shallow, materialistic bartender who comes to realise there’s more to life than the pursuit of money. So what is it about this film that I love? I don’t know where to start really. Maybe it’s Bryan Brown’s hilariously amoral performance as seasoned Aussie bartender and the Cruiser’s treacherous yet lovable mentor Doug Coughlin - always spouting his sage and cynical philosophising on life (“Coughlin's Law; anything else is always something better”). Maybe it’s the amazing choreographed cocktail-making sequences, set at one point, to a Cruise-initiated bar sing-a-long to ‘Addicted to Love’, or it could be the ridiculous romantic montage sequence in Jamaica during the middle act, which actually features Cruise and his leading lady, Elizabeth Shue, on white horses, galloping down the beach, resembling nothing more than an advert for the tourist board.

This has a dismal rating of 14% on Rotten Tomatoes and it swept the board at 1988’s Golden Raspberries, but I have to say, being harsh on a film like this is akin to chastising a young child for drawing on the wallpaper - it’s pointless because ultimately, it doesn’t know any better.

The ‘Burbs
There was something about this film that really captured my imagination when I first caught it on video. I liked how it portrayed the mundane, suburban existence, where non-conformity is met with intrigue and prying neighbours. I saw it again recently and although it’s a very silly and light satire, it does have some funny moments and remains really watchable, thanks mainly to Tom Hanks and the director, Joe Dante. Dante’s career has never really reached the same heights as his peers but I was always quite fond of his films back then, particularly Explorers and Innerspace. I think they possess that Spielbergian sense of wonder, combined with a real B-movie sensibility.

The Last Boy Scout
I remember when this was first released and the awful reception it got from the critics. They really seemed to be missing the point. It didn’t help that the star Bruce Willis, was coming off Hudson Hawk at the time (a film even I can’t bring myself to defend). This is a very funny deconstruction of the buddy cop films however - a genre which was incredibly popular around that time. The very fact that it’s writing by Shane Black, the guy behind the first Lethal Weapon, itself a landmark in the genre at the time, shows that he was well aware of what he was doing with the material. I was too young to see it this on the big screen, but when I finally got round to viewing it, I wasn’t disappointed. Although I make no excuses for my love of the likes of Cocktail, this film is crying out for reappraisal.

St Elmo’s Fire
“Take me where the future lies in St Elmo’s Fireee!” I still get goose bumps when I hear that rousing theme tune. Everything about this film is pure cheese. You’ve got bad hair, bad fashion, bad music (check out Rob Lowe’s Halloween-themed saxophone gig which encapsulates all of those in one scene) and cringe-worthy dialogue (“I’m obsessed thank you very much”).
This is the quintessential eighties bratpack ensemble drama, directed by the guy who went on to make (the markedly better, but equally of-it’s-time) The Lost Boys. Also, it’s worth noting the size of star Judd Nelson's nostrils – they’re the biggest I’ve ever seen, both in the movies and real-life. They’re double the size of any normal persons. It’s been a long while since I last watched this classic, but I could probably still recite most of the dialogue. Actually, there are some things that shouldn’t be shared...

Death of the video shop

When I came across this article recently, it confirmed what I had feared for a long time - the humble video shop is finally nearing its end. It’s sad to see, but hardly surprising. Films seem to jump from the Cinema screen to retail DVD and Sky almost instantaneously these days and downloading (legally or otherwise) offers a way of viewing the latest Pixar masterpiece without making a trip outside your house (a topic for a future posting I think). I’ve even been lured into using one of the easy and stress-free on-line rental services available.

When I was growing up, there were three shops in my small town which stocked films. One was exclusively for video hire, another was a general store with a large selection and the other was the local Spar, which is now the only one which still rents films out. Spar’s video section back then was almost another shop in itself, housing hundreds of those huge, bulky VHS cases in every available space. Gradually through the years however, the stock has diminished to a point where the last time I visited, it had been relegated to a flimsy corner space, with literally a handful of DVD’s available, all mainstream studio titles.

Before the advent of digital, the video shop was a veritable treasure trove of cinematic all-sorts. Although I had much love for the big Hollywood titles on offer, I was equally enthralled by the multitude of cheap, straight-to-video genre B-movies available, with their lurid, air-brushed covers and trashy but always fun content. It also brings a smile to my face when I remember Crocodile Dundee being the most sought-after title back in the late-eighties. Seriously, that film was like gold-dust. I can still see my Dad, more than once, coming back from the video shops empty-handed, having been unable to procure a copy, much to the intense disappointment of his family. It was like he’d failed to provide for us that week or something. It was hilarious really. I mean, does anyone still remember that film now, let alone consider it a classic, worthy of a place in their all-time favourites list? My memories probably seem very quaint and whimsical now, but the local video shops really did possess a weird power over our community.

I think companies like Lovefilm offer a fantastic, alternative rental service for both the modern cineaste and any discerning film fan but they lack the unique experience that the video shop once offered. The opportunity to seek out or chance upon an unknown film, in both an intimate and tangible way, is a major loss to the young film-buffs of today - a similar grievance, I imagine, that lovers of vinyl have in the digital i-tunes age.

Look at me being all overly-nostalgic and wistful. You’d think these were the ramblings of an old man, not a sad thirty-something film geek. Perhaps I’ll console myself by watching Be Kind, Rewind again or Clerks for the 100th time.