That’s according to the tagline of the independent Brit-horror “Outpost”, directed by Steve Barker and starring the charismatic Ray Stevenson (from “Rome”). Stevenson, disappointingly sans charisma in this instance, headlines as the leader of a group of mercenaries that accompanies a ‘company representative’ on a reconnaissance mission. What this guy's looking for he won’t say (it's not hard to guess though) and it doesn’t take long for the viewer to suspect that they Eastern European bunker they end up exploring is a place where things go bump, bash and die in the night.
After 45 minutes of very little happening, the enemy is revealed; after 90 minutes, the movie’s over and you’re not sure what the point was to it all: mercenaries in and above bunker, enemy force identified, mercenaries picked off one by one (in a typical formulaic, unimaginative manner). That, as they say, is that. At least the film has downer of an ending though the aftermath is unnecessary.
“Outpost” is a cheerless horror with very little tension, and is even plain illogical at times (even for an Eastern European military undead horror). A bunker with darkened corridors is an excellent location for generating apprehension (the vastly superior “Session 9”, set in an abandoned asylum, comes to mind) but Barker doesn’t pull it off. This is a case of a workable horror concept in search of a screenplay, and is really not worth the effort. You can't shake the "seen it all before" feeling while you struggle with the "wish I were watching something else" feeling.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Travel with me to the early ‘90s, kung fu style
Somehow, the pairing of Jackie Chan and Jet Li has never appealed to me as much as the paring of, say, De Niro and Pacino (I’m referring to “Heat” here, not the forthcoming “Righteous Kill”). Yet, apparently fanboys wanted the two martial arts icons to join forces and here they are, together for the first time, in Rob Minkoff’s placid, harmless “Forbidden Kingdom”. Here is a film with such mediocre effects and far-from-dazzling wirework that it’s hard to believe that it was released in 2008, and not 1993. “Forbidden Kingdom” is a (unintended?) throwback to the cheesy, insipid slap & kick movies of the early 1990s. Watching this, I was reminded not only of “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” but also of the vastly superior ‘80s actioner “Big Trouble in Little China”. And knowing what Chan and Li are capable of, it’s hard to think of “Forbidden Kingdom” as anything but sub-par.
The story has something to do with a hero who doesn’t know he’s a hero; a drunken master; a silent monk; a white haired woman warrior with a whip; ancient immortals who take lunch breaks every 500 years; a magic staff and a Monkey King (also, embarrassingly, Jet Li). There is even a training montage where a character gets to know his inner warrior by exhibiting outer skill. And yes, someone actually says: “It has been foretold…” At first I thought that the film was conscious of its position in pop culture, but at the end I was not convinced. I suspect that all involved set out to make a film worthy of inclusion in the pantheon of martial arts movies, and failed.
The story has something to do with a hero who doesn’t know he’s a hero; a drunken master; a silent monk; a white haired woman warrior with a whip; ancient immortals who take lunch breaks every 500 years; a magic staff and a Monkey King (also, embarrassingly, Jet Li). There is even a training montage where a character gets to know his inner warrior by exhibiting outer skill. And yes, someone actually says: “It has been foretold…” At first I thought that the film was conscious of its position in pop culture, but at the end I was not convinced. I suspect that all involved set out to make a film worthy of inclusion in the pantheon of martial arts movies, and failed.
Little temple of horrors
Scott Smith’s “The Ruins”, directed by Carter Smith, is set in Mexico where a group of travellers arrive at an ancient temple and find that they cannot leave. This is what is known as survival horror, one of the horror film subgenres that require us to root for the survival of the post-adolescent protagonists. “The Ruins” takes its time drawing you in, introducing you to characters who seem little different from the types we saw in, amongst other titles, “Turistas”. Halfway through the film, however, the characters are revealed to be more than just attractive bodies when the real desperation of the situation sets in.
Scott Smith is known for his novel “A Simple Plan”, beautifully filmed by pre-webcoward Sam Raimi. “The Ruins” emphasises human psychology – how would you react to the situation that the characters find themselves in? Would you be able to do what is necessary to survive? – but it’s pure horror regardless, pitting the characters against an inescapable foe. It is not my position to tell who or what this enemy is (if you’ve seen this film’s trailer, you already know) but it turns out to be more convincing and frightening than I’d anticipated. For example: the characters are lured into the temple by a ringing cell phone, possibly their only hope of getting away from the site. The revelation of the cell phone later in the film is craftily handled; in a lesser film, it would’ve been comical but in “The Ruins” it successfully adds an additional level of anxiety for both the characters and the viewer.
All in all, “The Ruins”, a well made and predictable horror, does not come close to equalling the sheer dread and tension of Neil Marshall’s “The Descent”, but it’s still an improvement over most horror entertainment available these days. Ironically, its middle act is its strongest – the first act takes its sweet time getting started, while the third act is a bit of a seen-it-coming cop out. “The Ruins” won’t keep you awake at night though it presents a pleasant diversion from run-of-the-mill slashers and torture porn.
Scott Smith is known for his novel “A Simple Plan”, beautifully filmed by pre-webcoward Sam Raimi. “The Ruins” emphasises human psychology – how would you react to the situation that the characters find themselves in? Would you be able to do what is necessary to survive? – but it’s pure horror regardless, pitting the characters against an inescapable foe. It is not my position to tell who or what this enemy is (if you’ve seen this film’s trailer, you already know) but it turns out to be more convincing and frightening than I’d anticipated. For example: the characters are lured into the temple by a ringing cell phone, possibly their only hope of getting away from the site. The revelation of the cell phone later in the film is craftily handled; in a lesser film, it would’ve been comical but in “The Ruins” it successfully adds an additional level of anxiety for both the characters and the viewer.
All in all, “The Ruins”, a well made and predictable horror, does not come close to equalling the sheer dread and tension of Neil Marshall’s “The Descent”, but it’s still an improvement over most horror entertainment available these days. Ironically, its middle act is its strongest – the first act takes its sweet time getting started, while the third act is a bit of a seen-it-coming cop out. “The Ruins” won’t keep you awake at night though it presents a pleasant diversion from run-of-the-mill slashers and torture porn.
May you be in heaven half an hour…
… “Before the devil knows you’re dead”. This thriller from veteran director Sidney Lumet – 83 at the time of directing this feature – forces upon the viewer the kind of tension that one associates with a steel band drawing increasingly tighter around one’s heart, with expiration coming ever closer. The film’s set-up is simple, but its telling is not. In a non-linear manner, “Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead” shows us two brothers, both desperately in need of money and willing to commit a criminal act to get it. Both seem smart enough to know better but the act is committed and has consequences that will shake even the most jaded crime drama fan.
Featuring top performances from Philip Seymour Hoffman, Ethan Hawke, Marisa Tomei and Albert Finney, the film is a study of desperation and vengeance without a redeemable character in sight. The characters are well written and believable and what happens to them is perfectly plausible in the world created by the film. The film opens with a scene of release and ends with another, different type of release in a way that indicates that it couldn’t possibly have ended another way. Taut and intelligent, “Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead” is a film of unexpected power. It seldom happens that I’m reeling from the impact of a film as I did with this one. Anyone looking for a cerebral thriller need to look no further.
Postscript: the current American financial crisis (aka Depression of Doom 2008) provides an interesting frame for reading this film as more than just a thriller.
Featuring top performances from Philip Seymour Hoffman, Ethan Hawke, Marisa Tomei and Albert Finney, the film is a study of desperation and vengeance without a redeemable character in sight. The characters are well written and believable and what happens to them is perfectly plausible in the world created by the film. The film opens with a scene of release and ends with another, different type of release in a way that indicates that it couldn’t possibly have ended another way. Taut and intelligent, “Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead” is a film of unexpected power. It seldom happens that I’m reeling from the impact of a film as I did with this one. Anyone looking for a cerebral thriller need to look no further.
Postscript: the current American financial crisis (aka Depression of Doom 2008) provides an interesting frame for reading this film as more than just a thriller.
In search of happiness. And food.
Chris McCandless, the real-life protagonist of Sean Penn’s “Into the Wild”, is full of himself. Brave and foolish, he sets out to leave behind society (which is, of course, repressive, bad for you, limiting, etc we’ve heard it all before) to find himself (at least that inane phrase isn’t used in this film) and his true purpose in nature. Shortly after graduating, McCandless (played by Emile Hirsch) sets off to Alaska for a life of solitude, at least for a while, accompanied only by his favourite books (Thoreau, Jack London). En route he meets some colourful characters including Catherine Keener’s hippie, Vince Vaughn’s agriculturalist and, heartbreakingly, Hal Holbrook’s elderly Ron.
McCandless reminded me a little of Timothy Treadwell (of course McCandless doesn’t exhibit anything close to the bear-man’s psychopathology) and the story isn’t fresh but to excite matters Penn presents the film as a series of chapters, intercut with McCandless already living in Alaska. The film is anchored by a strong physical and psychological performance by Hirsch, who makes McCandless believable but not heroic. Penn effectively exploits the breathtaking Alaskan nature to contrast it with the dull urbania McCandless flees from (he’s actually fleeing from his parents, but that’s another story).
“Into the Wild” is an imperfect film (it is overlong and early on too in love with framing McCandless/Hirsch), but it is an intelligent and well crafted movie. If nothing else, it makes you want to (re)visit Walden and start growing your own potatoes
McCandless reminded me a little of Timothy Treadwell (of course McCandless doesn’t exhibit anything close to the bear-man’s psychopathology) and the story isn’t fresh but to excite matters Penn presents the film as a series of chapters, intercut with McCandless already living in Alaska. The film is anchored by a strong physical and psychological performance by Hirsch, who makes McCandless believable but not heroic. Penn effectively exploits the breathtaking Alaskan nature to contrast it with the dull urbania McCandless flees from (he’s actually fleeing from his parents, but that’s another story).
“Into the Wild” is an imperfect film (it is overlong and early on too in love with framing McCandless/Hirsch), but it is an intelligent and well crafted movie. If nothing else, it makes you want to (re)visit Walden and start growing your own potatoes
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Notes from the Netherlands
Paul Verhoeven’s “Zwartboek” (“Black Book”) is an engrossing World War II spy drama as Carice van Houten’s Jewess Rachel Stein becomes, in an attempt to survive the Nazi onslaught, the Dutch Ellis de Vries. As De Vries, she must spy for the Dutch Resistance on the local German officers, one of whom is Muntze (Sebastian Koch). “Zwartboek” turned out to be more old fashioned than I’d expected; a rather typical, well told story of wartime intrigue consisting mainly of betrayal and death. The key difference between this film and many others of its kind is its female protagonist, a woman who makes important choices and is fundamental in keeping some characters alive.
“Zwartboek” is Verhoeven's most skilful and effective thriller since his work in the early 1990s, by which I mean “Total Recall”, not “Basic Instinct”. After those films came “Showgirls” (not as bad as is generally suggested, but pretty bad nonetheless), “Starship Troopers” (a comically subversive sex ‘n’ space military soap opera) and the malicious “Hollow Man”. “Zwartboek” appears a full six years after that misfire, taking Verhoeven back to his home country, away from American studio interference.
Still, even away from American executives pounding on your door, a budget of 16 million Euros is nothing to sniff at, so Verhoeven plays it safe. The good guys are clearly good; the bad guys are often plain rotten, though they sometimes switch sides. The story (opening with that most awful of opening titles, “Inspired by True Events”) is played for entertainment. Stylistically and thematically, this is the opposite of “Der Untergang” (“Downfall”), and Verhoeven’s sure hand makes 140 minutes pass by without much lurching, even managing to work in three or four topless scenes (a Verhoeven film would not be a Verhoeven film without the obligatory, sometimes gratuitous nude scenes).
“Zwartboek” is Verhoeven's most skilful and effective thriller since his work in the early 1990s, by which I mean “Total Recall”, not “Basic Instinct”. After those films came “Showgirls” (not as bad as is generally suggested, but pretty bad nonetheless), “Starship Troopers” (a comically subversive sex ‘n’ space military soap opera) and the malicious “Hollow Man”. “Zwartboek” appears a full six years after that misfire, taking Verhoeven back to his home country, away from American studio interference.
Still, even away from American executives pounding on your door, a budget of 16 million Euros is nothing to sniff at, so Verhoeven plays it safe. The good guys are clearly good; the bad guys are often plain rotten, though they sometimes switch sides. The story (opening with that most awful of opening titles, “Inspired by True Events”) is played for entertainment. Stylistically and thematically, this is the opposite of “Der Untergang” (“Downfall”), and Verhoeven’s sure hand makes 140 minutes pass by without much lurching, even managing to work in three or four topless scenes (a Verhoeven film would not be a Verhoeven film without the obligatory, sometimes gratuitous nude scenes).
Memories
Japanese writer-director Hirokazu Kore-eda’s “After Life” presents a thought provoking setup. After the moment of your death, you arrive in what looks like an old school or office building. There you stay for a week; you must use your time there to reflect upon your life and select one single memory to take into the afterlife with you. That particular memory will be restaged, filmed and you’ll watch it in a small cinema. Then you leave the place, moving on to – something. Not hell. Maybe heaven.
“After Life” is a quiet film filled with interesting characters, some of whom participate actively in the memory selection process while others defy the ideas as whole. Unexpected relationships emerge, but not, as would be in a lesser film, a definite romantic ideal. The use of music is minimal and unobtrusive. Some of the images, such as one of the workers looking for locations in a bamboo forest and then in the city, are surprisingly mesmerising. Kore-eda manages to avoid potential pitfalls; we are not shown the filmed memories, for they are not ours to see.
Intelligent and in its way realistic, “After Life” is a metaphysical meditation from one of the proclaimed foremost figures of New Japanese Cinema.
“After Life” is a quiet film filled with interesting characters, some of whom participate actively in the memory selection process while others defy the ideas as whole. Unexpected relationships emerge, but not, as would be in a lesser film, a definite romantic ideal. The use of music is minimal and unobtrusive. Some of the images, such as one of the workers looking for locations in a bamboo forest and then in the city, are surprisingly mesmerising. Kore-eda manages to avoid potential pitfalls; we are not shown the filmed memories, for they are not ours to see.
Intelligent and in its way realistic, “After Life” is a metaphysical meditation from one of the proclaimed foremost figures of New Japanese Cinema.
The charm of Ed Wood, filmmaker
Ed Wood’s film “Plan 9 from Outer Space” may be the worst film ever made according to dozens of move resources, but having finally seen it I can set your mind at ease: it is far from the worst film ever made. The film has attained an almost mythical position in cinema history, and I can see how multiple viewings can provide great pleasures. Viewed with some critical perspective, “Plan 9”’s campiness is appealing in the way the “Thing from Oozing Swamp Beach” might be, and it is enjoyed, even valued, as a product of its time and master. To be sure, “Plan 9” is no “Citizen Kane” (Tim Burton’s “Ed Wood” features a delightful scene between Wood (Johnny Depp) and Orson Welles (Angus McFadyen) but its badness has been grossly exaggerated. Put this film next to “The Hottie and the Nottie”, or “Freddie Got Fingered”, or most Meg Ryan films and “Plan 9” still looks like the film with the most potential. In 20 years, “Plan 9” will still be part of the collective cinema consciousness, where all the others mentioned above… won’t.
“Plan 9” is about grave robbers from outer space, trouble with the sun, a dead husband and wife, actual war footage spliced between staged scenes, using Bela Lugosi’s unused footage for the film (Lugosi, a horror cinema legend, passed away before filming commenced), hubcaps to present flying saucers and dialogue so inept and so badly delivered that you cannot but help remember parts of it:
“Aliens attacked a town. Sure, it’s a small town, but one with people. People now dead!” (paraphrased).
May “Glen or Glenda” soon cross my path.
“Plan 9” is about grave robbers from outer space, trouble with the sun, a dead husband and wife, actual war footage spliced between staged scenes, using Bela Lugosi’s unused footage for the film (Lugosi, a horror cinema legend, passed away before filming commenced), hubcaps to present flying saucers and dialogue so inept and so badly delivered that you cannot but help remember parts of it:
“Aliens attacked a town. Sure, it’s a small town, but one with people. People now dead!” (paraphrased).
May “Glen or Glenda” soon cross my path.
War. What is it good for?
Deon Opperman’s “Ons vir Jou”, cowritten with Sean Else, who was partly behind the “De Lay Rey” song made famous by Bok van Blerk, is a visually spectacular chronicle of the Anglo Boer War as lived by the legendary General Koos de la Rey (played by opera celebrity Raoul Beukes) and his family, wife Nonnie (Michelle H Botha) and his two sons. After making it clear to pres. Kruger and his men that war with Britian is a bad idea, De la Rey finds himself in a conflict he did not want. Kudos to Opperman for giving us an Afrikaans hero figure who isn’t out for blood or, later, reckless vengeance. The creators of the show deserve further praise for the catchy songs and music, even giving the audience contemporary Afrikaans hits such as “Vergeet my nie meer nie” and the stirring “Ons vir Jou”. The play is well acted, features a stunning war scene and is clever in the way it manipulates its audience.
Precisely. “Ons vir Jou” has businesspeople working hard behind the scenes to put audience members in the seats, not to create great art or tell a historically accurate story. As usual, the facts shouldn’t hinder the story. The show milks audience sentiment on a variety of levels, so much so that a character’s death scene takes up a significant portion of the latter half of the production. Then there’s the one son of De la Rey’s, an overweight chap who is mostly played for laughs. It is a sad fact that the Fat Boy is an increasingly prominent part of the Afrikaans visual culture. In addition, poor Siener van Rensburg comes across, probably unintentionally, as a bit of a nutter.
The use of well established songs further reinforce the idea of “Ons vir Jou” as, first and foremost, a moneymaker. There is nothing wrong with intending for a production to be financially viable, even successful enough to turn a profit. The problem lies with its audience members who leave the show tearful, moved beyond rational thought, and who possibly will tell all their friends how breathtaking the production is without giving a second thought to its historical poetic license and its political non-impact.
Precisely. “Ons vir Jou” has businesspeople working hard behind the scenes to put audience members in the seats, not to create great art or tell a historically accurate story. As usual, the facts shouldn’t hinder the story. The show milks audience sentiment on a variety of levels, so much so that a character’s death scene takes up a significant portion of the latter half of the production. Then there’s the one son of De la Rey’s, an overweight chap who is mostly played for laughs. It is a sad fact that the Fat Boy is an increasingly prominent part of the Afrikaans visual culture. In addition, poor Siener van Rensburg comes across, probably unintentionally, as a bit of a nutter.
The use of well established songs further reinforce the idea of “Ons vir Jou” as, first and foremost, a moneymaker. There is nothing wrong with intending for a production to be financially viable, even successful enough to turn a profit. The problem lies with its audience members who leave the show tearful, moved beyond rational thought, and who possibly will tell all their friends how breathtaking the production is without giving a second thought to its historical poetic license and its political non-impact.
Badge of honour
The third season of “The Shield” is riveting and disturbing, a layered police drama with not a hero in sight. Instead, we have Vic Mackey (Michael Chiklis), leader of the Farmington precinct’s Strike Team. The series follows a general story arc involving Mackey and his men, including his number one guy Shane (Walton Goggins), which starts where the second season ended. The show gives smaller yet significant story arcs to several characters – Claudette (CCH Pounder) still looking to be promoted; Dutch (Jay Karnes) is in pursuit of a serial rapist – while each episode manages to be self-contained. As created and watched over by Shawn Ryan (whose wife stars as Mackey’s wife in the show), there is none of the glorified cop-heroism American television has been feeding audiences.
The tendency to downplay machismo for the sake of authenticity started with “Hill Street Blues” and bled into “NYPD Blue” as well as “Homicide”, but it’s in the gritty, nothing-is-for-certain world of “The Shield” that crime drama reaches its apotheosis. This violent moral morass sucks you in, takes hold of where it hurts and doesn’t let go until you’ve worked your way through the whole season. Television is seldom this harrowing and exhilarating.
Season 3 highlights include:
· Dutch crossing a psychological threshold;
· Guest directing by David Mamet and star Chiklis;
· Shocking, unexpected twists and turns in the ongoing Armenian money disaster;
· Numerous episode commentaries from key cast and crew members.
Note that only serious viewers need apply. Anyone else will be too shocked, bored or unable to follow what’s going to on to bother with this definitive cop show.
The tendency to downplay machismo for the sake of authenticity started with “Hill Street Blues” and bled into “NYPD Blue” as well as “Homicide”, but it’s in the gritty, nothing-is-for-certain world of “The Shield” that crime drama reaches its apotheosis. This violent moral morass sucks you in, takes hold of where it hurts and doesn’t let go until you’ve worked your way through the whole season. Television is seldom this harrowing and exhilarating.
Season 3 highlights include:
· Dutch crossing a psychological threshold;
· Guest directing by David Mamet and star Chiklis;
· Shocking, unexpected twists and turns in the ongoing Armenian money disaster;
· Numerous episode commentaries from key cast and crew members.
Note that only serious viewers need apply. Anyone else will be too shocked, bored or unable to follow what’s going to on to bother with this definitive cop show.
All roads
The HBO-BBC co-production “Rome” (Season 1), with solid Ciaran Hinds as Julius Caesar and Kevin McKidd as Lucius Vorenus, paints a vivid if sensational portrait of life in Rome at the time of Caesar’s rise to power. The 12-episode first season uses actual sets and CGI to bring the ancient city to life. But the characters, not the look of the show, is what made me watch this: the chance to see Caesar, Brutus, Mark Anthony, Pompey Magnus, Cato, Cicero and other key figures from Roman history orate, plan, deceive and die. Those figures are all part of the Roman elite, so the show gives us two plebs, soldiers Lucius Vorenus and Titus Pullo, who have their own narrative line that inevitably crosses with other characters’. There are historical records indicating the existence of an actual Vorenus and Pullo, but the characters in the show are pure studio fictions, forcing the men into a ‘buddy-movie’ hate-him-but-he’s-my-brother type of relationship. Indeed, it is unfortunate that many of the secondary characters are rather wooden and underwritten (as is the case with Mark Anthony – apparently, he gets his due in the second season).
With full frontal male and female nudity, a dash of lesbianism and plenty of graphic violence, this is far from the superior, civilised empire often taught in history lessons. This dirty, messy TV “Rome” is an Empire for the masses. Lavish and fast paced, it requires less patience than the superior “Deadwood” and more tolerance, from a critical perspective, of its emphasis on spectacle. All said and done, I cannot wait to get my hands on the second (and final; the show was ultimately too expensive to produce) season.
DVD extra features include episode commentaries; a shot-by-shot approach to two key scenes of the first season; and “All Roads Lead to Rome”, where, when activated, text boxes appear as an episode unfolds to clarify and elaborate upon religious, social, cultural and political life as lived in ancient Rome.
For interesting trivia about the show (spoiler warning), visit http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0384766/trivia.
With full frontal male and female nudity, a dash of lesbianism and plenty of graphic violence, this is far from the superior, civilised empire often taught in history lessons. This dirty, messy TV “Rome” is an Empire for the masses. Lavish and fast paced, it requires less patience than the superior “Deadwood” and more tolerance, from a critical perspective, of its emphasis on spectacle. All said and done, I cannot wait to get my hands on the second (and final; the show was ultimately too expensive to produce) season.
DVD extra features include episode commentaries; a shot-by-shot approach to two key scenes of the first season; and “All Roads Lead to Rome”, where, when activated, text boxes appear as an episode unfolds to clarify and elaborate upon religious, social, cultural and political life as lived in ancient Rome.
For interesting trivia about the show (spoiler warning), visit http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0384766/trivia.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
It’s a balloon. Here, I’ll show you.
I recently got the chance to watch the Afrikaans teen-romantic-comedy-with-a-moral-lesson “Bakgat!” and to be quite honest, I think that local critics were too harsh, too hasty in their unsparing damnation of yet "another vulgar, common” teen movie. Yes, but this time they swear, curse and get scatalogical in Afrikaans. Yes, parts of “Bakgat!” are common; other parts are vulgar. However, taken for what it attempts to be, “Bakgat!” is easily more accomplished than many local films.
By basing the film on the Hollywood narrative previously encountered in “She’s All That” and “American Pie” (and many, many others), writer-director Henk Pretorius must’ve known that he was walking into the jaws of the lion from a critical point of view. The movie opens with one piece of clichéd dialogue after the other. Actually, it opens with a statement about how the participating high schools, Waterkloof and Eldoraigne, supported the film’s making in the name of Afrikaans culture – make of that what you want – and then the dialogue begins, along with some typically South African rugby shots. Characters are quickly established, using stereotypes as shortcuts to tell us who to root for and who to dislike. There’s the school honey, the nerd, the rugby overlord, the dimwit girlfriends, the two guys whose aim in teen life is to score.
I liked the way the film poked fun at the snobbish Easterlings of the city and some of the film is surprisingly enjoyable (an antidote to the crime and HIV-driven films that usually get funding in South Africa) and well made. There is no attempt at any notion of realism here; “Bakgat” proceeds to tell its story in an almost exclusively all-white Pretoria, while the only gay guy in the film is played only (and embarrassingly so) for cheap laughs. Of course, the point of this film was never to be ‘realistic’, but to appropriate a global model for telling simple stories to and for a minority group.
For better and for worse, it paid off. A sequel is rumoured to be planned for a festive season release.
By basing the film on the Hollywood narrative previously encountered in “She’s All That” and “American Pie” (and many, many others), writer-director Henk Pretorius must’ve known that he was walking into the jaws of the lion from a critical point of view. The movie opens with one piece of clichéd dialogue after the other. Actually, it opens with a statement about how the participating high schools, Waterkloof and Eldoraigne, supported the film’s making in the name of Afrikaans culture – make of that what you want – and then the dialogue begins, along with some typically South African rugby shots. Characters are quickly established, using stereotypes as shortcuts to tell us who to root for and who to dislike. There’s the school honey, the nerd, the rugby overlord, the dimwit girlfriends, the two guys whose aim in teen life is to score.
I liked the way the film poked fun at the snobbish Easterlings of the city and some of the film is surprisingly enjoyable (an antidote to the crime and HIV-driven films that usually get funding in South Africa) and well made. There is no attempt at any notion of realism here; “Bakgat” proceeds to tell its story in an almost exclusively all-white Pretoria, while the only gay guy in the film is played only (and embarrassingly so) for cheap laughs. Of course, the point of this film was never to be ‘realistic’, but to appropriate a global model for telling simple stories to and for a minority group.
For better and for worse, it paid off. A sequel is rumoured to be planned for a festive season release.
Sellers
Decades after its release, the Peter Sellers-Blake Edwards comedy “The Party” has finally become part of my DVD collection. My first reaction to revisiting this classic was a realisation of how predictable and banal contemporary farces and slapstick comedies have become. Witness “The Party”, about 40 years old, a funnier comedy than most “riotous laugh-fests” (what awful hyperbole) released since.
Of course, the Ashton Kutchers of the world are no real competition for Peter Sellers, the comic giant who carved himself into film history not only in his multiple roles in Kubrick’s “Dr. Strangelove” but with his 'serious' acting turn in the same visionary director’s “Lolita”. Here, Sellers is taking it easy, and still makes another character his own: an Indian want-to-be actor who mistakenly receives an invitation to a dinner party hosted by a powerful Hollywood player.
To give away what happens in this film would be to spoil it for anyone attending for the first time. That said, let me say this: shoes float, waiters are troublesome, forced small talk is difficult for anyone and, of course, birdie num-num. There are those who will view this film as slow, dated and old; yet those critics are the ones weaned on a diet of exactly the type of comedy that I complained about earlier in this post.
Of course, the Ashton Kutchers of the world are no real competition for Peter Sellers, the comic giant who carved himself into film history not only in his multiple roles in Kubrick’s “Dr. Strangelove” but with his 'serious' acting turn in the same visionary director’s “Lolita”. Here, Sellers is taking it easy, and still makes another character his own: an Indian want-to-be actor who mistakenly receives an invitation to a dinner party hosted by a powerful Hollywood player.
To give away what happens in this film would be to spoil it for anyone attending for the first time. That said, let me say this: shoes float, waiters are troublesome, forced small talk is difficult for anyone and, of course, birdie num-num. There are those who will view this film as slow, dated and old; yet those critics are the ones weaned on a diet of exactly the type of comedy that I complained about earlier in this post.
Have broom, will travel
“Kiki’s Delivery Service” is a vintage Miyazaki coming-of-age story set in a Europe where, according to the master animator-director, “World War II never happened”. The film opens with 13-year old Kiki (voiced by Kirsten Dunst in the dubbed US release) becoming a witch. As part of her training, she has to move to another town where she has to help people out for a year. Seeing as her only real skill seems to be flying, Kiki decides to offer her assistance to a kindly baker.
There is no villain in “Kiki’s Delivery Service” and little suspense, but it’s as gorgeously animated as it was upon its initial release in 1989, and the story and characters are sweet and charming. Whimsical and surprisingly low on magic, this is a fully protagonist driven feature, with a rather odd cat thrown in for measure.
There is no villain in “Kiki’s Delivery Service” and little suspense, but it’s as gorgeously animated as it was upon its initial release in 1989, and the story and characters are sweet and charming. Whimsical and surprisingly low on magic, this is a fully protagonist driven feature, with a rather odd cat thrown in for measure.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Oil!
Paul Thomas Anderson’s “There Will Be Blood” is a superlative depiction of greed-driven insanity and insane greed. It stands alongside “No Country for Old Men” as the definitive American films of the year – all that follow will be measured against these two titles. “There Will Be Blood” presents Daniel Day-Lewis as Daniel Plainview, a man who will stop at nothing to become an oil magnate. Through the film’s running time of about 2½ hours we see how Plainview goes from utterly determined (successfully staking a claim in spite of a broken leg) to pathologically mad. Essentially, the film is about Plainview against the world, the same world he’s trying to control. He has a son, H.W., who complicates his life unexpectedly, and then there’s Eli (Paul Dano), a charismatic local lay preacher. Some of the film’s most intense scenes are between these two figures, and at the end, a reunion of sorts occurs wherein each man is finally stripped from whatever pretence and persona there had been, and Anderson delivers some of the most memorable, astonishing dialogue in a long while.
“There Will Be Blood” is long and tough but rewarding, presenting scenes of the American frontier that make it look positively apocalyptic. There is not a single scene I would cut; each is meticulously staged, superbly acted and well written. The oil-fire scene alone is worth watching the film for. The musical score by Radiohead’s Johnny Greenwood is one of the most successfully utilised scores I’ve heard in some time, perfectly underscoring the tensions on screen to near breaking point. The screenplay delves deep into the psyche of a man for whom there is no middle ground, using the camera and other characters to comment and highlight the workings of Plainview’s mind. What blessings that we should have two masterpieces (a term that I do not use lightly) so close to one another.
“There Will Be Blood” is long and tough but rewarding, presenting scenes of the American frontier that make it look positively apocalyptic. There is not a single scene I would cut; each is meticulously staged, superbly acted and well written. The oil-fire scene alone is worth watching the film for. The musical score by Radiohead’s Johnny Greenwood is one of the most successfully utilised scores I’ve heard in some time, perfectly underscoring the tensions on screen to near breaking point. The screenplay delves deep into the psyche of a man for whom there is no middle ground, using the camera and other characters to comment and highlight the workings of Plainview’s mind. What blessings that we should have two masterpieces (a term that I do not use lightly) so close to one another.
Big lizard
After much hype, viral marketing and clever secrecy by mastermind J.J. Abrams, I finally got around to watching “Cloverfield”, aka “Blair Witch Project” meets “The Host” meets “Godzilla” meets footage from 9/11. In Matt Reeves’s underwhelming film, we meet a host of characters during a farewell party for one of their members. Suddenly there’s a boom, the lights flicker, and the head of the Statue of Liberty lands in the street. We are involved in all this and ain all that follow because one of the partygoers had the good sense to keep recording events as they unfold, which means that we get QuesiCam footage of the destruction of Manhattan for almost an hour and a half.
“Cloverfield” opens with a tedious stretch (the party), delivers a few well realised, tense scenes (involving night vision and sudden death) and then ends. Thrown in is an unnecessary romance subplot. Regarding the camerawork, I must admit that, though I’ve never suffered from any motion sickness in any context, “Cloverfield”s shake, roll and twirl kinetics made even me quite nauseated. An interesting, yet ultimately failed catastrophe movie.
“Cloverfield” opens with a tedious stretch (the party), delivers a few well realised, tense scenes (involving night vision and sudden death) and then ends. Thrown in is an unnecessary romance subplot. Regarding the camerawork, I must admit that, though I’ve never suffered from any motion sickness in any context, “Cloverfield”s shake, roll and twirl kinetics made even me quite nauseated. An interesting, yet ultimately failed catastrophe movie.
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