Avengers (2012): Hollywood doing what Hollywood does best - blockbusters

 

Avengers is an entertaining, action-packed, big-budget summer blockbuster encapsulating a massive series of superhero franchises from Marvel.  I’m not generally a fan of popcorn movies, but Hollywood have pulled out all the stops here and made a genuinely likable, easy-going piece of universal entertainment.

There’s not much of a plot, it’s really all about the characters and action.  At just over two hours already, it would be impractical and a different kind of film to introduce deep emotional complexity in every character – and that’s not the purpose of this flick.  It’s all about entertaining action and great characters. 

I haven’t seen the Captain America film but I will definitely watch it now - lines like “it seems to be powered by some sort of electricity” typify his quirky old-fashioned style.  Hollywood being the booming voice of patriotic America, Avengers isn’t subtle about making a Hitler analogy of the villain, Loki, when Captain America confronts him: “You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing."  This sort of America-laying-it-on-thick sentiment perfectly suits the tone of this larger-than-life blockbuster: an export to the world from a Hollywood puffing up its chest and waving the stars and stripes.

The casting of the characters is spot on too.  Obviously Iron Man, Thor and Captain America were cast for their individual films beforehand, with the idea of a larger franchise in mind, but the newcomers are good too.  Considered one of the most attractive young women in the limelight at the moment, Scarlett Johansson gives Black Widow as much psychological mystique as sexuality – ticking the box for blockbuster eye-candy and feminist-friendly heroine.  As I’ve pointed out before, I really rate Mark Ruffalo, and his Hulk is widely accepted as having blown Eric Bana and Edward Norton’s efforts out of the water - as well as being the first to actually ‘be’ the green rage-monster through motion-capture.  Rufallo’s generally laid-back and slightly introverted demeanour (The Kids Are Alright, Shutter Island) lends itself perfectly to the Hulk’s alter-ego and galvanises the epic rage of ‘the other guy’. Tom Hiddleston provides a despicable villain in the form of demi-god Loki, brother of Thor, with wicked piercing eyes and a spitting thespian vernacular.

The main enjoyment of the film comes from the way the characters bounce of each other.  The chemistry is excruciating between certain characters and hilarious between others.  Captain America and Iron Man are quite similar in that they are both strong egos, both full of conviction.  Instead of trying to pretend they’re quite different, Joss Whedon and Zak Penn realise this and pit them against each other, creating a great conflict of personalities (which is later neatly overcome, of course).  The banter between the titan Hulk and demi-god Thor is typified by the moment Hulk punches Thor for fun.  Thor goes flying out of shot but we know he’s OK and we know it’s just a bit of tomfoolery between mighty superheroes.

One thing I didn’t get about the film is the unexplained tension between Hawkeye and Black Widow.  There’s an implied history between the two characters, although there’s no solid proof in the movie that this is romantic.  I can’t help but think that the producers tried to foster a superficial bond between these two characters in order to  generate more interest around them as they’re less well-recognised than the other heroes.

A uniquely good thing about Avengers and the rest of the recent Marvel superhero franchise is that they’re not afraid to use humour.  The relationship between the fanboy Agent Phil and Captain America (with the trading cards), the guy playing a computer game on the ship, the bit Hulk calls Loki a “puny God”, Captain America’s “Hulk: smash” line - are just a few memorable examples.  These gags are consistent and well-placed, keeping the tone of the film light despite its apocalyptic action.  A captivating mix of action, comedy, drama and sexuality is what the blockbuster audiences want, and that’s what Avengers provides.

Aesthetics-wise, while the CGI and VFX are overdone (of course they are it’s a superhero blockbuster) they aren’t utterly superfluous.  That is to say, while the film does feature gargantuan floating alien creatures snaking through the skies of Manhattan, it’s short and sweet and usually plays a part in the plot.  It’s not all guns and explosions for the sake of it; the action is well-balanced with  dialogue and  a progressing plot. 

I particularly  liked how Whedon handled the scenes in space with Loki and ‘The Other’.  They’re  done in an abstract and surreal style using close-ups and impressionistic aesthetic rather than a explicit theatrical feel.  This not only conjures a mystical atmosphere but ensures the identity of ‘The Other’ (rumoured as Thanos) is relatively obscure, thus creating excitement among speculative fans and, on a pragmatic note, means things like the final design of Thanos and his realm can remain open to alteration until the next Avengers film goes into production (which could take years).

Hunger Games (2012): don't believe all the hype, but don't give up on the franchise just yet

The Hunger Games isn’t as good as I thought it was going to be.  I had witnessed a lot of hype about it beforehand, so thought it was going to be remarkable.  It was enjoyable, but it didn’t match up to the hype in my eyes.  The box office receipts tell a different story though – the film remaining the top-grossing film worldwide for four weeks in a row.  There’s a lot to be said for word of mouth when selling a film.

I thought the visual effects were a little garish in places - particularly the scene where Katniss and Peeta are set on fire and paraded in front of a stadium of cheering fans.  The direction wasn’t particularly interesting – it was quite conservative and naturalistic despite the opportunity for a more sensational style considering the fantastical subject matter and younger target audience.  

The predicament for the director is that he had to portray acts of horrific violence, but keep it suitable for the 12A rating.  He kept it suitable for the kids, but at the expense of realistic violence.  The audience are never really shocked by the violence, but they should be, otherwise the film risks normalising such brutality instead of exposing how wrong and unnatural it is.

Gary Ross has decided not to direct the sequel and Francis Lawrence is reportedly taking his place in the director’s chair.  I am Legend shares similar elements with The Hunger Games world (survival in a dystopian future), so I’m confident Lawrence can make a successful follow up.  It could well be more visually exciting than Ross’ effort too – comparing their filmographies side by side it seems Ross fits well into more grounded dramas like Seabiscuit and Lawrence suits a more fantasy/sci-fi style (eg. Constantine).  

 

I have a couple of issues with the story too.  The parachute packages inspired an incredulous reaction from me, seeming like blatant plot devices and nothing more.  Yes, the film clearly shows they’re bought and sent (legitimately or not) by the contestants’ personal sponsors, but even at this, it seems like quite thin writing.  There are one or two things which just seem utterly implausible too: for instance, the fact that District 1’s Marvel was portrayed as a ruthless, powerful killing machine from the start but was fairly easily defeated by the somewhat underprepared pair from District 12.  I’ve never read the books, so for all I know these shortcomings could be a problem of the filmic adaptation, but much better expressed in novel form.  I’m not going to argue that books are a better storytelling medium than films, or vice versa – it’s like comparing chalk and cheese.

Despite my reservations, there are some parts to The Hunger Games which make me think that it’s not just another fantastical, coming-of-age action-drama aimed at teens and fans of the novels.  I like the issues raised about the dangers of a totalitarian state.  16 year old protagonist Katniss serves as a victim-hero who becomes disenfranchised and awakens to the inequalities of the system.  This theme is not only fashionable in film right now (eg. Dark Knight Rises, Coriolanus, etc.) but also serves as an incredibly relevant analogy (eg. the Occupy movement’s proposed reform of the global monetary system, the Arab Spring’s uprising against dictatorship and tyranny, etc).  The Hunger Games does well to express how not-so-far-fetched such a dystopian society could be.  Hopefully Catching Fire will take this theme and run with it, dealing more with the idea of active protest and revolution – and hopefully Lawrence can make it a little more exciting.

New Pages!

Check out the new blog pages Editors Picks and A-Z Archive.  Both pages just provide another way of navigating your very favourite IOAWYT content, thereby enhancing your blog-reading experience tenfold!!!

In other news, I don't think the acronym IOAWYT will ever catch on.  It's actually harder to remember than simply 'I Only Asked What You Thought'.

Moving on...

I went to see Hunger Games tonight.  Review to follow.  For now, here's a joke you've probably already heard:

Zeitgeist the Movie (2007): believe in myths and be controlled

The ideas presented in Zeitgeist: the Movie (2007) challenge the dominant ideology and are becoming increasingly more relevant nowadays.  In a week when the UK government are proposing supposed anti-terror legislation which vastly infringes on personal privacy and basic human rights, a viewing of Zeitgeist is timely and recommended.  As Allan Massie noted in his article in the Scotsman this week:

“It is bizarre that, since the European Convention on Human Rights was incorporated into our law, respect for the liberty of the individual citizen has diminished, and, as this proposed extension of state surveillance makes clear, we are all viewed with suspicion by authority.”

It seems that acts like the European Convention on Human Rights might be being used by authorities as more of a ruler to judge the extent to which they can legally reach to enforce control over populations rather than promote a culture of liberty.  This is just one example in a string of actions made by the UK government which proves their increasing tendency towards a full blown totalitarian state.  Instead of getting embroiled in the specifics of such an argument though, it might be more enlightening to step back and look at the bigger picture – this is exactly what Zeitgeist does.

Zeitgeist is essential viewing for any discerning, vigilant human being anywhere.  If you’ve always had the feeling that the whole Western, capitalist system is fundamentally wrong and unjust, but never really had the knowledge of economics, religion and politics to realise why, then this film is for you.  It starts to explain, in a simple and accessible format, the sickening corruption that is in the blood of the world’s greediest power brokers.

In ‘Part one: the greatest story ever told’ the film starts by explaining the concept of the myth.  By relating to astrology and religion, it begins to explain how humans have always used myths to describe and understand the course of nature and the world around them.  It takes Judeo-Christian faith as an example of how myths are created and used, as well as underlining the fact that they’re all based on Paganism and early astrology and, so, essentially plagiarised.

The truth according to Zeitgeist is that astrology was represented by myths and stories in order to simplify and explain the complex intergalactic movements at play and how this affected basic things like growing and harvesting crops in order to eat and stay alive.  These truthful myths were then manipulated over time into religious myths.  When you consider how much blood has been shed in the name of various gods throughout human history, it’s humbling to realise these religions are based on nothing more than an analogy of nature.  Zeitgeist explains that religious myths have always been used to control and segregate people, creating fear and war.

This brings the film into the second part, titled ‘All the World’s a Stage’.  Here the film presents the 9/11 myth as understood and promoted by the US government.  It goes on to systematically dissect the myth, explaining the inconsistencies and lies within.  The truth behind this myth is that, according to Zeitgeist, the 9/11 terrorist attacks were an elaborate and intricate plan undertaken by the most corrupt people behind the US government itself.  The aim of the plan was to create a myth so widely accepted by an outraged global public that the US would have justification for the invasion of Afghanistan and then eventually Iraq in order to cease control of oil resources and undertake an illegal war which would last for years, thus generating exponential profits for international defence contractors.  Apparently the London terrorist attacks were all for the same purpose too.  Apparently Vietnam was the same kind of war but without the oil.  Apparently the men in power have been doing this for centuries: creating myths which create a desired reaction amongst a population in order to justify some (usually morally abhorrent) action which normally results in financial gain for themselves.

It also explains that these myths are used to create futile and artificial divisions among humans in order to create a global culture of fear and thus control entire populations.  “Divide and conquer” is the motto given to this strategy of empowerment – make a population fight among itself and become the all-powerful referee.

‘Part three: Don’t Mind the Men Behind the Curtain’ goes on to explain how the corrupt, nonsensical, synthetic global financial system is the main method by which the men in power control governments and the public by a system of slavery.  I’m not exactly clued up on economics but it’s quite easy to understand that the global monetary system is fundamentally unfair.  Central banks regulate how much money is printed and loaned out into the system, and charge every single penny at interest.  There’s no reason for the interest, other than the fact that the men in charge of the whole system pocket the interest as profit and retain absolute control over governments and populations.  The dominant monetary system is a crooked invention – it is not a necessary human resource.

Part three also describes how educational systems are designed to stop people from being “too educated” and “thinking too much”.  It also explains how entertainment, drugs, alcohol and all other permutations of entertainment are meant to pacify entire populations, stop them from being too intelligent and distract them from finding out the horrible truth of how the world is really run.  By this point in the film I’m profoundly aware of Karl Marx’ statement “religion is the opiate of the masses”.  As it appears nowadays, this could be translated more relevantly to “myths are the opiate of the masses”.  It was once religious myths which were used to control people, now it’s myths of all kinds.  Myths which are created by horrific actions commissioned by the men in power and perpetuated by the media which they themselves own.

I don’t think the word Illuminati is mentioned in Zeitgeist – I don’t think it needs to be either.  This film doesn’t concentrate on the so-called Illuminati or any other secret society.  Instead it’s about myths and how they’re used to manipulate the ideologies of the people, control them and thus conserve the system of oppression and slavery that is beneficial for the elite ruling classes.  The people at the top of the system aren't some conspiratorial, secret organization though.  There is no Illuminati or lizard people.  The people in power are just products of the system - whether they were born into power (as is often the case and makes for prime fodder for conspiracy theories) or worked their way to the top, these people are just people who want to succeed and just like the rest of us.  There is a complex system of relativity at play - wealth is relative as the monetary system is invented and so the power structures are imagined.  All people are part of the same global population - differences and divisions are synthetic and learned.  To say that the system is corrupt because of those in charge is to foster a culture of 'us' and 'them', thereby creating more divisions.  Real change of the whole system relies on solidarity - to acheive that relies on the way people think and perceive the world around them.

Later on, the film suggest that “a new consciousness is emerging which sees the Earth as a single organism”.  I can forgive people for criticising this idea and dismissing it as simple and dogmatic, but I like it.  It reminds me a lot of Carl Jung’s notion of the ‘Collective Unconscious’ whereby all people are connected by an unconscious realm of thoughts and dreams.  The idea of all living things existing ‘as one’ is repeated time in time again in religion, philosophy and, now, psychology.  I think Zeitgeist’s big idea is to get us to dismiss the divisive ways of the world powers and realise that we are in this together - at the risk of sounding like a hippy.

Overall, Zeitgeist is extremely persuasive.  I was very aware of this and constantly questioned how much is speculative propaganda and how much is truth.  After a quick search on the director, Peter Joseph, I found a good interview with the man himself and he seems like an extremely intelligent, socially conscious human being.  In this interview he admits that he (and anyone else who has challenged the system throughout history) has come under a lot of pressure for his challenging ideas.  Zeitgeist is so big I’m frankly amazed he hasn’t been assassinated yet (since that’s what Zeitgeist says happens to “all the good guys” – Ghandi, John Lennon, Martin Luther King Jnr, the Kennedys, etc).

I won't be surprised if many people don't enjoy this film.  It makes you think and many people I know generally don't watch films to think, they watch films to be told. The great irony of Zeitgeist's success is that it uses a medium to spoon-feed people information to tell them that they shouldn't allow themselves to be spoon-fed information.  I'm reminded of John F Kennedy's words:

"The great enemy of the truth, is very often not the lie – deliberate, contrived and dishonest – but the myth – persistent, persuasive and unrealistic. Belief in myths allows the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought." John F Kennedy

Zeitgeist is composed mostly of pre-existing audio and video clips and Joseph states in his interview that all of the information in the film is from a source.  I tend to sway towards the viewpoint that, while an enormous amount of creative license has necessarily been used to structure these facts into a persuasive argument, Zeitgeist is more than just propaganda.  Paradoxically, you could say that Zeitgeist is a myth with a motive, just like the ones it criticises, but there’s too much logic and truth to this story for it to be classed as simply another loopy, anarchistic conspiracy theory.

What Zeitgeist doesn’t do is offer any kind of solution or alternative to the way things are.  This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, after all two hours is a good length for a feature (especially one with so much information and thought-provoking concepts to process) and there wouldn’t be enough time to feasibly undertake such a task without losing the concentration of the audience.  I realise that there are three subsequent films in the Zeitgeist series and I expect these will be more concerned with offering a theoretical framework for some sort of positive change.  I fully intend to watch and review these, relating my thoughts to this first review.

For now, I’ll sum up by saying that Zeitgeist is an incredibly influential film which deserves a lot of serious attention.  One man can’t provide a solution to fix a world riddled with corruption, but he can sure put his ideas out there and stir up debate.  The beauty of digital video is that it is such an accessible and easily-distributable medium, perfect for influencing a critical mass that is necessary to reach in order to change the way we live our lives and run the world.  I’m not totally in the know of the whole Occupy movement, but I imagine it might well represent the embodiment of a discontented mass who campaign for truth, justice, transparency and a new global monetary system.  A group who think much like Peter Joseph and seek to evolve the zeitgeist – the fundamental way we all think, live and run the world.

You can watch Zeitgeist the Movie and the rest of the series online for free or download the torrent.

Margaret (2011): stressful cinema you can do without

I watched this film a couple of weeks ago and I still haven’t written up a review for it because I haven’t been able to really bring myself to think about it again - probably because it was more of a stressful experience than sitting and enjoying a movie.  

The cast boasts Anna Paquin (of True Blood fame), Hollywood heavyweight Matt Damon, Jean Reno from Leon and Matthew Broderick.  I’ve got a real soft spot for Broderick because of Election, and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is one of my favourite films, but even the presence of the righteous dude couldn’t redeem this film for me.  Mark Ruffalo is a favourite of mine too (Shutter Island, The Kids Are Alright, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind).  Ruffalo, Damon and Broderick are scarcely in the film though.

 It’s really all about Lisa: a hormonal teenager who seeks to satisfy her insatiable desire for conflict and drama by pestering all of the people who were involved or affected by a horrific bus accident that she witnessed.  Paquin gives a powerful and convincing performance throughout so you can’t really blame her for the films failure.  You can’t simply blame the fact that the character is especially detestable either – we’ve seen anti-heroes and super villains time and time again in cinema, and they can be some of the most engrossing characters to watch.  

The film’s problem is that it focusses entirely on this high-strung, volatile, bitchy adolescent as she goes about a mundane course of day-to-day life, seeking attention and rubbing people up the wrong way.  There’s no real point to all this.  The conclusion resolves to say nothing more than “she’s probably like this because of her age and she doesn’t get along with her mum” or something.

Margaret is nothing more than a character study of a stereotypically hostile, obnoxious teenager.  There’s no clear controlling idea, it wallows it ambiguity and the attempts to reference Shakespeare are laughably pretentious.  It’s too long, entirely stressful to sit through and has no real payoff at the end.

'Official' TV appearance #3

I made my third official TV appearance on Friday night's Moviejuice.  Check it out (available for a month).  I say 'official' because when I was about 6 years old in primary school, the headmaster took our class on a trip to visit Hercules the bear - a trained bear who had appeared in film and TV as a career.  When we visited him there was a Japanese TV crew doing a feature on him, so I probably unwittingly appeared on Japanese TV about 16 years ago, clapping a bear, eyes wide with wonder and the unrelenting enthusiasm of youth.  Come to think of it, I don't remember signing a release...

Anyway, this 'official' TV appearance was to do a mini review on Hunky Dory, which I've also written up a review for here.  The second time I said a bit about Casablanca - a more substantial list of my thoughts on this incredible film can be read here.  My first appreance was to do a mini review of W.E. which warranted a measly one star in my eyes - my full review can be read here.

Here's a still from the show, I'll see if I can find a picture of me with Hercules too...

Hunky Dory (2011): don't let the critics put you off

People have complained that this film is too formulaic, it’s too glossy and sugar-coated and that it’s so steeped in saccharine sentimentality that it will make the overpriced, syrupy Coke that you bought from the multiplex foyer seem sour and flat. 

While there is definitely truth in the above statement, I think enjoyment of this (and any) film depends on your attitude.  If you go into this film expecting to see some gritty socio-political drama focussing on the oppression of Welsh mining classes, you will be sorely disappointed. You will come out complaining about how populist it is, how it’s so conventionally structured and emotionally sensationalist etc, etc.

If you look at the poster, however, it looks like this:

If you watch the trailer, it looks like this:

If you look at the name it looks like this:

Hunky Dory.

The Collins Dictionary definition is:

Hunky Dory (adj.) informal very satisfactory, fine.

The poster is a lovely snapshot of a group of idyllic young friends having fun the blistering summer of 1976.  It’s all orange and glowing.  The trailer gives a taste of how packed the film is with poppy love songs of the era, how predictable the premise makes the plot, how recognizable the angsty teenage characters are, how petty the conflicts seem in this hazy summer utopia of a bygone Britain and how indulgently reminiscent it is.

The signs are there - everything about the design screams out feel-good mainstream movie.    It is unashamedly populist, unashamedly sensational and is obviously going to be as conventional as any piece of popular cinema.  There’s nothing subtle about the way the film advertises this sense of style.

To know all this, watch the film then criticize it for the glaringly obvious is lazy criticism, at best.  Don’t go and see the film if you know you’re going to suffer an adverse reaction to the sheer amount of light-heartedness going on.  That’s like going into a screening of Shrek with your arms folded for the entire movie then coming out in a huff saying to your bemused/horrified children “the guy’s an ogre but not once did I see a man’s skin being peeled off while he was still alive.”

For those more willing to accept this film for what it so blatantly is, I’d say it’s an easy, feel-good film with and great 70’s soundtrack (from the likes of Bowie and ELO) and superb Welsh accents throughout.  A coming-of-age film set in a specific place and moment in British history, it shares an obvious affinity to Ricky Gervais and Stephen Mechant’s Cemetery Junction as well as Billy Elliot (a couple of the producers made this film too). 

There are a lot of characters so the attempt to squeeze in all of their individual stories is overly ambitious, but the cast are great.  Minnie Driver is easily lovable and I get the feeling you’ll be seeing a lot more of Aneurin Barnard’s face in the future.  The ending is a little bit vague and they try and remedy this by giving a ‘where are they now’ sequence during the end credits – which is a bit half-baked (no reference to the recreational activities of the time intended).

Overall, a likeable film with some nice messages (namely Karl Marx’s sentiment “don't let the bastards grind you down”) and a well-polished style that makes for easy watching.

Vincent Wants to Sea (2011) review from GFF 2012

Here's my short review for Vincent Wants to Sea, which I wrote for STV's Entertainment website after seeing it on the last day of the Glasgow Film Festival 2012:

http://entertainment.stv.tv/film/299184-vincent-wants-to-sea-provides-some-guilty-laughs-at-glasgow-film-festival/

I didn't really think much of it.  I felt as though they were exploiting characters who had mental health problems for the sake of comedy alone, whilst trying to hide behind a pretense of emotional sensitivity.  I get the whole "oh, it's fine, people with behavioural, social and mental disorders are entitled to be funny protagonists in films too, don't be so politically correct, that's worse than not representing them at all!" argument, but this was an almost slapstick comedy that set out to make people laugh, not a poignant social drama that set out to break down prejudice and change people's attitudes.

The Descendants (2011): a typically Payne-ful but forgettable flick.

Alexander Payne, best known for his low-key life-crisis films Sideways and About Schmidt, stays in his comfort zone with this film but opts for a slightly more family-friendly style.

The Descendants follows the story of a middle-aged Hawaiian lawyer Matt (George Clooney) whose wife has been knocked into a coma and will eventually die.  As he struggles to bring his somewhat dysfunctional family together to deal with her impending death, he finds out his wife was cheating on him.  The backdrop to this is an on-going legal process in which his wider family are trying to agree on whether to sell a sizeable and beautiful piece of Hawaiian land inherited from royal ancestry.

This film delivers a sentimental human drama whilst avoiding clichés.  The trailer and opening sequence states this as the premise: “my friends think that just because we live in Hawaii, we live in paradise.  Are they insane?  How can they possibly think our families are less screwed-up, our heartaches less painful?” etc.  The picture does seem a little too sugar coated though.  Its saccharine idealism overpowers the raw edge and potency which typifies Payne’s earlier films, such as Election. 

I get the feeling that even though I can relate to the characters on an emotional level, there’s still an irreconcilable gulf between me and the Hawaiian upper-classes on a material level.  I subconsciously dismiss the film as self-contained escapist cinema, making it as forgettable as it is enjoyable.  It's one of those films where you feel like you've really enjoyed the experience, but can't remember much of it afterwards.

It still retains Payne’s unique essence, however.  His originality, off-beat humour, lovably flawed characters, understated action and witty dialogue. The story world is very rich, but delivered in an easily digestible plot.  Seeing the seemingly emotionally inarticulate protagonist deal with the complex social pressures bearing down on him is sometimes hilarious, sometimes heartbreaking, but always entertaining.  While not as cutting as some of his earlier films The Descendants adds another refreshingly frank and plausible feature to Payne’s consistently commendable filmography.

W.E. (2011): pretty, awful.

There have been a lot of mixed reactions to this film.  There’s a reason for that: it’s both good and bad.  I didn’t enjoy it but - staying away from the obvious tendency to judge this film based solely on the fact it’s Madonna who’s directed/co-wrote it - there are some diamonds in the (very) rough.

The film tries to take two storylines which are set in completely different times and places, and merge them into one film.  One of these plots are really good, the other really bad.  The good one is the story of Edward VIII who abdicated from his place on the throne in order to marry a commoner, Wallis Simpson.  The bad one is the story of an ordinary New York woman who’s in the process of leaving an abusive relationship.  The second story is trashy, melodramatic pulp.  Any relation between these two storylines is contrived and every time it cuts between the two, it feels very awkward, forced, meaningless and confusing.

It’s a real shame, because the story of the Edward VIII is an extremely interesting one.  There’s so much there to write about: his controversial lifestyle, marriage to Wallis Simpson, abdication, relationship with George VI and the rest of the royal family – not to mention his alleged Nazi sympathies and friendship with Adolf Hitler!  As a straight historical drama, this story would be truly riveting and I personally think it deserves a big budget treatment.  It could even do well as a glossy romantic drama or a gritty political drama – or a mixture of both.

I do appreciate that Madge has tried to tell this story (which has been done in film and TV before) from an alternative perspective: through the eyes of Wallis Simpson.  This is a credible idea but the film doesn’t focus enough on it.  Instead, it’s needlessly confused by a boring, ambiguous plot featuring a deluded and emotionally erratic protagonist nobody can relate to.

The film is occasionally historically inaccurate and utterly bizarre in places.  There is a point where a news reporter states that Edward is succeeding King George III, when it is in fact King George V (the former died more than a century before).  There are also several absurdities and moments of sheer bad taste, most notably a scene where Edward and Wallis are popping pills at a party as they dance to the Sex Pistols in the 1930s!  The fact Madonna chose the song 'Pretty Vacant' is probably more fitting than she'll realise.  There is a consistent stream of these absurdities which cause serious detriment to the film’s tone and coherency – as if it wasn’t already hard enough to understand.

There is no conclusion to this film either.  By the end nothing is resolved, everything becomes wholly ambiguous and no explanation is given as to the meaning or core purpose of the film.  Just before the credits role, as the camera pans up from nothingness to yet more nothingness, you’re left thinking “what was the point in all of that?”

Credit where credit’s due though: the film has some nice cinematography.  The fashion and costume design is great too.  It’s visually very good and you can tell there are some people working on this film who know what they’re doing, but it’s all wasted on a rotten script.  The film seems to concentrate on fashion, materialism, aesthetics and stylistic elements more than telling a compelling story.  It’s just superficial.

For me, the bad outweighs the good, and W.E. appears as nothing more than an opportunistic derivative of a sub-plot from the King’s Speech, with potential that would never be realised here.  Madonna’s film is brash and contrived at best, random and pointless at worst.

Coriolanus (2011): violent, engrossing and relevant.

Shakespeare isn’t Shakespeare without Shakespearean language.  It might be difficult to understand exactly what the dialogue is during parts of Coriolanus, but there’s no difficulty following the meaning.  The action, the direction and some powerful performances – most notably from Ralph Fiennes and Vanessa Redgrave – carry the film and more than compensate for the language barriers.  Some people walked out about halfway through but the climactic third act made it well worth the perseverance - especially Redgrave’s moving monologue as the formidable matriarch Volumnia.

Gerard Butler was pretty forgettable in this.  Whether that’s because he isn’t exactly of thespian discipline or because his character isn’t particularly pronounced in this play, is up to you to decide. Perhaps he and Jessica Chastain are nothing more than a bit of totty to sell the film?  Perhaps that’s just a bit cynical.

James Nesbitt added an interesting, somewhat unexpected dynamic to the play with his enigmatic nuances of jest and malice.  Also worth a mention was the little-known Dragan Micanovic who played a minor character, Titus, but delivered a couple of pivotal lines with engrossing presence.

The real star of the show is obviously Shakespeare.  His poetic prose courses through your mind and adds fuel to the fires of his drama.  His characters are bold and consistent, truly agents of their own destinies.  The subject matter resonates with political allegory and the film’s release is timely and relevant.  The play set in a present day context highlights the tribal social system which still dominates our affairs.  The story also works to express the futility of war.

Fiennes has done well to translate Coriolanus from the stage to the screen and he hasn’t stretched it too far so as to alienate it from the original text.  Stylistically, the film is quite gritty.  The focus is mostly on the actors, their eyes, their expressions and their delivering of lines, but there are a few purely cinematic moments (fight scenes in particular) which justify the adaptation to the screen.  There are a couple of truly violent moments in the film which blast the cobwebs off the old play and hook the modern, desensitized audience into the story.

Coriolanus is a tense and violent political wartime thriller which makes Shakespeare not only accessible but utterly captivating.  A credible directorial debut from one of the industry’s finest working actors.

The Tree of Life (2011): prophetic, symbolic and magnificent.

The Tree of Life starts something like a fragmented family drama.  It soon moves onto an incredible sequence which is almost like an abstract portrayal of the history of the universe, narrowing down to a history of the Earth.  Malick takes all the many patterns of life and existence– from microbiotic organisms to interstellar structures – and creates the most majestic collage. (I couldn’t help being reminded of that sequence at the end of Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey.)

The film evolves to focus on the story of Jack, son of a God-fearing American couple.  It follows his journey from birth through childhood as he grows to makes sense of the world and struggles with his complicated adolescent emotions.  The main plot follows Jack and his family, but the film remains universally relatable as it encompasses truly vast themes: life, death, love, hate, childhood, adulthood, parenthood, god, religion, nature, man, gender, sexuality, guilt, fear, shame, happiness, forgiveness, sacrifice…the list goes on.

Nearer the end it becomes highly symbolic, most notably repeating representations of doorways, passageways, bridges, circles, planets, suns, stars, waves, water, trees, hands, the sky and other loaded imagery which will inspire a complex of interpretations.

Ultimately, The Tree of Life is wholly philosophical and its messages are prophetic, discursive and intuitive.  The juxtaposition of the greatest and smallest pieces of the universe gives the human drama a context that is humbling to say the least.  Malick incredibly manages to underline the relative insignificance of man, whilst presenting an emotive human story.  Malick has created an avant-garde masterpiece with mainstream appeal.

Drive (2011): Tarantino would be proud

Nicolas Winding Refn has obviously been influenced a lot by Tarantino.  I think this not just because of the intermittent scenes of graphic violence, but because of the use of a widescreen aspect ratio, the long shots, a mostly still frame and slow cutting.  This visual stillness and the introverted calm of Ryan Gosling’s character provide a disquieting sobriety which balances out the occasional bit of mutilation.  Drive handles some of the most disturbing portrayals of cold-blooded murder in cinematic history with undeniably cool style.  I was immediately reminded of Pulp Fiction and Resevoir Dogs mostly; but the film could be paying tribute to any one of Tarantino’s twisted takes on gangster drama.

An 80s-esque electro soundtrack mixed with the neon-pink titles and cityscapes make this film cry out to be sat next to Tarantino’s filmography as well as classic gangster dramas like Scarface.  Like Tony Montana, Gosling’s driver starts the film as a nobody.  Unlike Pacino’s egomaniacal anti-hero, however, Drive’s protagonist remains a nobody.  The main song in the soundtrack, A Real Hero by College, sums up the driver’s story as it plays over an unsurprisingly down ending with the lyrics “you’ve proved to be a real human being and a real hero” repeating over and over.

Gosling, along with Bryan Cranston, Albert Brooks and Ron Perlman provide captivating characters to drive along a fairly minimal plot.  As much happens off-screen as it does on-screen in this film and that really allows the audience to invest their own imagination into the film to fill in the gaps; making for a more rewarding viewing experience, in my opinion.  A very solid effort by director Winding Refn, Drive is an intriguing, minimalist crime drama that is satisfyingly sure of its genre and cinematic influences.

The Notebook (2004): writing the textbook for the romance genre.

Well, I did it.  I took my masculinity to the next level.  I watched The Notebook.  And I liked it.

Many of my female friends have cited it as ‘the film they’ve cried the most at’ over the years.  Some of my more honest male friends have said the same, only in fewer words.  Something like “really sad”, usually.

It is really sad, because it was designed to be.  Every aspect of the film was designed to tug on your heartstrings at strategic points in the story.  It’s this formulaic nature that is the film’s most crowning achievement.

The story follows a very classical design, what scriptwriting guru Robert McKee calls the “Archplot”.  It features causal and linear change, a closed ending, external conflicts and protagonists who actively pursue their destinies.  The Notebook is undeniably of the romance genre and has exactly what you would expect from the genre: boy meets girl, boy and girl fall in love, boy loses girl and so on.  The picturesque cinematography and dreamy orchestration immediately scream at the audience: “this is a conventional romantic drama”.  The casting directors have chosen conventionally attractive male and female leads: the gorgeous Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling.   The overall design is cohesive, coherent and pleasing.

Despite all of these very apparent and deliberate generic traits, enjoyment of the film is not hindered in the slightest.  In fact this conventionality is the very trait that makes the film so enjoyable.

It’s all about balance: too much generic traits and the film is plagued by cliché and contrivance; not enough conventionality and the film becomes too incoherent to be enjoyable.  The Notebook strikes these balances perfectly in all aspects of the film.  It is expressionistic at times, naturalistic at others.  Its glowing romanticism avoids saccharinity by measured moments of dramatic realism.  Its sadness is balanced by a sense of simple optimism.  The soundtrack is overtly emotive, but used selectively.

As well as all of these technical elements, the story also does well to avoid laborious mediocrity in a genre notorious for it.  For example, one aspect of the story is that Allie’s parents are opposed to her relationship with Noah.  Just as you think “that’s all a bit Romeo and Juliet”, the mother character is given a new dimension as a complex subplot is revealed, her motivations change and everything feels more real than an archetypal Shakespearean romance.  The Notebook consistently sits on the sweet spot in the tension between generic and unique.

When a film can be described as generic yet original, that’s when it can be described as a textbook example of its genre.  This is Hollywood filmmaking at its finest: when films are designed to provoke a certain kind of reaction and achieve this goal with devastating accuracy, whilst remaining effortlessly enjoyable.

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Jack Goes Boating (2010)

Yesterday was the UK release date for Philip Seymour Hoffman's first directorial effort Jack Goes Boating.  So I popped into my local independent cinema to give it a watch (£4 a ticket on a Friday afternoon, why not?).  It got me thinking and that got me writing.  Here's what I thought.

Right from the start the world is beautified by that simplistic aesthetic so typical of independent cinema.  The framing is mostly quite tight and the visual palette is consistently minimalist, leaving room for the audience to concentrate on the complex characters and themes of the film.  Perhaps the visual aspect of the film was necessarily rendered minimalist due to budget constraints, or maybe as an effort to unashamedly embrace the indie ‘look’ – either way it looks great and, more importantly, allows for a sense of clarity which is a perfect atmosphere in which to propagate some of the big ideas that the film explores.  And the film discusses one of the biggest issues: love.  It does so modestly, almost unintentionally, though, concentrating more on character development than making any grand philosophical statements.

The film achieves so much through the undeniable human charm of its four central characters.  Philip Seymour Hoffman is the incredibly enigmatic protagonist, Jack.  He’s quiet, socially-awkward and lacks common sense but is occasionally profound and deeply emotional.  Clyde (John Oritz) is his friend, work mate and mentor.  Clyde and his long term girlfriend Lucy (Daphne Rubin-Vega) are trying to set Jack up with Lucy’s colleague Connie (Amy Ryan).

Clyde’s own relationship is falling apart, however.  The cracks are beginning to show under the strains of previous affairs and Clyde soldiers on, insisting that it’s just one of the natural burdens of being in a long-term relationship.  Clyde tries to teach Jack about love as he struggles with his own jealousy and insecurity and Lucy struggles with her lust and infidelity.  Ironically, it turns out Jack is the one with the best approach to love and life: untainted simplicity and an enduring optimism (or “good vibe” as Jack would say quietly growing his dreadlocks as he listens to reggae on his Walkman).  The last shot of the film effectively sums up Clyde’s realisation of this irony as he stands jaded and alone, watching Jack and Connie walk off in the simple happiness of each other’s company.  There are several of these poignant moments in the film that are loaded with dramatic meaning and subtext even though the scene is almost void of any dialogue – reminding the audience that the story was originally conceived for the stage by writer Robert Glaudini.

One of the most interesting and prevalent themes in the film is perception.  It discusses the way we see things and the way things actually are.  Again, the choice of characters is absolutely astounding as it allows for a well-illustrated exploration of this theme.  The film makes a stark contrast between Jack and Connie’s simple optimism (not naïve ignorance) and Clyde and Lucy’s defeatist, cynical realism/pessimism.  The film favours Jack’s integrity in his slow and wary but ultimately positive outlook compared to Clyde’s self-deprecating acceptance of a sub-standard relationship.  This theme of perception is manifested as a visual metaphor throughout the film: Clyde tells Jack to picture success in his head in order to achieve it when he’s teaching him to swim.  Jack starts to use this visualization technique in other enterprises (learning to cook for Connie, for example), but Clyde fails to heed his own advice, constantly swimming against the current of his own denial.  The use of this visual metaphor is a nice touch by first time director Hoffman: it isn’t overstated and nicely concretes the idea of perception within the viewer’s mind.

In criticism, the film verges on the side of cliché fairly often.  There are some overly contrived lines, most notably when Jack’s evening with Connie doesn’t go to plan, he smashes up the apartment, locks himself in the bathroom and Clyde reassures him: “we can get by this…everything is ruined but we can get by this.”  This one line pretty much sums up the whole point of the film: coming to terms with the tension between enduring dysfunctional relationships and fruitlessly chasing an unobtainable ideal.  I’d imagine that kind of melodramatic, on-the-nose dialogue would work perfectly in the theatre, but it doesn’t translate well onto film.  Some things are better left unsaid.

When Fleet Foxes’ White Winter Hymnal started playing it occurred to me that the producers were trying very hard to stick to textbook indie style (which isn’t really surprising considering it’s the same guys who made Little Miss Sunshine and The Savages).  The soundtrack seemed to be doing little more than borrowing a sense of style rather than adding significant meaning and, at times, the music was either redundant or jarring.

Amy Ryan’s is one of the weaker performances in the film, in my opinion, making Connie no more than a female counterpart of the lead at times and cartoonish at others.  I think the character is good though - perhaps Ryan would’ve done her justice if the producers had focussed more of the film’s attention on Connie.

The film takes a look at the nature of love in modern relationships by comparing its starkly contrasted characters and their perception of love.  There are a couple of moments in the film that verge uncomfortably close to the cliché and contrived, but not enough to detract from the overall value of the film.  The film contains some truth and insights that will resonate amongst many of the audience members.

Overall, a well-crafted and relatable film that allows audiences to invest in its superb characters and reflect on its meanings.  At 89 minutes it’s easy to digest and easy to enjoy.  It’s a visually pleasing piece of textbook independent cinema that Philip Seymour Hoffman should be proud to call his directorial debut.

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