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Mr. Holmes (2015)
Lovely, lovely film-making.
I watched this at Brighton Marina, mid-afternoon, on a weekday. The first fifteen minutes were crammed full of advertisements for, among other things, Coca-Cola, played at ear-splitting volume. Luckily, these adverts were the last mindless part, but, at 41 years old, I was the youngest in the cinema by a good ten years. The crash-bang-wallop of the badly-targeted advertising gave way to a sublime piece of work, wonderfully shot, beautifully acted, and very meditative. I came out thinking this work had shown the people who created "Birdman," how to exploit a central character for screen presence while weaving a coherent, interesting narrative around them. Admittedly, Birdman was a more nihilistic work, and it didn't come from an original book, but thematic coherence is not necessarily a given, simply because a film was previously a book.
Hang on. Beautifully-shot, slow-paced film playing out to a cinema of oldies. A whole cross section of society remembers Merchant Ivory and shudders. "You mean to say," they ask, "it was dull, middle class, and all to do with relationships?" Another subsection says, "So it was thought-provoking?" and, in a sense, it was neither. "Not thought provoking?" splutters our second group. "What do you mean?" If I had to come up with a word, I'd say it was "spirit-provoking." Its point was not to demonstrate something through the telling of a story but to tell a story. On the way, it generates reflections on many, many issues, ranging from child-rearing in post-War Great Britain to the effect and utility of white lies, yet it shares Birdman's taste for the transcendental ending.
The film could have benefited from being twenty to thirty minutes longer, exploring the Laura Linney character just a little more, or even dwelling with more confidence on any part of the story it chose. But our critical faculties have become jaded. As with music, we expect it all from our films, rather than letting them be what they are. There is a point where Linney's reactions suddenly seem out-of-character, where the momentum of her growing frustration is suddenly replaced by the sort of smiling-countenanced acquiescence which made me yearn to know more about how she had developed her thinking to that level. "That," I thought, "would have been a great addition," and on reflection, might even have livened up what is a very quiet first half. Quiet here, though, is not to be confused with dull. It was delightful to see many modern tenets of familial psychology being proved to have existed in the 1940s. Also, critics who call it 'quiet' ought to remember how the quiet and peace of post-war life must have been sheer, welcome joy. The film's subtle evocation of the difference is underlined with the Japan sequences. I left not quite convinced Roger had been using his original accent, but as filmic sins go, it wasn't particularly terrible.
I said at the start of the review, the adverts were the last mindless thing about the film. Yet it embraces a higher mindlessness. From the East Sussex countryside, to the very gentle stories and sub-stories, this is a lyrical piece that sticks a civilised two fingers up at the crash-bang-wallop or hi-energy dull hyperbole of most contemporary film making. You are guaranteed to emerge contemplating life and death, and with a significantly new take on Holmes.
The one thing I would say is that contemporary viewers may find some of the motivations not terribly twenty-first century - for example, the idea of a wife being barred from a joint account because she had behaved in a certain way might seem odd, and Sherlock himself has neuroses which aren't quite consistent with a cold, analytical character. But people are not computerised, and the complexity only adds to the charm. As I say, this is a film that transcends beta-wave criticism, and is best viewed as if you were popping in to observe politely these individuals' stories. Superb fare.
Cinderella (2015)
Ashes to Ashes, Cinders to...
Every so often there comes along a 'U' rated film one must see. These 'U' films, I am quite sure, will be found to have had an inordinate effect on developing the language of the motion picture. This is not one of them. It doesn't deserve very much more than the minimum specified verbiage.
The good thing about this film is that hideous glass slipper is photographed so it reflects light in a really attractive way. The bad thing about this film is, you, the viewer, are never allowed to settle and develop your own way of making sense of the film - essential for children of our generation. Whether today's children think a more studied coolness and efficient, regularised, apportioned mechanisation is better is another thing - almost. You still have to give people fun, and this rather dull little flick leaves nothing for people to grasp who aren't addicted to expressing on the surface of the joke how funny the author finds the actual joke. Helena Bonham-Carter does her best to give this the kiss of life some of the cast and crew's career will no doubt have deserved despite, but she is there and gone so quickly, it's not in the least bit worth it. Many of the lines actually hurt.
The curious thing about this film is the way it does her name, but not the slippers. The controversy of fur/glass may not look fruitful at first, but the challenge surely should have been how to work-in existing details of "story variance," rather than reach straight out for a very heavily-laid-on joke about fifteen not-very-engaged minutes into this film. It's a shame. This version was ill-paced, and didn't know its coach from its pumpkin.
Noah (2014)
an anagram of Noah is "Ah, No!"
not promising. It looks as if it's going to be something quite clever, but by the time it's imported the centrepiece of a race of deep-talking monsters made of stone, you know something is afoot. Anything mildly interesting is given in exposition, so the writers can concentrate on anything banal, fantastical, tensionless, or pretentious, and so the film it should have been is lost forever. Even Ray Winstone can't bear to get out of first gear for his role, and Russell Crowe does what he can to wreak moments of great pathos (where he welcomes critters into the ark, for example). The chief question associated with this film is, however, which fourth-former wrote it, and has he also remembered to do his maths prep?
Since I wrote this review, it's been brought to my attention that the deep-talking monsters are the Nephilim, but that doesn't change my objections. They're done cheaply and badly, in that case, because, as has been noted, it is "Transformers," all over again. I've read reviews which say the film portrays deep moments of spiritual experience, and that is true. It does. Noah on the ship comes to a moment where he and God exchange views on the flood, and God calls off the rain as soon as Noah says a particularly important line - and the acting at that moment is terrific. My point is not that this is full of fantasy. My point is not even that a so-called 'uplifting' story is taken and turned dark. My point is this film is cynical. It has been put together by people who are pleased to have been left in the position of being able to express themselves through film, and as a result, it is flippant with its audience, crammed full of learning it doesn't understand and can't process, and so ruinously bad, even its stars can't find any way to play off each other. Russell Crowe acts well, yes, but in a vacuum. There are touches of good acting from Emma Watson, but Jennifer Connelly is given so many head-shots (count the head-shots in the entire movie if you want to know what bad direction is) you're bored of her, and don't sympathise with her dilemma. You don't sympathise with anyone's dilemma in this film. Not the cinema who show it, not the people who made it, not their desperate intentions. Only your fellow audience members. So there we are. This film does God's job, by default, and brings people together into a state whereby they can sympathise just that little more with their fellow cinemagoer and money-spender.
Gran Torino (2008)
Yup. I liked this.
This film won't please the hardened critics who reduce everything to its constituent parts and find themselves pleased with themselves for spotting flaws. In places, the acting is a little wooden, even if they are aiming for that sort of feel to it as the boy goes through his rites of passage. You know what, though? Let the armchair critics have their fill.
They will tell you the symbolism is heavy, the dialogue not appropriate for 'down in the hood' kids, and the gang's main obsession during the movie a little bit flimsy. Which shows how unimaginative many critics can be. "Oh, that's not realistic. Couldn't happen." Yeah, and the earth's flat.
When people used to go to the theatre, they didn't go for a true representation of life - they went for something called catharsis, which many of you will already understand as a concept, so I won't labour it here. Romeo and Juliet is a deeply flawed piece from an ultra-realistic point of view. Othello happens in the famous 'dual time scale' in which the action takes place simultaneously over three weeks and two and a half days or something 'terrible' like that.
Yeah, great, thanks, guys. Let the armchair critics have their fill, as I say above. Those of us who are pleased to number Mr Eastwood among the citizens of our planet will have no difficulty in empathising with the central character and the family next door. Eventually. As a character drama, this is brilliant - bettered only by the cathartic elements. I won't say any more, only to say that two hours passed in about ten minutes.
I bang on about this a lot, but you know, people are too judgmental when it comes to films. They condemn something out of hand for minor flaws and bits they don't like they automatically assume are objective representations of the flaws of a work. It's amazing how, given the choice to think for themselves (out of the educational establishment, for example), many people find themselves to be perfect critics all the time.In any story you're going to drift in and out of it, and empathise more with some parts than others - even prefer bits to other bits.
In the end, Gran Torino's strength is in drawing from the compliant, empathetic audience, a welter of emotions and reflections which it then addresses in an exceedingly interesting denouement. Gran Torino is a film for the intelligent viewer, definitely not the Saturday night beerfest, and by the end of the piece, you really feel you have come to know and love Clint's character, and the lad he cares for. Would I watch it again? What a silly question.
Moloch (1999)
Magic, once you work it out.
Honestly, I don't know what all the fuss is about when people say this is a boring and pretentious film. Yes, this is an art-house flick. It's beautiful purpose is to make you think in many different ways and about many different aspects of Nazism; for instance, look how the throng assembles like one of Rembrandt's paintings of the ruling council when 'Adi' slumps into the chair. A very telling reference out - but this film doesn't restrict its references to 'highbrow' themes. In its stylised portrayal of Goebbels and Bormann it manages to suggest the stereotypes of American cinema, which is meant to generate insights into how to view this centre of evil. As the synopsis says, Hitler et al have come to Berchtesgaden for R & R, right? Not much fun, is it? At the centre of this empire, there is simply a void of yes-men who cannot relax in each other's company, who cannot even break out the wine until der Fuhrer has gone to bed, and who for whom every day is an exercise in the most intense nervousness *with no way out except through der Fuhrer's whimsical violent rage.* This movie is one of the driest I've come across. If Mel Brooks was the slapstick Nazis, this is Nazis as 'Big Brother' contestants. So underplayed, it's not exactly surprising many people complain there's nothing going on here - but then, the evil of the Nazis is a strange and unwanted gift for artists and filmmakers who want to get as damn near to Eliot's 'Objective Correlative' as possible, so they can play with a collective, coherent response. In this case, it begins with, "The Nazis were awful, awful people. When did their punishment happen, eh? How was death truly a punishment for their particular evil?" This movie shows, by making fun of them from several perspectives, exactly what their punishment was. When the film moves into the relationship between AH and EB later on, it is further complicated by the fact that Eva is the only one who has even seen what they are doing. Note the subtlety of the exchange which ends in Adi saying, "That's the right answer," or the weird symbolism of their body language when he finally catches up with her in the bedroom. Sokhurov is not trying to portray realistically what happened; he is using the space of Berchtesgaden as a space for a symbolic expression of what Nazism did to the Nazis themselves. Their hell began when they imposed it on others, and they only discovered it later, by which time, one of them was a doddering old neurotic wreck, another one way out of his depth, and still another one abandoned by his old comrades and desperately trying to curry favour. And the whole thing adds up to something ludicrous. I have read on another critique here, that Hitler was considered to be very boring. Well, he can't have been that boring, if you could provoke him to send you to the Russian front simply by criticising his ambitions - but then, the boredom angle is catered for in the first ten minutes with Eva's listlessness. This film is classic.
The Principles of Lust (2003)
bit empty, but with pretensions to something more.
The trouble with this film is, there are at least three good films struggling to get out, and none of them do. There is a good film about the effect of charisma and its ability to draw weak people into situations. That's touched upon, but the characters are not really that believable. Then there is the exploitation of minors film struggling to get out, with the clever subplot of the child's OTHER pastime, the community play - but this is hardly ever touched upon; it should be the main focus of the film, really. OK, I can't think of a third good film struggling to get out - but what we are left with is a rather dreary flick that struggles to get out of second gear. All the acting with the exception of the "charismatic" Marc Warren is of the 'ultra-realist' school in which the height of ambition is to 'gel' with normal people. The trouble is, the normal people the characters represent are quite stupid, all things considered. Although they are all 'artistes', they seem to inhabit a world where no one can exist without sex and where no one is really ready to point up the obvious - such as a kid used for bare-knuckle boxing. Thus, you don't care about the characters. When the main actor tells the kid that he isn't getting a 'fucking dog' you just wish the whole film would go away. Pathetic stuff.
This should have been a one-hour special on BBC1, but they wouldn't have got the hard-core porn in. Not really worth the admission price. Filmfour at its worst.
The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor (2008)
Superior 'Disneyfied' Action Flick - but haven't we seen it all before?
I haven't seen the first two films. The opening to the film sets it up very well indeed: the premise is strong, and the ancient-China lead-in good. The CGI is imaginative. Very imaginative, and only occasionally does it look like CGI. Which is a recommendation. The tricks inside the pyramid are quite imaginative for a while.
There is good characterisation of the yeti, nicely unusual. Marvellous swordplay in it, only slightly let down from time to time by that old FAULT of virtually all Hollywood film, what I call the 'shaky camera' syndrome, in which it is believed the only way to get across the urgency and intensity of action is to move cameras so fast you don't get the sense of who is doing what. Face it, most action scenes are incomprehensible in their dynamics these days, because you cannot track the movement of individual elements of the action.
NOW THE BAD STUFF Soundtrack - 0/10. This was the first 'alert' for me that what we were watching was tripe. It is insultingly predictable and must have been orchestrated in about five minutes.
CHARACTERISATION You just don't care. None of the characters are even remotely likable. Except maybe the Irish pilot, who gets 10/10. The idea of the nightclub-owning uncle is great, except it's overacted. I don't blame John Hannah; the rest of the film fails to live up to his standards. Everybody else is so weak. Brendan Fraser pulls a few faces here and there, and sternly ticks off his son, perhaps, but even that scene is badly badly done. In that situation, Alex o'Connell would have far MORE to say to his parents. This neat, glossy tiff between them is not realistic at all; the film had the chance to break boundaries in the fantasy film world, and to generate some real tension between its 'goodies', but failed.
PLOT I defy anyone to be very excited about this. "Let's take over the world." "Oh no one of the good guys is dead. Everything's wrong." "No, suddenly everything's all right." YAWN! A much better direction for the film would have been to explore how Alex had, on his own initiative, been about the blow the professor's treachery when his parents burst in on the scene. As I say, this would have led to considerable tension and a real film to watch.
All we are left with, after all of this, is a film with a couple of excellent lines in it, some great CGI, and that is trying to use its soundtrack to excuse its failings. And yet, as 'Disneyfied' adventure films go, this is the best of the bunch. Had it come out in 1985, with 'Goonies' or 'Indiana Jones' or 'Young Sherlock' to contend with, we might have been saying what an excellent advance on the genre it was. I see the Soundtrack won an award. I also see Brendan Fraser won an acting award - or was nominated or something. Wow.
300 (2006)
you've got to admire a film that gets such power out of such a weak script
The script for this movie is atrocious. There is no doubt about that. This is an ailment which afflicts most 'comic-book' crossovers, and usually stops the movie dead in the water. Here, it doesn't. Why is that? Again, leave aside Scottish Spartans. Personally, I found that quite an ingenious comparison, because of the warlike races. One man's artistic meat is another man's poisonous turkey; but people assume there is one particular way of making films, and build up critical attitudes this way. Anything that violates those attitudes is likely to cause offence simply because a dividing line has been drawn. One's parents' values get passed down through the generations, etc etc etc.
The main virtue of this film is it makes you consider what *you* are doing with life, and whether *you*, in the same circumstances the characters find themselves in, would react any differently. Another virtue is its revitalisation of classical antiquity, but I don't want to dwell on this too much because I suspect the facts as they are understood have been somewhat played with. All the characters get their interesting moments of deliberation and decision - except, perhaps, the kid - and they are all quite intriguing. Would a Spartan woman allow herself to be raped for her country, for instance? It's not a perfect film by any stretch of the imagination; by which I mean, it lacks the essential control of all the elements. Script is usually woeful, lighting all dreary darks and rumbling clouds and ethereal lightning, and the subject is not given a wide enough historical overview to be utterly satisfying - but this film as I said before is about the power of its central stories. I know I said most scripts from comic books are woeful; and they are; they encourage retrograde, wooden acting as actors consciously or subconsciously go for the 'freeze frame' look. As I say, though, if you sit back and let the occasional film just be itself, it can hit all the right notes; after all, no one would consider not watching 'The Italian Job' simply because of the inaccuracies and "miscontinuities", would they? Good film. I'd probably watch it again.
Diabolique (1996)
Lives up to its name.
I've read through many perspectives on this film, and one that seems to crop up time and again is the word 'camp.' Unfortunately, the film never establishes itself as camp, or indeed anything. It's pointless. There being little to add to the dissection of this film's problems, let's concentrate for a second on how a script this revolting gets made into a film this unsatisfying.
Firstly, you have to have a screenwriter who really wants to make a point about how he understands the original. But another trait he has to have is that he doesn't think many other people understand the original. Then, you have to have him working with a culture he doesn't understand. How Sharon Stone got a job in a Catholic boarding school is amazing! Let alone how Palmintieri could stand over his dying wife, or how a boy could break through into the headmaster's quarters, witness the entire scene, and not be sent away. I had nine years in boarding school, and not once, thankfully, did I get to see my headmaster bare-chested. I can understand the chap's fascination with his naked language teacher, and it's very plausible he might find his way to a window to watch from a distance, but he must be the most intuitive, caring boy in the world to have grasped that something was very wrong - and then, if he had done so, he would have gone straight for that adult that Palmintieri has to tell him to go and find. Perhaps he is desperately in love with Miss Adjani. Whatever.
Then you have two other awful, awful pieces of writing/casting. (a) the video team - straight out of the 'Titanic' school of cheeky-chappy enthusiasts who say dude all the time and really don't give a fiddler's toss about anything other than the geeky enjoyment their jobs bring them. This kind of embarrasiing stereotyping wiped at least a star off my rating of 'Lock, Stock' (the scousers) and it's just insulting to camera technicians everywhere. Hollywood's presentation of enthusiasts has often been has often been unkind in a 'let's laugh at them' kind of way; here,it's unwatchable. And (b) the other members of staff. You kind of wish the two girls could have chosen their victims more wisely. That would have made the ending much more acceptable. While they were about it, they could also have knocked off that bug-eyed monster whom someone has come back later on in order to introduce a "mystery" element with the sunglasses.
Then, you MUST have a director who wants to refer back to the original with as many 'atmosphere shots' as he can find. Probably in homage to it, but again, with no real point. In the original, the dripping tap serves a purpose of heightening the atmosphere of tension. In this film, there IS no tension until right near the end, when KB is wandering through the garage. But why is she wandering through the garage? So the director can 'explain' where Palmintieri has been hiding all this time.
By trying to do the original film homage while making his own point about what a great scriptwriter he is (is he?) or what a great director he is (is he?), the person or persons most responsible for this film, clearly told to cut down on the length of the original, never pauses long enough to let anything sink in. Thus the rhythm of the piece goes sideways. And I found myself thinking there must have been a moment during production when some studio heads said, "But, you see, we MUST have some violence, and a chase, some nudity and a sex scene." What began life as a vicious rape of his wife in the 50s classic becomes a ludicrous idea in this, effortlessly summarised by another reviewer here (thank you sir) as words to the effect of, "He terrorises and humiliates her so much that she has to shag him." I must say, though, Stone and Bates give class performances where and when they can - it's just Stone belongs in another film entirely, and Bates is given some classic quips but becomes a pawn in the filmmakers' race for the perfect, satisfying ending. Indeed, as other commentators have noted, halfway through they decide she is Columbo. "Just one more thing," she says, and I kid you not. Anyway, dears, the perfect, satisfying ending would have been for Bates to have locked everyone else in the school, including the scriptwriter and the director, and set fire to it.
This film does nothing that you can't find in the French and Saunders videos on Youtube (try the classic "House of Idiot" or "Whatever Happened to Baby Dawn". Except embarrass you, appal you, and make you sick. But you know, there is a plus-side. The film ended!
L.I.E. (2001)
Brian Cox - unmissable. The rest - bit of a curate's egg
Quite a conventional film, this. It'll probably date quite quickly as screenplays move towards more culturally-mature discussions of sexual matters. I agree with the commentator who said "We need more films like this," - in places the characterisation is very comic-book; the father, especially. Nevertheless, Brian Cox is superb, and is quite the most complex portrayal of that type of character.
At several points, though, I have issues. The counsellor gets far too irritated far too easily. If you've a problem kid, you don't stop them doing what they need to do to distract themselves, you read their unspoken thoughts and give them time while you work out the right question. She should have known that scolding wouldn't work with this kid. If this was the point, they should have developed the character of the counsellor, and shown that she was a product of a system that couldn't do anything but fail Howie. Having said that, we don't condemn 'Dambusters' simply because the dog is called 'Nigger.' These are notes for a future film.
The kid himself is still too passive, too unable to think for himself at relevant places. I have tutored kids in this age range, and they have the intelligence to put two and two together vis-a-vis their father being arrested. Not to mention the weak way in which Howie's father's assault is dealt with. It gives the idea that all homosexual teenagers are pacifists whose only response to parental violence is to feel victimised, curl up in a ball and cry. If the kid is breaking and entering, and his father assaults him, he's unlikely simply to dissolve into tears and then give his father a rather strange hug. Which might be a good point, but unless it's developed more than it is in this film, we'll never be able to tell it from directorial sloppiness.
This is a shame, because here was a chance to really call time on casually-violent fathers. The characterisation of Howie's dad smacks of committee thinking, "Well, is this kid's father gonna be an abuser or isn't he?" and the scene where his dinner partner has a heart attack just... missed the boat completely.
Furthermore, the film doesn't seem to know how it wants to end. The shock of Howie being about to kill himself is utterly dulled by over-repetition of the bridge scene, and that Big John is going to get killed by his partner is telegraphed and spun out way too long. And, not to sound too Kermodish about it, but Howie's poetry *isn't that good,* and his commentary right at the end seems ponderous and unsatisfactory.
Having said that, this film is worth watching for Brian Cox alone. Plus the fact that it is experimental, and, as Dr Frankenstein found out, experiments are never perfect. I'd love to give this a 9, but it's like the first University essay - you haven't quite developed the knack, the style; you're tentative in places, irrelevant in others. On the other hand, I was going to give it an 8, but Brian Cox is simply not to be missed. So 9 it is.
The Missionary (1982)
Shows what we had in Hordern/Harrison/Elliott. Sad, sad losses.
This is a delightful film. Watch it with two or three of you in the room, because laughter is infectious. As ever with films that Harrison invests in, it's not afraid to mix styles, but also, there is no point that it labours. Too often films are afraid of changing their tone, as if they had to nail their colours to the 'tonal' mast early on and then obey that: a screwball comedy has to be screwball, a period piece has to be charming, engaging, but not dramatic, etc etc etc.
The script, written by Palin himself, is an absolute gem, and for once his silliness is kept well within bounds. As someone else said, this isn't the 'expansio ad absurdum' technique of fine, fine Python, nor the pull-faces-and-use-silly-words-can't-think-of-an-idea of Palin on his off days. Enough, but not enough, has been written about the cast, all of whom provide top-notch performances. Whom to praise most? I note as well, that the "Memorable Quotes" section still misses what may be the funniest exchange in the whole film, the sequence which begins, "You know perfectly well why we got rid of Margetson." The only people who are going to be disappointed by this film are those people who have dogmatic views about what a Palin film should be, or who think a comedy should spare them the trouble of thinking and leave them in a heap of rubble on the floor. Take the film on its own merits and, though you might think of ideas which the film didn't touch, places where it didn't go, you will still find enough in there to remember those ninety minutes fondly. Would I see it again? When's it on next?
Green Street (2005)
Worth Seeing
Some good bits, and some people come out of this film with immense credit. What I am asking myself, though, is why the writers didn't think into their story a little further. We are unfortunately left with no credible reason why Elijah Wood would even give these prannies time of day - there is no reason at all for his cowardice. I don't want to critically savage this film, because that would be to hurt some very fine people, along with the people who should stick to spot-welding or internet poker or shark-taming. The brightest spin I can put on this film is, "It raises a debate."
Then, perhaps this film isn't for me. Perhaps I am not its "target audience." But then, sometimes it is quite a convincing comedy, and sometimes it tries ever so hard to be a morality play. There may be some merit in confusing the weak-minded, and if this film does social good, as it surely must, it deserves a plaudit. Sometimes, even, the dialogue seems excellent at giving over the self-delusions of the characters.
Isn't it true throughout the history of film, moreover, that sometimes the greatest innovations come couched in the most detestable rubbish? The violence in this film is astonishingly good in its execution. It'd be gratuitous of me to give it lower than a six, because words like piffle and baloney taint some very fine acting performances, and a director who just needs some good material to deal with.
Why, though, does it happen, that innovation often comes couched in mediocrity? Bandwagons, I'm afraid. "Excitement" clouds judgment, and emotion backs up excitement. That's when people start saying, "No debate, we do it my way." After that, a project is sunk sunk sunk. Eventually a film does have to get made, whatever quality it proves to be. Maybe I'm too nice: maybe it really doesn't have to get made like this, and, yes, I'd like to take several scenes and several performances out of this film and put them into a film that goes somewhere, does something, isn't hopelessly confused and doesn't embarrass its screenwriter quite so comprehensively. I note the director got three awards. She, EW, and a couple of the other actors should have got more awards for putting up with the unremitting tripe of this screenplay, - but there I go again - I *want* to like the way this film was made. Will someone please help me?
Cheers,
Fernsy
Critical Breakdown: Violence 9/10 - not overdone, perhaps too much quick-fire camera-work, (overegged pudding, anyone?) but realistic. Camera-work - 7/10 - striving for effect too much. Soundtrack - 4/10 - Why do you need a soundtrack? If so, why do you need such a boring soundtrack? Where's the heavy metal? I doubt these people would give the Stone Roses time of day, to be honest. Acting - 9/10 - What they do with this script has to be seen to be believed, and the tragedy is, because the script (qv) is so appalling, they won't get recognition. Script - 2/10. Er... Story - i/10 (sic) - Who didn't finish their job, then???
ps 'i' is a Mathematical concept. i * i = -1.
To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)
beautiful Scout, great Peck
There are films that are important to understand. And there are films that you understand are important. From the third frame, you know; you know because the tracks to your limbs from the nerve-centre in your brain close down for engineering works, and your attention thereby freed repulses attacks from any other thought-source with vicious ruthlessness. You leave the cinema feeling cleanly dirty. And you can pronounce that how you want.
This film is full of people doing noble things. There are some ignoble ones as well, but somehow they don't matter - and it illustrates so powerfully the inability of the liar to sustain his cause under the feeblest pressure that this is only surpassed by the way it handles truth as something to be expressed in between the script.
Ah! the script!! In an earlier review of this film, one which bit the dust when my video recorder decided to remind me that I hadn't watched the second half again yet by taking itself off pause, I quoted a few lines. Now I don't want to quote lines any more: context isn't so important, but implication that the script has peaks and troughs is a dangerous business: what can you afford to ignore in this movie? That's if you can take your eyes off Mary Badham as Scout long enough to realise that there are other fine performances in this movie. But somehow, you come out knowing that Gregory Peck is a noble man who deserves the luck of having such a violent daughter with an insatiable appetite for outdoing her sibling. Who, in terms of the Deep South at least, is heroically noble to resist the sort of savagery that we are always left with the impression formed a staple part of the alleged-rape-victim's upbringing. I say alleged because I don't need to say any more. And if you still don't understand that, watch what Peck does after he has proved that Mr Ewell is left-handed. Or what Mr Cunningham does when he is confronted and exposed.
I began by saying that there was a class of films that you just know are important. There are films you can find many reasons to watch. But the really great films don't let you find reasons not to make you watch them again. To improve yourself in life? Either make a stock exchange fortune, or imagine yourself getting the reception that Atticus gets when he leaves the courtroom after the verdict.
I've gone ten because forty-seven would have been an excess. And spoiled the integrity of this website.
I don't normally do positive discrimination, but I'm going to make an exception. Well, it's positive discrimination only in terms of feeling I had to mention something about Tom Robinson, or indeed, the reverend, or indeed any of the other coloured characters. Boo Radley isn't an especial hero in the film; nor Scout, nor indeed Atticus Finch. Poverty for them does not preclude happiness. They are merely doing jobs. Even when Atticus takes it in the face from the alcoholic, it is nothing compared to the suffering of a group of people who are systematically oppressed. The heroes of this film are people under pressure, using their situation to encourage others to create less pressure in the hope of awakening nobler deeds. Try the defendant for size.
Peace,
Fernsy