Gravity

A phenomenal accomplishment in filmmaking supported by an excellent cast, a strong script and bombastic soundtrack. In sum: the theater experience of the year. See it.

I've been on hiatus for a while, which has been disappointing because I love writing these things. I'm planning to overhaul my blog once I'm free from Uni commitments, but in the meantime... I've been watching lots of stuff! I'll do my best to pump out a few mini-reviews in the coming days as my essay deadlines loom and I need to start digesting all this information into something academically presentable, but in the meantime... Here's Gravity.

With all the buzz around this film I just couldn't resist dashing out to the theater last week to see it. It's almost like a perfect conclusion to my sort-of series about the Hollywood system: When big-budget movies go right. I don't really have much more to say about that, except that it does happen! There are creative people working in the industry - not every film that achieves blockbuster status is cookie cutter. Gravity is a totally unique film to experience.

Mud

A beautiful looking, fantastically written, acted and paced, all-round excellent film. Mud is a shining example of the upside to the bigger-is-better culture of Hollywood,

In my last post I spent a good deal of time dwelling on the problems with Hollywood's obsession with bigger and yet bigger pictures, built for the mass market. To be clear; I enjoyed my time in the cinema watching Man of Steel, and a good many other blockbusters of its ilk. Some of them are abominations though. I don't review them often, because I don't often bother to see them.

But here I want to focus on one of the upshots of modern Hollywood, and especially one that has come about with the recent proliferation of affordable digital film-making equipment. Mud is a relatively low-budget film - $10 million is pittance compared to $200 million superhero films - but it has all the professional production quality and artistic finesse of the best of those films.

Mud is directed by Jeff Nichols (who also directed Take Shelter, which I love). It's about two boys who live in the Arkansas delta - Ellis and Neckbone, born and raised on the river. Exploring the swampland, the boys stumble across an old boat suspended in a tree, and even stranger, a grown man living in it. The man's name is Mud. He has crosses in his footprints, and a snake tattooed upon his arm. The only things he values are his shirt, his gun, and the girl he's waiting for; Juniper. As they befriend Mud and begin to uncover his past, the boys are also being boys; living and learning as they throw themselves headlong at life.

Sadness

William Yang's Sadness is a short, poignant and powerful piece about loss and identity. There's something amazingly warm about it, despite the grim subject matter.

If you've got a spare hour, you should watch Sadness.

Fair warning though: as if the title didn't give it away, Sadness is a powerful and exceedingly sad film. It will make you feel things, and some of those things aren't pleasant. But they are important.

You can watch it RIGHT HERE, now.

William Yang is a social photographer, who has made a living taking pictures, but also uses his pictures to perform unique storytelling pieces in art galleries. In 1999, Tony Ayres directed a film based on one of those performances: Sadness. The performance basically consists of what is pictured above: Yang sits on a stool, facing the audience with an unwavering neutral expression. Behind him, a slide projector casts images on the wall from his photography. In monotone, he tells stories that link with the pictures.

If you want to be surprised by this film, stop reading now and go watch it. I'm going to give a little detail about the stories he tells, but it may be that they are more effective if you don't know what you're in for.

Hitchcock

The film succeeds on many levels, but doesn't quite touch the heights of greatness of the titular director.

(This review contains spoilers for Psycho)

Alfred Hitchcock is still today the master of cinematic suspense. For the most part his films still hold up; I watched The Birds for the first time this week, and was enthralled at how such an admittedly silly premise could be turned into such a nail-biter. True, there were some awfully outdated "yellowscreen" effects, and times have certainly changed since the 1960s, but considering films like The Happening are made to this day, it's a wonder how well it holds up.

Psycho even more so. Psycho is perhaps most closely associated with the director today, but in 1960 when the film was in production it was considered a risky project, so different it was from Hitchcock's other works. The studio refused to fund and market it, the censors refused to approve it, and when it was released it was met with middling reviews. Since then, however, it has become most beloved by critics, with near universal acclaim. The film is considered both the genesis and the apex of the slasher/horror genre.

Coriolanus

Shakespeare's elegant verse translates beautifully into this tale of modern warfare... As long as you have the patience for it.

Up until last year, Shakespeare's Coriolanus has never been adapted to film. Is that not astonishing?

Ok, there was a BBC series from the 80s, and it had some decent actors and direction behind it. I watched a little; it's a pretty much your standard BBC Shakespeare. This film is very different.

Coriolanus is tells the tragic tale of a Roman general, Caius Martius (played in the film by director Ralph Fiennes), who wins glory in battle and runs for consulship (similar to presidency) of Rome, urged on by his ambitious mother. The play is about patriotism, rivalry, jealousy, ambition and pride. There's a fair bit of Freudian psychology involved too, but since that wasn't invented when Shakespeare wrote it's a testament to his grasp on human nature that he hits on themes that will fascinate humanity for centuries to come.

Skyfall

Despite lagging a little behind in action movie trends, the newest Bond pulls them off flawlessly, delivering a fantastic spectacle, and reigniting the franchise's potential.

Like my little blog that lags behind schedule, and reviews films after they've been in theatres for a month, James Bond returns with all the action movie tropes you've seen in other films over the past few years, complete with the motorcycle chase from The Bourne Legacy. That's not to say the Brit's are lacking in originality; Bourne didn't hijack a caterpillar on a flatbed, and use it to rip a hole in a train carriage in order for him to board. Bourne just kind of ended.

There's a lot in Skyfall that riffs off recent action films. There's also a lot that riffs off the rich history of the character in the past 50 years. For Christmas I received the Bond 50 collection, and as I work my way through them I'll be posting reviews for each. So while I had to look up a few of the references in this film, I expect over time I will grow to appreciate it more.

And please hear me: I really, really enjoyed this movie.

Platoon

Platoon is a classic war film that deals with the attitudes and actions of US soldiers in Vietnam. An intense experience, and essential viewing for war film fans.

First a quick note: having seen two war films in one day, I have to say that I'm not a huge fan of them. I do respect their craftsmanship and some of the messages they convey, but for a war film to be serious it almost inevitably loses a lot of joy. There are fun moments, in both Waltz With Bashir and Platoon, but they are dwarfed by the serious nature of their subject matter. I haven't seen a whole lot of them, for this reason, but there's no doubt in my mind that while Platoon is a great film, I'd sooner revisit the more sensationalist Where Eagles Dare because it's so much more fun.


Oliver Stone's Platoon follows a group of soldiers on the front-lines of the Vietnam War. The film, deservedly I think, won a slew of awards in 1986. It is a brutal vision of war (a response, Stone says, to the more jingoistic representations of Vietnam that came before), in which good and evil are far from cut and dry.

Mr Smith Goes To Washington

Even back then, Hollywood knew exactly what people wanted to watch...

In 1939 the Hollywood studio system was in full swing, and Frank Capra was cranking out drama films for Columbia pictures - a big name in the industry, from which we get a number of classics including It Happened One Night, It's A Wonderful Life, and this film: Mr Smith Goes To Washington.

This is a fun movie. It's about a guy who gets elected a US senator, by the machinations of a group of conspirators who need a stooge to vote their way for their profit. The man they pick is Mr. Jefferson Smith - leader of the boy scouts, and completely oblivious to politics. Over the course of the film we follow Mr. Smith as he struggles with his public image, his duties as a senator, and his purpose for being there. He's also totally overwhelmed with patriotic pride at being in Washington DC, amongst all the monuments and memorials to The American Way.

Fargo

The Coen Brothers knack for quirk and charm amidst heavy drama and viscious violence is extremely evident in this classic familiar-but-fresh crime thriller.

This will be the first of several catch-up posts that I put up over the next few weeks - including what looks to be a mega-epic post about batman - as well as many many short posts on films I watch in class. Time to knuckle down, I've got a lot of writing to do.

Fargo is a dark comedy/crime thriller about Jerry Lundegaard (William Macy), a used car salesman who has his wife kidnapped, in order that his father-in-law will pay a hefty ransom for her return. He plans to skim a chunk off the top to pay off his debts. What could possibly go wrong?

Basically, everything. Between Jerry and the two goons he hires, every stage of the plan is mucked up by poor judgement, bad timing, the intervention of others, or some other happenstance that leads to a string of murders, and a full-on police investigation into this web of incompetance and deceit.

Serenity

Awesome story, awesome characters, awesome world. This TV series was definitely worth resurrecting - go and watch it!

It's been a long time since my last post, and even longer since I posted about Firefly, but I've finally finished it. So here's a review of the movie that completed the story after the series was cancelled (for reasons I cannot fathom, since this show is so good!)

Basically this film plays out like a much longer episode of the show, which is both good and bad; on the downside the budget is still small by blockbuster standards, so while the effects are slicker and grander, they still feel a bit cheap and tv-ish. That's the worst of it though - all the best stuff from the show is all here; the dialogue is snappy, the characters are well defined and universally interesting, including all the new ones we're introduced to, even when they have precious few minutes of screen time. The universe this franchise inhabits is fantastically real-but-not, with a vibrance and believability overpowering any stretches of credibility.

Good Bye Lenin!

Good Bye Lenin! is a celebration of nostalgia, and gives a warm farewell to the socialist East Germany. It does this in good humour, with some clever takes on actual historical events, wrapped up in a very human story about a boy who deeply cares for his mother.

It's October 1989. Germany has been split in two - to the West democracy and capitalism reign, while the East remains under communism. But change is coming; in East Germany, the GDR is beginning to crumble, as its citizens yearn for the freedom of life on the other side. While young Alex Kerner is arrested in a student protest, he catches sight of his mother as she collapses to the ground. Christiane - the mother - has been 'married to the fatherland' since her husband escaped from it years ago. She lives and breathes socialism, and retreats into a coma for 8 months at the shock of seeing her son at the event.

Fact can be stranger than fiction though - in the course of those 8 months, the Berlin wall is destroyed, socialism falls, and East Germany becomes Westernised. When Christiane awakens miraculously, the doctors warn Alex that any kind of shock could set off another heart attack... including the revelation that her entire world has been revolutionised in her absence. So begins an extended charade, with Alex trying to hide the truth from his bedridden mother. From the clothes he wears, to the brand of pickles she eats, he meticulously reconstructs her world to be as it was less than a year ago - a mammoth task, given how fast things changed!

(The following may contain spoilers)

Insomnia

This thrilling drama draws you in to the mind of a detective deprived of sleep, burdened by guilt and dazed by the endless sunlight in far northern Alaska – and it’s a gripping crime story to boot!

From the mind behind Memento comes another film that deals with loaded psychological issues. The hook here is the setting – the town of Nightmute, Alaska, where the sun shines 24/7 in the warmer months. The issues are ones visited by Nolan time and again - guilt, justice, responsibility. Al Pacino plays Will Dormer, a detective of legendary stature sent north to assist local police on a particularly puzzling case, while back in LA he is under the scrutiny of Internal Affairs.

The film is basically a straightforward crime drama until half an hour in, when a chase through the Alaskan fog leads to an accident that changes the course of the investigation, and the film. The majority of the film deals with Wills struggle against the murderer, Walter Finch, despite his deteriorating state as he fails to sleep, night after night.

The performances here are fantastic, particularly Al Pacino as the bad-ass cop slowly coming apart and Robin Williams as a surprisingly chilling villain. The editing is nice, with recurring flashbacks that add to the mystery and atmosphere, especially the very creepy extreme close-up of blood drops soaking through a piece of fabric. For lovers of crime films, this is a must-watch thriller, with heavy atmosphere and surprising plot turns.

SPOILERS FOLLOW

Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol

The fourth instalment in the 15 year spy series, leading man Tom Cruise brings back the action with spectacular flair. Balls-to-the-wall from start to finish, this spy adventure delivers the thrills, especially on the big screen. Watch this film, and enjoy.

First a few changes to my blog: Spoilers will now be placed 'after the jump'. Everything on the front page of the website, and the front page will be much more compact. Hopefully people are interested enough to click a single button to get to the meatier bits of whatever I'm talking about. Also, I'll write a summary of the film and my opinion at the head of each post, before the picture. I need to work on creating a hook for the post, and encourage people to start reading rather than blabbing on about never getting time to watch movies. Speaking of watching movies, I actually got up off my lazy arse and made it out to the cinema this week! Here's a review of something that's actually screening right now...

Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. MI4, some may call it. If they keep at it a few more films, this series will be verging on Bond territory. In short: I loved it. In long: think The Incredibles in live action, with real(ish) people. Or Bourne, with high-tech gadgetry. Or Bond, with failing gadgetry. I'm not in a position to comment on how this film stands with the Mission series as a whole, but from what I've read, this is undoubtably the best of them. The pace is frantic, as the narrative thrusts us from one action set piece to the next, via some short expository interludes. The breathless pacing is matched in every scene by visceral and frenetic action, and more broadly by the urgency of the world-ending threat. This is something close to a perfect action movie. 

Characters have arcs, and a little time is given to each of them, but that's not the point. There's just enough backstory to understand where each member of the team is coming from, and to establish them as a tight group - with a dynamic that ranges from hilarious to occasionally tense, but consistently watchable and entertaining. Given the lack of character moments, the actors contribute hugely to creating this tight sense of belonging in our small group of hapless heroes.

What did I not like? Well, spoilers...

Batman Begins and The Dark Knight

I'm going to do something a little different this week. Firstly, since I was too busy to blog last week, I'm going to write a double post this week - on a series of movies that I love. Secondly, I'm going to start writing my post, then watch the two movies back to back, then finish writing with what stands out to me this time around (my fourth or fifth viewing). 

Some obligatory speculation on what the third instalment in this trilogy will bring will probably be included, but that's not what this post is about. This post is about appreciating a series which has elevated a 'mere' comic book into a spectacular tale interwoven with fantastic production values and deep explorations of themes. This is Christopher Nolans' Batman.

I'll start by saying I have very little history with Batman lore prior to these films. I saw Batman: The Animated Series a few times in my childhood, and I saw Batman action figures aplenty back then as well. I never saw Tim Burtons' films (but I think I remember seeing Batman Forever), and I certainly never saw the 60s serial. I learnt about all these after seeing Batman Begins. 

From what I understand, Spider Man was the movie that demonstrated how a comic book about a super hero had the potential to achieve commercial success as a blockbuster film, with huge crowd appeal and spectacular action. Batman Begins was the first time a comic book character achieved all that and could be taken seriously. The gritty realism in Batman Begins coupled with the believable characters, dark and serious themes and a powerful atmosphere made for a blockbuster that was unique, and thoughtful, unlike much of commercial Hollywood.

The Dark Knight was even more remarkable - firstly because it was a blockbuster sequel that deepened rather than destroyed the canon of the first film. But mostly because it took the comic book blockbuster to a whole new level of credibility. It carried on the themes, characters and world of the first film, but developed them from that origin story. It introduced new elements (most notably the Joker) to discuss different themes, as well as delivering more action and powerful drama. The film played like a conventional crime thriller, and despite the fact it was basically about a man in a bat costume fighting a clown, it was executed so well people were clamouring for a nomination for Best Picture.

There's a lot to be said about both of these films, especially The Dark Knight. My favourite discussion has to be from Christian podcast More Than One Lesson, which explores the underlying philosophies behind Batman and Joker, tracing the latter back to Frederick Nietzsche, and drawing comparisons between TDK and Lord Of The Flies.

And without further ado, I'm going to interrupt this blog with a screening for myself of the films in question. I will be back in a few hours to give my thoughts on the series as a whole, and whatever else springs to mind.

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5 IN-MOVIE HOURS LATER... BRING ON THE SPOILERS!

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Alright, I'm not going to try do this again. It's been 24 hours since I wrote the first half of this post, and spaced out across that time I have watched both Batman movies. Life just gets in the way of everything doesn't it.

I'll start with the big issues of Batman. Justice, for one, is laboured upon heavily in Begins, with the League of Shadows representing an absolute system of justice and punishment, while Batman forges his own path of compassion, intended to inspire redemption of the city. The second film focuses on the role of the hero - as times change, people begin to rise up against the corruption of their city (inspired by Batman), but begin to look to others, such as Harvey, to be the hero.

It is fascinating to see the transformation that goes on in Bruces' mind from grand idealism (in childhood, following his father) to mere vengeance (wanting to kill his parents murderers) to seeking justice (training with the League) to finding a balance between justice and compassion (inspired by Rachel, and in opposition to the League). In TDK he gets even further from his initial concept of justice, leaning more and more towards compassion for the people of Gotham. Eventually he sacrifices his own reputation in order to save that of Harvey Dents'. Jesus parallels abound, and the final montage of TDK sums up his position perfectly: people deserve to have their faith rewarded. Bruce realises that justice is not about revenge, not about balance, not even about himself, the hero, but the thing he started out to create; an idea. Batman symbolised the beginning of the end of corruption in the city, but could not see it through. He had to set aside his lone hero persona, in order to let Gotham save itself.

Initially, it seems, Harvey goes on a similar journey to Bruce Wayne; from the sweeping idealism of the political hero, the good man in the spotlight; to suddenly losing it all, and thirsting for revenge. Who knows, if given time and the right influence, maybe Two-face could have become more like Batman. But Gotham no longer needs Batman; they need a White Knight. And because Batman has taken responsibility for his crimes, Harvey is immortalised in the minds of the people as the ideal; the public face that they can aspire to be.

One scene in TDK reminds me of a video game. It's a shot that spins around the trio of Gordon, Harvey and Batman - in a way that's stylish and effective at presenting them as the three pillars of good in the city - but somehow feels a little like the cutscene right before a mission in a game. Gordon and Harvey argue, while the Batman silently watches; the player character. After some exposition, some character moments, some conflict, the pair of them turn to Batman as if to say 'we've laid it out for you, now go play the level.' Batman of course says yes, because that's always the answer video game heroes give. He then proceeds to Level 10: Hong Kong, where we witness our next action set piece. That's not a criticism, just an observation. Perhaps indicative of the way video games rely on the 'hero' concept for almost every story they tell.

But The Dark Knight shows us Batman as the perfect hero, in a way that most games, and most movies for that matter, don't. Batman is the perfect hero because when it comes time for him to step aside, he does so. More than that, he takes on a heavier burden to allow other people to continue what he started. He set his goals in Batman Begins - to become a symbol and to inspire people to stand against injustice - and stayed true to them to the point of self sacrifice. For most heroes, if it came down to something like that, their pride would get in the way.

It occurs to me now, I've pretty well finished my raving, I haven't said a thing about The Dark Knight Rises. Well, I have high hopes for the film. And having just watched these two, I'm all the more excited. I've heard talk about the idea that Batman may die at the end of the next film. I honestly can't tell whether or not that's something that Christopher Nolan might do! Or something he might want to do, but the studio would never allow. In any case, I feel like that ending would be (on the one hand) appropriate, to completely round out the story, carry the themes of justice and sacrifice, and bring a real gravity to the film. That is, of course, if it is executed well... doubtless it will be though. On the other hand, Batman is a character who should endure. The appropriate ending to a Batman movie is one like the other two we've received; the Dark Knight overcomes all obstacles and ends up standing on a rooftop, surveying his city, which he will continue to defend. Of course, the discussion of Batman passing on his mantle in TDK casts some doubt on that ending, and TDKs ending itself carried some implications for Batman that are bound to make the next film completely and utterly unique, even amongst these two already different films.

In sum: I don't know what's coming, but I sure look forward to it. Batman has lived long enough to see himself become the villain... and don't we all want to know what he'll do next!

Firefly (so far)

Note to self: stop procrastinating and write the thing on the day it's due. Or write in advance and publish on time!

I haven't finished Firefly yet, but my viewing of it has been spread out across such a long time, I think if I get a few thoughts out now, I can do a post about the series (or the movie) later to wrap things up. For now; my impressions and my questions.

Firstly what I think of the show: love it. When my girlfriend and I started dating we decided to watch some favourite TV series together. I chose Trigun (definitely worth a post in the future) and she chose to show me Firefly (Buffy being her true favourite). Interesting that they both be Sci-Fi Westerns, albeit completely different in style. In a word, Firefly is brilliant. The setting is interesting and well fleshed out, characters have great personality brought on by a fantastic cast with solid writing - I understand Joss Whedon is a bit of a legend of television. I know it's old, but the whole show feels utterly fresh to me, and the blend of old styles, new ideas, and random eccentricities of speech thrown in is so great, and the story thus far is engaging as well.

If you haven't seen this beloved Sci-Fi classic, and have any interest in the genre at all, give it a watch. I can't speak for the second half, but at least the first is well worth checking out.

I THINK THAT'S ALL I CAN SAY WITHOUT SPOILING THINGS, SO HERE GOES...

Today I watched the episode "Ariel", the 9th in the series. If you include Serenity, thats probably the halfway point, right? I'm really looking forward to getting some answers from the remainder of the show/film. What happened to River, and why? What kind of powers has she got, and what will she do with them? I know the Reapers will come back, and presumably those men in blue gloves (two great, creepy and threatening villains), how will that pan out? I already know there is lots of shooting and space battles involved. Does team Serenity win? I guess that's a given, but will they all survive? And the ship?

The character of Mal is an interesting one, as a hero. In a scene I watched today, he knocked his treacherous crew mate out, threw him into the airlock and threatened (very seriously) to shoot him off into space as they left the atmosphere. That's pretty brutal. But, necessary? It certainly was a heinous betrayal, and the ordeal no doubt got the message across. Mal is in many ways an admirable leader; true to his word, compassionate towards his crew, if only in secret. He's tough on those who oppose him, but considerate to those who are vulnerable. Perhaps his trouble is that he's too honest with the kind of scum-of-the-universe that he deals with (I don't think any heist they've attempted has gone smoothly), and he's too closed about his compassion for those around him; expressing it only reluctantly, or in anger.

Where am I going with this? I don't know, but I think he's my favourite character in the show, and it will be great to see how he fares throughout the remainder of it. I expect to see some serious bad-assness, as well as some touching moments - though I'm not sure if he can ever get the girl. Something about that wouldn't sit quite right; he's too independent and headstrong to be able to depend on anyone else. Of course he has this flirty thing going on with Inara, but I think in order to develop that relationship he would have to embrace a completely different side of his character - one that she loves but he's hesitant to acknowledge.

Or I'm just rambling. Will post an update as the series draws to a close, for me at least.

Grand Theft Auto IV

Or, a short reflection on storytelling in video games, and the gangster genre.

I know the trailer for GTA 5 just came out, but I still haven't finished the last game! As such, I've been playing it incessantly. And I'm picking up more than ever on its similarities to films in the gangster genre - and films in general for that matter. For those who don't know, the Grand Theft Auto franchise is over 14 years old; it's a video game series known for allowing players to commit acts of theft and violence in a realistic open world, emphasising free play and exploration, although there are always main objectives and side quests to be completed. More recent instalments have woven in a central story to the missions. I haven't played a whole lot of GTA - I played San Andreas a little on the PS2, but only picked up GTA 4 last year, because it was 75% off on Steam.

Best. Value. Ever.

Not only is the open world format ridiculously fun, and can soak up hours of time, but the main storyline is lengthy as anything, and thoroughly engaging... at least, as far as I'm up to. In terms of films, the game obviously has a lot in common with the gangster genre (Although this morning I played a mission which felt like a re-enactment of the truck scene from Raiders!). The main character, Niko, rises through the ranks of the underworld, coming into contact with a number of archetypal gangster film characters - from the Italian mafia, to the Irish family, the corrupt cop, to the prison-hardened black man. Everybody has enemies, and dirty work that needs doing.

Like Goodfellas, GTA 4 take us through life in 'the business', - drawing the player in to the mind of Niko. He does bad things, but he's a sympathetic character, and one to be identified with, in cutscenes at least. Interactivity is a crucially unique aspect of video games - decisions that can affect the story help involve the player in a way that film simply can't. Choices like whether to kill or spare a character, or who to side with can affect the way the narrative plays out, which makes for a far more interesting and potentially complex experience. To be honest, I don't know exactly how much the little choices matter in this game (at least not yet), but as I'm going through, it's certainly giving me the feel of control over the story, and a chance to affect the outcome. Exactly how, I'm not sure. I'm not there yet.

My one criticism with the narrative of GTA 4 is that its thrust is utterly deflated after almost every mission. The problem (in the broadest sense of the term) is that the game is too fun. The random stuff you can do in an open world like this is compelling enough to warrant hours upon hours of free-play, and (in my case at least), it may be several sessions before you get around to continuing with the storyline. The immediate tension of the plot is lost due to the nature of both the episodic open-world gameplay, and the lengthiness of the story itself, that demands several sittings. This was particularly frustrating when I picked up the game after several months break, to be confronted with the choice to kill on or the other of two brothers who had each been instructing me in the past few missions. I couldn't remember what either of their relations were to other characters, or which one I actually liked the more. Apparently one of them was sick? I don't remember. I spared the one who I vaguely remember giving me more interesting quests in the past. Unfortunately, thats where his mission path ended, so I feel like I made the wrong decision.

But this also speaks to the potential for games as narrative devices: I care about Niko, and the people around him; I am invested in this story, and I want to see it through to the end. Games are more and more frequently mining the potential for story-telling through interactive gameplay. I haven't played Heavy Rain, but it sounds like a fascinating experiment in this kind of innovation; other games by Rockstar have developed on other genres (like the western and film noir/crime). By and large, right now, games tell crap stories. Usually it's an excuse to blow things up and kill people. But GTA feels just a little more complex then that. Apart from all the shooting and mayhem in between, GTA 4's storyline holds up as one great trip through gangster world. delivering what film has been called upon to provide in the past: an escape from reality, wrapped up in a cathartic emotional journey.

Gee, I hope the ending for this game is good!

Memento

This might be my favourite movie. Ever.

It's one of those movies that, if you're not prepared for what you're in for, will blow you away. And if you don't understand it the first time (and you certainly won't), the second time will blow you away again. I've seen it three times now, and every time I see it I feel like I appreciate a bit more about the characters, the construction of the world, the style of the filmmaking, the complexity of the narrative, the themes explored elegantly in the tight, tense script. Watching this movie made Christopher Nolan my favourite director of all time, and I've loved everything he's done to varying degrees (although Insomnia is on my 'to watch' pile), but Memento is my absolute favourite.

If you have watched it, and don't feel like you understand it, This Article from Salon.com may just shed some light on it. It breaks the film down scene-by-scene, and lays out the character motivations, etc. Theres also some reflection on the meaning of the film, that should get your brain-cogs a-turning. I remember reading this years ago when I first saw it, and being almost as stunned by it as the movie itself.

Moving on: this, my third time viewing Memento, was in light of the maturity and broader perspective university allegedly endows you with, and a few things in particular clicked for me. First was the label of 'neo-noir'. If you're like me, you might have heard the term 'film noir' before. You might have thought 'gee, that sounds cool, why can't they make more of those these days?'. Y'know, the private detective, the gravelly voice over, dark urban setting, striking lines, heavy tone... I guess the thing I never quite grasped about noir is that it is a dark, dark genre. Morbid even. Cynical, certainly. I never understood why they were only made in the early hollywood days and not now. I guess the answer is: nobody wants that much depressing cinema in their lives nowadays. Film noir expresses a vision of the world that is dark, bleak, brutal, and harsh. This may not come across so strongly in older Hollywood as it does now in what have been labelled neo-noir films; new noir. Films like Sin City, parts of Watchmen and, of course, Memento, carry many of the tropes of the genre. Memento features an investigator protagonist who narrates to us through the telephone. He is cynical and paranoid, yet is seduced and screwed over by a femme fatale, Natalie. Blinds, harsh lines and light are featured prominently, and some scenes are even shot in black-and-white; a direct throwback to the noirs of the 40s. Memento embodies everything that the film noir once was... but completely turns it on its head with its transcendent style and heavy substance. This film, I would suggest, is the very definition of 'neo-noir'.

Perhaps if I type fast enough, my word count won't keep up with me?

THE SPOILERS ARE DOWN HERE.

The second thing that struck me was the way in which Leonard's world is constructed; the way it is conveyed to us, and the way it is used to reflect the kind of worlds we all live in... the ones we make for ourselves. I'll be short on this one: theres a line right at the end where Leonard says "I have to believe in a world outside my own mind". The problem being, as we shocked viewers sit there realising at this point, is that the world he thinks is outside is a fabrication. He believes Teddy is his target only because he falsely led himself to believe so. Teddy on the other hand, sees a guy with a problem, and turns him into an opportunity to profit from a scam. What I'm saying is: if you approach the film with the thought in mind: how does the way Leonard constructs a world for himself reflect the way we as individuals construct our own world? How much of what we perceive comes from what we construct for ourselves to perceive?... I could elaborate on this all day, but I've blown my word limit, I need to call it sometime.

Theres so much to be said and thought about in this movie. It deserve repeat viewing time and again. Works best with someone who hasn't seen it before - just don't give it away!

The Wedding Of River Song (and Doctor Who Series 6)

I'm going to start out with a short review of this episode, then add a spoiler tag before I talk about the series as a whole. I'm also going to go ahead and bump up my word limit a bit. Since we're talking about a TV series that is at least 10 times the length of an average film, I'll assume it's reasonable to devote double my normal words to it.

To set the scene: I am not quite old enough to be a long time fan of Dr Who, but as a child I did watch bits and pieces of the old series as they were rebroadcast. I tuned in at the start of the new series, and was quite dazzled by the newness of it. I wasn't a mad fan though, and although I watched most of the following series, I wasn't hooked and I didn't follow that closely.
What got my attention was Steven Moffat (who, in my mind, always seems to be spelt 'Stephen'. Weird.) Both for his excellent contributions to the Dr Who series, and for his other stuff. I didn't see much of Coupling, but Sherlock was brilliant. So when I found out he was to be show-runner, I started to give it some attention. His first full series was probably the best of the bunch... until this one came along. That said, there's plenty of holes to plot and nits to pick, so I'll get stuck straight in.

The Wedding of River Song is one of the most confusing experiences I've had watching a TV show. All those weeks of building up suspense, and showing those crazy ads (WHOA, pterodactyls? in Dr Who?), and they finally let us in to... whatever this world is. Everything is mushed together like some kind of living history museum where somebody's jumbled up all the facts just for fun.

It's a bit jarring, and strange, but it becomes clearer as it goes on, and I do find this episode to be very intriguing to consider as a series final. Usually there's more hype. There's more grandiose claims about the survival of the universe - there's more 'universe' shown to us to be in peril. Here the grand special effects serve the purpose of building up the world, rather than adding to the 'ultimate-ness' of the ending. Right up front, all the show and fluff merely sets the scene for what really boils down to a very convoluted answer to the question 'does the Doctor really die?'.

If you've watched Dr Who for any length of time, you should already know the answer to that.

The extra bits are fun though. It's great to see more of the Silence, even though they're far better suited to the eerie bits of the Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon two-parter. References to past Dr Who, from this season and others, and from other material as well (the Dickens reference was particularly clever, both referencing Who lore, and reinforcing the strangeness of the world). Interactions between characters are entertaining, and while the resolution is a little questionable, the focus on character and engaging story are a welcome break from the bloated end-of-reality-time-space-everything-disaster stories seen in seasons past.

SPOILERS, FROM THIS POINT ON (FOR THE ENTIRE 6TH SERIES)

Let's get to that resolution, shall we?

All that extra storytelling explains what? The Tessalecta impersonated the Doctor, and was shot by River in Utah. I've been uncertain throughout the whole series about how satisfyingly they would be able to pull off the Doctors' escape from apparent death. All in all, I am still uncertain about this conclusion. It's easy to say it's a cop out - just a man in a robot suit, not very surprising or interesting. It makes me wonder why the Doctor even had to be on the beach then? To control the robot so it acted like him I suppose, but at one point he also says that 'Time demanded that I be on that beach at that moment'. Makes me wonder who this Time person is and how he controls everything in the universe? (There doesn't seem to exist a God in Dr Who canon, except for the Doctor of course). Seriously, why does he have to be there? What is a 'fixed point in time'? How is one created? How does one know when one happens? How can free will interfere if it is 'fixed'?

Brushing that aside, this conclusion has some pretty intriguing implications for the series. The Doctor has been seen as a messianic figure a few times more than once in the past 6 series. He's travelled everywhere across parallel dimensions and alternate galaxies, has conquered foes that threatened to destroy existence itself, has had dozens upon dozens of inspiring speeches said about him... and just generally, it seems, the universe relies on him way too much. I thought this show started out as being about a simple traveller who went places?

I digress: implications! With the universe believing the Doctor to be dead and gone, what shall he do now? Obviously theres a whole lot of questions still to be answered, about the fields of Trenzelor, and the fall of the eleventh (the eleventh Doctor, perhaps?). But for the Doctor, this will mean a chance to just kick back and relax with the whole 'saving the universe every other weekend' thing. Perhaps for the show this will mean a return to simple, small-scale stories. Perhaps, like this year, they will be driven by the characters (All of which were great, by the way). I hope they take this opportunity to really delve into the Doctors' character; what makes him tick?

The fact that the question is the first, the oldest, and is hidden in plain sight, and is in fact the very title of the show perhaps points to a highly self-reflexive season next year. Maybe the Doctor will realise that he is the very reason that this universe exists - that everything around him was invented for him by screenwriters and novelists, and his entire life, all he's ever known is in fact a television show broadcast to millions worldwide! Man, if only that were Tru.

Maybe all this hype is around the reveal of his name. I hope not. That would be dumb.

Other loose ends continue to hang. Madame Kovarian was only killed in the aborted timeline; she and the rest of the Silence still loom in the distance. I think series five never got round to explaining why the Tardis blew up. Considering this series was all about how the Doctor both escapes death and the attention of the universe, perhaps that's something he might now wish to follow up on. Maybe he did follow up on it in the 200 years of his timeline that transpired. That seems like an awful lot, doesn't it? Lots of gaps that could be filled in.

It's hard to say what the next series will bring along, but there's plenty of ways it could go, and although it could slide down a dangerously canon-crushing (or worse, uninteresting) path, there is potential here for something amazing, and I look forward to tuning in next year!

The Shining

So, it's 2 minutes to midnight on Saturday night... If I start writing now it still counts as on time, right? :)

This week I didn't watch any movies that I was desperate to relive. Instead, because my film class is focussed on Horror movies this week, I watched The Shining. In fact, I watched it twice. The first time was supposed to be in class, but I skipped class that day, and watched it alone, at night instead.

Crap, that was a bad idea. Didn't sleep well at all - had visions all night of creepy twins, and a river of blood... I have to say that this is one of the most unpleasant experiences I've had watching a movie, while at the same time it is such an admirably well-made film. The absolute highlight for me was that cascade of blood; possibly the most arresting image I've ever seen on the screen. I had seen it before, on youtube, but in the context of the film it's used to great effect, and it never seems to get old, or less disturbing, no matter how many times it's shown.

In fact, I thought I'd show it to my girlfriend - she loves horror movies - to see if she thought it was as incredible as I did. The moment she saw it she said "We're watching this. Now." So, I sat through this disturbing flick a second time in the same week. It's amazing that even when you know what's coming, the movie is powerful enough to keep you as unsettled as the first watch. Redrum is now our catchphrase.

HERE ONWARDS BE SPOILERS!!

Taking a cue from the Slashfilmcast (probably my favourite movie podcast), I just threw that tag up there to let you know: I'm going to talk about the ending, and other plot details of the film, so if you haven't seen it, read no further. Mind you, I read the plot summary of The Shining on wikipedia years ago; It's not the twists of plot that gets to you, it's the heavy, heavy atmosphere.

One other moment that sticks out for me is when Jack starts screaming in his sleep, and awakes frantic. He looks genuinely frightened as he describes the horrible things he did in his nightmare to his wife. I'm not a father, but having a baby sister, and being a committed boyfriend, I can empathise with the kind of terror that would strike a father at the thought of losing his mind and striking out against the people that depend on you to protect them. I see this scene as a rare moment of sanity for Jack, on his slippery slope into madness, when he suddenly realises that the visions he's seeing are horrible, and desperately seeks a reprieve in his ever-commited wife.

Now, the movie does imply (very definitely in the extended version) that Jack is not a great father; an alcoholic and abusive man, who doesn't care for his family, despite Wendy's incessant loyalty. It's this checkered past in their relationship that makes her turn on him in his time of need, accusing him, quite reasonably, of injuring Danny. Although it is a sad moment of misunderstanding, and perhaps Jack wouldn't have gone quite so mad if she'd stuck with him in that moment (he then proceeds, frustrated, to get an invisible drink from the imaginary bartender; his first vision that ultimately leads to his rampage), in a way it is his own fault, for the way he's treated them in the past.

If you're like me, and wondering what the hell was up with all that craziness at the end (like the visions that Wendy sees, and the motivation behind the ghosts), the book is much less ambiguous, and from what I gathered from Wikipedia, it goes thus:

The Overlook hotel is in fact a psychic entity itself. When Danny arrives, it seeks to obtain his psychic power by killing him. It sends him visions, trying to break him, but he defends himself through his split personality - Tony is like the psychic aspect of himself. Failing that, the hotel attacks Jack, playing off his flaws, to drive him to do it's bidding, i.e., go mad and kill his family (namely Danny). When Halloran is murdered, the hotel absorbs his psychic power, which allows Wendy to see the 'ghosts'.

In sum, the film is a masterpiece, with some harrowing and unsettling imagery and music (Oh the music!), wrapped up in a plot that's both simple and subtly ambiguous. It could be read any number of ways, and the themes in it are powerful, and worth dwelling upon. I've only really offered a taste of the potential for reading this movie, but I guess that's the point of only writing snippets.
800 words. Too many. I'm off to bed.
Redrum.