Star Trek Into Darkness

Star Trek Into Darkness is a perfect continuation of a supremely well-executed reboot. It draws on the old lore, builds on the new, with a balance that will likely please both the casual audience and the hardcore.

(This review will spoil some major plot developments from J.J. Abram's first Star Trek.)

Star Trek Into Darkness takes the solid foundation of the first film, and builds on it fantastically. The aesthetic of 2009's Star Trek remains with the action scenes, the creatively envisioned future gadgetry  and even the infamous lens flare. Yes, the first film caught a bit of flak for the incessant lights that seemed dialed up to 11, but this film tones it down only a touch. It's no longer blinding, but it's familiar and consistent with the feel of the first film. Good compromise.

J.J. Abrams 2009 effort to reboot one of sci-fi geekdom's most well known franchises was perhaps the most brilliantly executed in reboot history. Recasting new faces as iconic characters, Kirk (Chris Pine) and Spock (Zachary Quinto), the trick they pulled in that film was to make the new series occur in a parallel universe; one affected by time travel. Different from the original series, but with the same characters and settings (well, minus Vulcan).

What made it really work was the presence of old Spock, played by the original actor, Leonard Nimoy. Nimoy's presence in the film served both to tie it in with the old series; acknowledging its existence, and also allowed the new series to take it's own direction with this slightly altered timeline. It was like the old franchise was giving its blessing that the new one be made, and be made differently. And how different it is! Unlike previous iterations, Star Trek was an action/adventure blockbuster, and a good one at that.

Vertigo

Hitchcock's classic thriller/romance about a man with a fear of heights has recently been labelled 'the greatest film ever made'. Vertigo is everything Hitchcock did best; a rollercoaster ride of suspense and surprise, an absolutely engrossing film.

The nice thing about Hitchcock's masterpiece is that, despite its incredible plot twists, it's a hard movie to spoil. I could tell you what one or two of the revelations are, but they wouldn't make sense without a fair bit of context first. I'll give you some context, but I won't spoil the film here.

James Stewart (one of my favourite actors ever) plays John "Scottie" Ferguson, a detective who retires after an incident in which, while on a chase, a police officer falls to his death trying to save Scottie from hanging off a building. The doctors diagnose Scottie with acrophobia; a fear of heights (often confused with the dizzy sensation known as vertigo). He encounters an old school friend, who asks him to follow his wife Madeline, concerned for her welfare. It seems Madeline believes that she is possessed by someone from the past; a mysterious figure named Carlotta.

Casablanca

A classic film from the golden age of cinema, rightly regarded as one of the finest.

You have definitely heard of this movie. At least, if you haven't explicitly heard of it, you have heard it quoted or seen it referenced a thousand times over. Such lines as "Play it once, Sam. For old times sake", or "Here's looking at you kid", or to my surprise, "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship..." This is a film that has totally saturated pop culture, influenced many films for decades to come, and is held up as a contender for the 'greatest movie ever made'.

And I liked it. In fact, I think other people will like it too. While it exists in our cultural memory as a sweeping romance film - and, yes, the romance is integral to the plot - it's actually more of a drama/thriller, centring around the tension between characters trying to escape from Casablanca. The film was made and is set in the midst of the second world war, in a town in French Morocco called Casablanca. A melting pot of different cultures, Casablanca is located on the northern tip of Africa. In 1942 it is ruled by the French, who are occupied by the Germans, but is far enough from both that neither exerts complete control over it. Refugees from across Europe have made their way here in order to escape the war, by boarding a boat for Lisbon, and eventually getting to the United States. (The film was written before the States joined the war, but was released the year after.)

Paris, Texas

The pace is slow going at first, but the drama is dynamite.An ultimately uplifting story of a man's quest to restore his broken family.

Oh, it says heartbreaker on that poster. There's a few ways you could read it, I guess.

You can also get it in formats other than videocassette nowadays.

Enough stalling, here's what this movie is about: a man is wandering through the desert in Texas, and runs out of water. When he makes it to a salon he manages to swallow a mouthful of ice before collapsing.

The mans name is Travis, we learn when Walt, his brother, comes to pick him up. Travis has been missing for four years, and has an 8 year old son now in the care of Walt and his wife Anne. Travis has amnesia, but slowly begins to remember his life before he went missing (though exactly where he went and what he did remains a mystery). He begins to develop a fresh relationship with his son, Hunter, a bright kid with an adorable charisma about him. Hunter's plans are equal parts childish and silly, and mature and useful. He functions as a kind of therapy for Travis, drawing him back to sanity after his bizarre long absence. Slowly, Travis becomes more and more fatherly to his own son.

Eventually, Travis decides that he needs to search out his wife, Jane. Walt and Anne still don't know what happened between Travis and Jane, or why the pair both went missing separately. I don't want to spoil the second half of the movie, because it's brilliant. Although the first half can drag at times, it builds to a powerful sequence in Houston, Texas, and a thouroughly satisfying conclusion.

The title; Paris, Texas, is a running 'joke' of the film. Inverted commas, because for Travis it's much more serious than a joke. His mother was from a town called Paris in the state of Texas, and his father would always hesitate before the word Texas; allowing them temporarily to believe his wife was French. It speaks to a broader motif of the film; of imagery, facades and deception. Walt's business is billboard construction, his wife is actually French, and the most apparently perfect character in the film. The town itself is never visited, only shown in a photograph... of an empty block.

It's a deeply layered film, its message delivered in the subtleties of the film making. It's beautifully shot, with characters who are well acted, but more noticeably well fleshed out. Every person in the film seems to act entirely within reason, and you can fully comprehend exactly why they act the way they do. None of this Hollywood villain crap; just real people, with real issues.

Alright, there are some pretty crazy issues, but they all seem to be in the past. What I took away from the film is the impression of a man who has made mistakes, and is trying to bring his family back together. To do so he must break the facades - or run away from them if necessary. His love for his son is evident in the lengths he goes to deliver him a good life; I found their relationship sweet and invigorating to watch (despite some sad moments).

Paris, Texas takes its time, but delivers with some extraordinary answers to its plaguing mysteries. There's a lot you could take away from it, but by the end of it, I was happy.



Seen Paris, Texas? Want to? Won't?
Leave a comment, start a discussion :)

The Player

The more you know about Hollywood, the more you'll appreciate the many, many references. The less you know, the more fascinated you'll be by this nasty machine from whence our entertainment comes.

Sex, violence and a happy ending - what more could you want from a movie?

How about a healthy dose of wit, satire and irony. This is a very smart Hollywood movie.

The film stars Tim Robbins as a studio executive living and working in Hollywood. Director Robert Altman uses the setting to his advantage - roping in about 60 cameo roles by well known actors, directors and other personalities. They appear briefly in the many shots of lush restaurants, cafes, offices and car parks that these insanely rich people occupy.

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.

No Man's Land

Two opposing soldiers, trapped between the lines, and a third man lying on a land mine. Hilarity ensues? Far more tense than funny, but utilising satire effectively to make a point about the futility of modern war.

When Yugoslavia broke down from 1990-1992, several factions formed in its place, each fighting for its own territory in the former state. The Balkan war ensued; from 1991-1995, bitter struggles raged between a formally united people. Ultimately the conflict was resolved, and a section of land now belongs to each of Bosnia/Herzegovina, Croatia, Macedonia, Montenegro, Serbia and Slovenia. But somewhere in that time - on the front lines between Bosnian and Serb soldiers - the events of No Man's Land may have occurred...

No Man's Land is a grim comedy about the absurdity of modern warfare, and a vicious satire of the international community, and their oft shallow or vain attempts to intervene (in the form of both the UN and the Media). Caught between the two front lines, Ciki (a Bosniak) takes refuge in an abandoned trench in the middle of no-mans-land. Stuck with him is a Serbian called Nino, a nervous wreck after his superior is shot by Ciki. Complicating matters is Cikis friend Cera who, presumed dead, has been lain atop a spring-loaded mine by Nino's superior. He awakes to discover that if he moves more than an inch, they are all dead.

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)

Paul

This post is late; I'm surprised how strongly I reacted to this film.

I'll say upfront that I haven't (yet) seen any of Simon Pegg and Nick Frosts' other collaborations, but by the sounds of it they are funnier than this one, and I definitely look forward to checking them out... eventually.

As for Paul, I'll keep the review brief then share a few thoughts about what stuck with me after the movie. A short history: Paul is the result of yet another collaboration (the third, I believe) between Nick Frost and Simon Pegg - although it is not counted in their 'Blood and Ice-cream trilogy' alongside Sean Of The Dead and Hot Fuzz. This is probably appropriate, as it doesn't appear to have garnered such high praise and classic status as those films. This may not be entirely their fault; reportedly there was some heavy studio intervention during pre-production on this film, in an effort to make it more 'mainstream', possibly to justify the cost of the CGI. The end result, however, still seems aimed squarely at a narrow audience of sci-fi nerds. The film is, essentially, a love letter to geekdom. And that's probably how it was originally intended.

Sadly, the film is just above average - with hints of potential greatness in some of it's ideas. It's funny, but I never laughed out loud (granted, I watched it alone). It drags a bit in the middle, although the last 20 minutes suddenly get very exciting. It's loaded to bursting with references to science fiction and pop culture, at least half of which went straight over my head. The way the alien is integrated into the the world of the story is extremely clever - in such a way that leaves the filmmakers free to rip off any alien movies they like, and have it make absolute sense. The concept is so great, and the execution is mostly adequate but there's something just a little off... I think Roger Ebert summed it up best: the problem lies in the character of Paul; he is, essentially, Seth Rogan with green skin.

SPOILERS FOLLOW:

Ok, so the main thing that resonated with me in the film was the subplot involving Ruth, the stereotypical naive fundamentalist christian girl, suddenly encountering this alien, and absorbing his knowledge in a faith-shattering experience. As a Christian, it's a little disappointing to see my faith on screen being represented as reprehensible, unlikable, unagreeable, narrow minded... The sort of things atheists accuse Christians of being over the internet, when they're more interested in stirring up a fight than having an actual argument. I'm not saying that all Christians are above this, but it's frustrating to see such deep and important issues reduced to Straw Man and Ad Hominim arguments (look them up).

This film has an overtly atheistic slant, poking fun at the extremity and hypocrisy of some christian sects (Jesus shooting Darwin??) and more generally poking fun at the idea of God, in a universe clearly driven by naturalistic mechanisms that have produced life separately, on more than one planet; Paul himself being the clearest evidence for this.

So my first reaction was just to be annoyed. Later, I found myself wondering about the themes of the film. Risk might be one of them; Paul encourages Graeme to 'roll the dice'; to take a chance. I thought it kind of surprising that Paul turns out to be... exactly who he says he is. Graeme puts his trust in him at the start - for no real reason other than to take that chance - and in the end finds his trust rewarded. His faith rewarded. That was it, this movie is about faith. That got me thinking.

Take the character of Paul; a being from another world, who imparts knowledge and demonstrates fantastic powers. He heals the blind, and sets the girl free from her confined life. He's persecuted by authorities, trusted by a few friends. Ultimately, he puts his life on the line in order to save his friend from death and ascends from earth... Need I go on? He's a perfect Jesus allegory! Down to the point that Ruth paraphrases the Bible, saying "Now I see". She means this literally in that her eye has been healed (Jesus reference) and metaphorically in that he has opened her mind to the reality of the universe, delivering her from the set ways of her old religion and, dare I say, freeing her from sin.

But I get the feeling that's not what they were going for. In bringing up God and aliens, though, it seems the film was going for a discussion of faith. These two nerds have a religion of their own, and Paul appears to them like a saviour. I'm sorry! Enough with the allegory. If we just examine the idea of faith from this film, what we see the 'true' faith of the nerds is rewarded completely. Paul is everything he claims to be, and becomes a great friend as well as a cool guy to hang out with. And it's this that makes the film, as almost every reviewer has called it, a 'sweet' film. There's no deception, there's no bitterness or cynicism; just a couple of dudes hanging out, with this other dude with green skin. This is about faith gone completely right. It may be overtly anti-religion, but underneath it seems to carry a different message; sometimes it pays to just have faith.

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.

...

...

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

...

...

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 Lightbulb Conspiracy

Once upon a time..... products were made to last. Then, at the beginning of the 1920s, a group of businessmen were struck by the following insight: 'A product that refuses to wear out is a tragedy of business'. Thus, Planned Obsolescence was born...

Ok, this one's a bit obscure. I finally got around to watching a few short films from a festival that my friend gave to me. This one was an hour long - not what I expected when I sat down for a few minutes of down time, but I resolved to watch the beginning. To my surprise, it was thoroughly engaging and insightful, breakdown of the driving forces and dark secrets behind the capitalist economy that runs our society (or, at any rate, mine).

The documentary begins with an ordinary Barcelonan man trying to print something with his Epson. But the printer isn't working! Best get a new one, all the technology shops say. A part in it needs replacing, but to do so would cost more than it's worth. As the man embarks on a quest to restore his printer to functionality - a printer with not a thing wrong with it other than a full ink overflow - the film explores the origins and effects of Planned Obsolescence.

You may not have heard of Planned Obsolescence, but if you live in a developed society, you most definitely would have experienced it. It's the concept of every thing that you purchase having an "expiry date". Even though it could be designed to last for longer, it has been intentionally built to break after a certain period, to encourage consumers to buy a new one. Another definition given to us is the "desire on the part of the consumer to own something a little newer, a little sooner than is necessary..." The film explains that it all began with the first mass-market light bulbs, when the leading manufacturers got together and agreed that the limit for a light bulbs life span should be universally set at 1000 hours (prior to this, 2500+ hours had been achieved). This meant that the customers would be forced to purchase a new bulb more often, making them more money.

Although at first the film seems to finger-point at the big businesses and corporations behind this seemingly sinister suggestion, it isn't afraid to examine the issue more thoroughly, and delve deeper into what the concept meant for the industrialized world. In America, it was the adoption of Planned Obsolescence on a broader scale - from cars to fridges to stockings - that revitalised the economy, and pulled them out of the great depression. In East Germany and other socialist states, the hardy made-to-last products that suited the communist economy couldn't hold up in a capitalist market, where spending drives growth, and growth is the ultimate objective. 100 000 hour bulbs now only exist in museums. Ultimately, it is society that is to blame, and every individual that takes part in it.

What comes to mind is a quote I learnt from Civilization IV, which baffled me when I first heard it:
"The bureaucracy must expand to meet the needs of the expanding bureaucracy"

In a fascinating and poignant final segment, the movie then follows massive shipping containers of 'broken' technology out of America and accross the ocean into third-world Africa. There we see a society whose home has become a waste dump for our excess; the more we grow, the more these people must strive.

In sum: the film is challenging, and engaging, and if you didn't zone out when I mentioned capitalist economy (or even if you did, and you skipped to the end to read the summary), look for a chance to check it out. It's shorter than a full length movie, but will make you think harder. And if there's any hope of getting ourselves out of this rut, it's going to take a lot of thinking...