Shoeshine (Sciuscià) (Vittorio De Sica, 1946)

Oh my gosh! That was literally my reaction at the end of this shocking film. It started normally enough − for a neorealist film. Although it wasn’t as “rough” and “authentic” as Roma, Citta Aperta for instance. There were signs of obvious editing and there didn’t seem to be as many long shots. Yes, some shots of the “banal” or more boring, but for the most part, it was like a draft of a Hollywood film almost. I know De Sica’s films are known for the more significant part children play in them and this one was no exception. The main two characters, Giuseppe and Pasquale, are so mature and responsible it just amazed me. They took care of all this business and finances, and I got the impression they were doing better than their parents (who actually borrowed from them). Now I don’t know much about the situation at the time in terms of currency, but I found it a little well, maybe hard to believe that they could afford a horse, and if they could that you would actually spend money on the animal rather than food, for instance. Nevertheless, they were convincing characters and proved to be an effective way of portraying injustice through their innocence and naivety. I noticed that the jail director sort of related to the dictator of a Fascist regime, like Mussolini, particularly when he inspects the food in the kitchen, saying it’s “passable”. He was tough and cold, in contrast to his assistant who ultimately had too much empathy and left the jail, aware of his unsuitability for the environment there. I was impressed with how well they could keep their promise not to rat out their employer. I think this is an example of Gilles Deleuze’s time-image, where the characters are pretty much passive and helpless, as they are locked in jail after being accused of selling stolen goods and their escape is ultimately unfruitful. The fact that it was Giuseppe’s brother that got them the job makes it all the more harder for them to confess.

However, we see Pasquale’s strong man-like exterior crumble when he witnesses what he thinks is Giuseppe being beaten (which is in fact a clever trick involving beating a bag of potatoes and getting a young boy to scream, as if in pain). He then confesses “or grasses” but we see how this event turns his good friend (and pretty much brother) Giuseppe when he finds out from his mother that his brother is being investigated. It seems like the act of beating becomes a catalyst for truth, as later on we see the same thing echoed when Pasquale is beaten (for real this time), after Giuseppe tells the prison director he has a nail file in his cell (which he planted there). And thus, Giuseppe yells out for them to stop beating Pasquale, effectively revealing his guilt and deep-seated love for Pasquale. The little girl Nannarella also has an interesting presence in the film, she hardly speaks but is there with the boys at the start, when they’re taken away, and even in court − she’s like an angel figure I suppose. 

The film is not all doom and gloom, as seeing the protagonists are young boys, there are moments of light-heartedness and proof that children can come up with the most amusing things to say. Near the end of the film, before the boys escape, we see them watch a film (which like Pasquale points out, the jail gives them food, shelter and entertainment − “what more could you want?”) and the film becomes almost self-reflexive as we watch them watching a film, and for one of the poor boys (with a lung condition), a rare experience of the joys of cinema. This is before the projector catches fire and causes a mass trampling which ends up with this very boy dead (which honestly, I was kind of expecting). Speaking of death, well the ending is just incredible − so far from the happy, ever after resolutions of Hollywood classical narratives. Pasquale leads the jail director to find the escaped boys (with the intention of running away) and when he finds Giuseppe, he starts slapping his face as an expression of the anger and I suppose regret he feels. Nevertheless, as he hits Giuseppe, he fails to notice the edge of the bridge and results in pushing him over, to have Giuseppe land on the rocks below, motionless and dead. Pasquale just breaks down and of course the guards and jail director come running, we see the horse walk away (a symbol of their dream no longer within reach) and the words “Fine”. So the movie ends on this tragic, painful note and I suppose Pasquale returns to the jail or may even be charged with manslaughter. It’s a terrible way to end a story but so memorable and definitely an example of just how different the movement of Italian neorealism was.

I also like the special features which include interviews with the child stars (now much older men), documentary “Through Children’s Eyes” and segment on neorealism.

3/5

Nick of Time (John Badham, 1995)

Oh man that was fantastic! My heart is still beating from the suspense! Quite a thrilling story and it was suddenly all over. I did not expect it to be this good, proving that you shouldn’t judge a book (or movie) by its cover. Johnny definitely has a knack for choosing great roles with interesting and engaging protagonists, and this is one of those rare occasions where he kind of plays an action hero (though without a lot of the explosive action so typical of Hollywood films). 

It revolves around Gene Watson (the fabulous Johnny Depp) who arrives in Los Angeles with his six-year-old daughter and is approached by a pair of criminals posing as police officers. They kidnap his daughter and plan to kill her if Watson doesn’t follow their orders, which is to go to a nearby hotel and kill the Californian governor in 90 minutes. Although at the start I saw a few plot holes or possibilities that made it less believable and harder to get into the story, by the end of the film I was on the edge of my seat, hoping that Johnny would save the day! To make things scarier, you have the evil Christopher Walken as the main crook, who is always watching Watson to make sure he doesn’t alert the authorities or speak to anyone (which is the first possible flaw avoided). He is always popping up when Watson is trying to communicate his situation to people he encounters. You get the feeling that he won’t be able to commit the assassination but then as the clock ticks (the movie is pretty much in real time), it starts to look like he doesn’t have any option. 

Finding a way out becomes more complex as we discover that almost everyone around the governor is in on the plot, including security and even her husband. Watson tries to get her assistant to help and because of Walken’s ability to appear out of nowhere and his connections with everyone (even security), this attempt is soon stopped and she ends up dead. Saviour comes in an unlikely form of a shoeshine man, who at first seems lost and not very helpful but in a second encounter things start to click. Luckily, a happy ending ensues with Watson killing Walken’s character (which was another potential story fault that I kept thinking would have been what I would’ve tried to do) and the shoeshine man kills his criminal assistant and father and daughter are reunited (although we do see one of the criminal/security men get away in a limousine). In a way, quite a sweet movie about an innocent father who has a loving relationship with his daughter and though he is essentially good and moral, extreme situations place him in basic protective mode, ready to do anything to save his daughter. A great film, I think I’ll be watching it again, although probably not for a while as this is the type of movie that is best on its first suspenseful and surprising viewing.

4.5/5

Soigne Ta Droite! (Keep your right up!) (Jean-Luc Godard, 1987)

Well, I was ready for “a mind-boggling comedy” and well, it sure was! Well, not so much a laugh-out-loud comedy for the most part. Sure, overall it was a refreshing light-hearted film and there were some moments where I was just left with my mouth open. I think most of the credit for my positive impression of the film is due to Jean-Luc Godard who appeared in the film himself, as a director named Prince (referred to in the voice-over as “the Idiot”) who needs to have a film ready for distribution in 24 hours. The film is made up of plenty of sketches, in places such as the plane and on a golf course, as well as meanwhile showing a rock band recording an album. (The rock band is actually Rita Mitsouko − I knew it was familiar, and I found myself singing along to her song “C'est comme ça”, which featured prominently in the film.) 

Apparently, the title "Soigne Ta Droite!" is a phrase used in boxing by the trainer, as well as a play on the name of Jacques Tati’s first short film Soigne ton gauche (Keep your left up). I was actually reminded of Tati in this film, seeing as though a lot of the comedy is physical and Godard was just like a Mr Bean slapstick figure, clumsy and weird and just amusing. I love this scene, where he describes how the Wimbledon  tennis championship has changed:

It is both an experimental as well as a touch of mainstream comedy type of film, as Godard still questions life and death with his philosophical musings. A frequent intertitle that appears is: “On place sur la terre”, which is “somewhere on earth”, adding to the complexity of the film as the characters try to find their place in the world. I’m sure on closer inspection, there is much more material to draw out but I’m content with just watching the absurdity of the film, and the magnificent Godard try his hand at acting as well, to really feel the need to take in more.

3.5/5

The Garden of the Finzi-Continis (Il giardino dei Finzi-Contini) (Vittoria De Sica, 1971)

I am slightly disappointed after such a wonderful experience with de Sica’s previous films. I wasn’t expecting this to be great but still, could’ve been better. I think that because the film was made in 1971 it was lacking some of the neorealist elements that I admired in de Sica’s previous films. For one, there were many kind of corny close-ups when people were talking, with the camera also suddenly quickly zooming in to faces, making us very conscience that we were watching a narrative − I don’t know how much realism is in this. 

Also, there was an overt political context as seen in the conversations − the whole movie was practically about fascism and it wasn’t positive either. Maybe because of the time it was made, with this hindsight, the director was able to almost provide a commentary, whereas films made in the 1940s for instance, were more ambiguous in political nature. Something that reappeared was the element of dark humour, such as when the father of Giorgio lists what Jews are forbidden to do (which violate so many of their rights), before adding something like: “but other than that, we’re lucky”. It almost makes you laugh were it not for the fact it was true. Another instance was when the old, forgetful grandma asks what Giorgio is doing at her home, to which the other lady replies, “Studying”, with the grandma momentarily looking away before asking the same question once again. 

Also, perhaps in the de Sica style, the film ended on a note of uncertainty/sadness, with the Finzi-Continis family taken away with other Jews. Speaking of that family, I also really grew to dislike Micol − just the way she behaved towards the guy who loved her − like playing hard to get but really nice too. She seemed confused about what to do and as a result acted very cruel and unreasonably I thought. I found this film hard to follow, with the different families and all the handsome Italians − who belonged to which family was only made clear as the movie progressed. It just didn’t have as much spark as his earlier films, unfortunately.

2.5/5

Martin Scorsese to make George Harrison doco

Martin Scorsese has announced at Cannes that he and Olivia Harrison have been collaborating on a documentary about Beatles guitarist George Harrison.

It will be called "Living in the Material World: George Harrison" and looks to be ready for a 2011 release.

With the input of George's wife, Olivia, you can expect to have some deeply personal and illuminating (not to mention never-before-seen) material, and with Martin Scorsese, well, you know you're going to have a quality final product.

There's been so much focus on John Lennon and Paul McCartney, I think it's about time we get an insight into the other Beatles members (maybe one day soon we'll get something on Ringo!).

So as a Beatles fan, I'm looking forward to this one!

Honeymoon in Vegas (Andrew Bergman, 1992)

Surprisingly, better than I expected. From the film synopsis I knew it was going to be a light-hearted romance type of film. It had a simple premise: Jack (Nicolas Cage)’s mother dies and leaves him with a fear of getting married after she warns him against it. We gather that he works as some sort of private investigator, spying on partners who are suspected of cheating. Anyway, he has a girlfriend Betsy (Sarah Jessica Parker) who wants to get married. Finally, Jack decides to get married to her and they go to Las Vegas in order to marry. However, Jack plays a game of poker and ends up $65,000 in debt to a wealthy, influential shady character, who demands a weekend with his fiancée to clear the debt (clearly, it was a fixed game). After lots of arguing, Jack and Betsy agree and she goes with the man. He whisks her off to Hawaii and we see he is trying to win her heart, saying that he used to have a wife that she reminds him of. After lots of running around on Jack’s part, and Betsy actually getting close to marrying the man, they are reunited when Jack skydives out of a plane in Vegas and she happens to be running away from the man after reconsidering marriage to him, and of course, they meet and get married straight away. 

Interesting thing I noted, there were plenty of Elvis impersonators and Elvis cover songs on the movie soundtrack (such as “Viva Las Vegas”, which reminded me of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and then of course, the fact that Cage introduced Depp to acting). The fact that Cage dresses as Elvis when he skydives with the group of Elvis impersonators seems like the role was cut out for him − or maybe as an enticement to the role, as I know Cage is a huge fan of the singer. So that does bring up a curious note. But regardless, I think Cage did a great job − he really is a fine actor and very emotional so I don’t know how people can view him as plain and “fake”. Even in a pretty average movie like this, he played his role well.

3.5/5

Pirates of the Caribbean 4 to be made in 3D

BBC report that Disney have decided to film Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides (the fourth film in the series), in 3D.

Not really surprising, given the recent surge in popularity of 3D technology. For many people the third film was pushing it but I guess we won't know until when the film is released (June 2011) if 3D can help to increase the interest in the fourth film.

Nevertheless, I'm a loyal fan of the Pirates of the Caribbean films so I would happily watch it even if it wasn't in 3D.

Le Mépris (Contempt) (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963)

Brigitte Bardot − interesting character yet I feel like she didn’t live up to hype of the film. Yes, sure I can understand her part in the success of the film as Godard’s most commercially successful film (and ironically, her least commercially successful film) as a ‘plaything’ for men. But it just seemed like she wasn’t as, I dunno how to describe it, “in your face”, perhaps? She didn’t really have a dominating presence on screen. 

It’s funny because every time I see a Godard film, it’s like I’m becoming more and more used to his style and techniques, almost so much that I don’t notice them. For instance, his use of long takes and tracking shots (particularly in the house scene when Paul and Camille (Bardot) are walking around in towels arguing, filmed in almost real-time), the framing (how all the furniture in the house is set up so “nicely” for the mise-en-scene), as well as the references to books. I also really liked the use of colour (Brigitte’s yellow hair, red robe, blue ocean, etc). (I love ’60s colours.) At one point when Bardot is talking to, I think it was, Paul, the camera uses this slow tracking shot across, as the camera moves left to right. This shot, with its slow almost what some would call a ‘boring-ish’ quality, reminds me of the supermarket shot in Tout Va Bien!. That’s the classic Godard I know and love. 

Interesting how Jacques Aumont, in his article “The Fall of the Gods”, suggests that although Le Mépris and Federico Fellini’s 8½ are both films about films, in 8½ the “anxiety of creation seems in the end to shake off all material constraints”. Of course, these are two different films at heart, but they do have overarching similarities: the camerawork, use of voiceover narration, as well as the references to the nature of cinema itself within the film (as Aumont states, Godard is “the recognized master of the quotational genre”). Actually, when I was watching 8½, I was immediately reminded of Godard in the way they are both films about films − instantly I thought, “this is like Godard!” − it just struck me like that. And also, actually a closer look will also reveal many similarities. In Le Mépris, when Paul came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel it reminded me of Guido’s toga sequence in 8½ too. (And I found out the fabulous Marcello Mastroianni was also considered for the part of Paul in Le Mépris but was rejected by Godard). So I think there are definitely more similarities (or are they just pure coincidences?) than Aumont claims.

4/5

Bicycle Thieves (Ladri Di Biciclette) (Vittorio de Sica, 1948)

I’m beginning to see an interested trend now. I’ve seen a few Italian neorealist films and with The Children are Watching Us most fresh in my mind, these “realistic” type of films seem to be, well, quite negative. I mean, maybe it’s just Vittorio de Sica but The Children are Watching Us ended with the death of one of the endearing characters and Bicycle Thieves almost ends with jail for the father who tries to steal a bike. More significantly, it occurs in front of his son, who is then bawling while the men who catch him in the act threaten to put him in jail. Maybe it’s just the fact that these films are so far from the happy, fairytale Hollywood endings we’re used to that it seems like it’s too much in the pessimist direction when it may be more realistic. 

Also, I’ve noticed children seem to play a big role in his films. Perhaps compared to Hollywood film, children are just given more attention, which in effect seems to magnify their importance in comparison. It’s interesting also to note the father-son relationship, while we hardly get a glimpse of the mother interacting with her son Bruno. Is this more realistic? Maybe it was more realistic for that time, in Italy. Anyway, it was a good film, cleverly made. 

I particularly like how given the title, you expect there to be some bicycle theft involved (which is actually the whole plot) but the way de Sica puts the audience in suspense is incredible. For instance, when the father is first waiting outside the apartment where his wife has gone to “see a woman”, he is curious to know who she is seeing (turns out to be a psychic of some sorts). So when he momentarily leaves his bicycle, the audience is latterly left squirming as we’re expecting the bicycle to get stole. On top of this, de Sica stretches out the scene as long as possible − we see the couple walking back down the stairs, and the whole time the camera is almost avoiding showing the place where the bicycle was. It is as if he is building up suspense so we see the shocked reaction of the husband when he sees his bicycle is no longer there. However, we’re instead shocked with a pleasant surprise when his bicycle is still standing there, untouched and as an audience we almost feel as if we’ve been tricked. Worth watching.

The Children are Watching Us (I bambini ci guardano) (Vittorio De Sica, 1944)

Wow. That’s all I can say. This film was so powerful and just amazing − a really beautiful, yet sweet tragic tale. And this is due to the characters, the little boy Prico − he was simply endearing and so honest and innocent he made me cry at the end of the film. “She’s gone” − that is the simplicity of the film − no built up complex narrative just the lives of individuals, the almost banal, everyday life of individuals made so significant. I truly understand the concept and power of neorealism after a film like this. The falling apart of a family where the mother, Nina, is still in love with another man, Roberto, causing her husband strife and uncertainty in their marriage − this was believable and nothing out of the ordinary but just so amazingly portrayed. My sympathies truly lied with the young boy and his father but I have to mention the whole “cast” of non-actors, who I believe were remarkable. It really was as if every life is important, the opposite of Hollywood narratives. If anyone, then the child was the main focus but in a way he was also the victim. He was the reason for secrecy and carefulness about what adults said in front of him yet also the cause for them to stay together or stop arguing.

I expected the title to be symbolic but it really worked well and conveyed so much more than I thought it would − this whole film was such an unbelievably surprising experience. Nina leaving at the beginning, well that was a real shock − especially after spending such a wonderful day with her child at the park. So too, was utterly devastating the death (suicide?) of the father at the end. As soon as I saw the people gathered around I knew something was wrong but I would have never guessed it would end this way − such a sad, lost life and definitely no happy ever happy which I was so used to. I guess that made it all the more poignant − the fact the movie end after the young boy “rejects” his mother after being told the news of his dad.

The film was made in two parts, with the second part almost like a new beginning for the family as the father takes them to the beach to try and erase the painful past. A lot of clever camera work too, which I guess I didn’t expect. For instance, at the beginning when there is the meeting of people living in the apartment about the elevator, the camera never cut to a close-up of a particular person, whoever was speaking, but instead there were shots of groups of people in the frame so you could watch the reaction of others. I guess this is what Bazin, preferring the ambiguity of long takes, would have praised. Another sequence, was when the young boy was on the train and hallucinating from a fever about water, the flowerpot he accidentally knocked onto the Paulina’s head, the puppets he saw in the park and his grandmother saying she wanted tranquillity − everything was put together in a sort of montage, I think, but it was a really surreal glimpse into the boy’s mind very skilfully done. Also, in the restaurant, the camera scans across as people on the various tables talk, providing an interesting way of viewing the conversation. I also really admired the shot of the boy running from a drunk (and then the police) on the beach, with the water blurring and his silhouette so beautifully framed − just pure art. 

This film, although tragic, just goes to strengthen my impression that the Italians really know how to do a tragi-comedy. I guess I can say in that way this film is in the same vein as Life is Beautiful, which is also so tragic yet has its subtle, everyday humour. It’s nothing like the exaggerated, obvious humour but everyday real smiles and light moments that just make the events so much more believable. Such as the scene when Prico is trying on a suit for boarding school, we see the sales assistant remove a hat from a boy, who for a moment, I thought was Prico, however we find out it was a mannequin. 

I was cringing during the scene of Prico on the train tracks in the path of an incoming train, I thought to myself, “This can’t be the end of him!” And at least he did survive, his soul, his life, his purity and innocence survive the film, perhaps in the end adding a touch of hope. It is such a moving film which is romantic in a way too and I definitely rate it as a masterpiece to be seen. A real work of neorealism, a real work of life on the screen − I loved it.

4.5/5

Iron Man 2 (Jon Favreau, 2010)

Awesome. That’s what I thought as I walked out of the cinema. (Speaking of, watch until the end credits have finished to get an extra scene). Anyway, few film sequels match up to their original film and after hearing that “the rust was setting in” on the Iron Man franchise, you could almost say I was prepared to be disappointed if that was the case.

It may not be surprising to see I’ve written a positive review of Iron Man 2 but it would have to be a real bad film to get otherwise because firstly, I’m obviously slightly biased when it comes to Robert Downey Jr, which means that I may tend to judge films more on the performance of the main character (which in the case of actors such as Downey, is bound to be positive). Secondly, as I had heard mixed reactions I wasn’t expecting to be blown away and wasn’t going to delude myself if it wasn’t as great as I thought. So I guess I lowered my expectations a little so not surprisingly, this awesome film superseded them.

However, I honestly enjoyed this film. There was action, drama, some sci-fi and even some comedy thanks to Robert Downey Jr’s witty dialogue. (i.e. when Pepper and Tony Stark are talking about the blonde journalist who interviewed him in the first Iron Man. Pepper: “She did a spread on Tony last year.” Tony: “She also wrote an article.” Ooooh!)

I also have to mention the addition of some great actors in this sequel. Besides the fantastic Downey (who seems to just seamlessly be able to slip into any role) and Gwyneth Paltrow’s character Pepper, Mickey Rourke joins the cast as evil Russian Ivan Vanko, as well as Scarlett Johansson (who plays Pepper’s mysterious assistant and is an agent) and Samuel L. Jackson (as Nick Fury).

Contrary to what I was expecting, there actually was a strong plot to build this sequel on. Iron Man 2 begins with Tony Stark not wanting to turn in his suit to the authorities and claims no other country will be able to build the technology for a number of years. There of course, is the problem, as we saw in the first film, it’s not going to be too hard for someone else to eventually replicate the suit’s technology. Tony Stark is not a scientific genius (I think in this case Ivan Vanko is probably closer). So we know that Stark’s technology is not untouchable. So there lies the main crux of the story. Couple that with the rival weapon manufacturer Justin Hammer, who helps release the evil Vanko out of jail to help him build his own iron men, and you’ve got yourself an interesting plot. And fortunately, by the end of the film, Tony is able to invent a new element to get himself one step ahead again. Luckily, too he has a sidekick because it would be really unrealistic for Iron Man to defeat all those drones, in the final battle near the end, singlehandedly (not that the scenario is realistic itself − although maybe in the future).

Interestingly, I noticed that despite Russians often being cast as ‘bad guys’ in many Hollywood action films, Iron Man 2  realistically showed that conflict quite often comes from within as well. In other words, the film presents America as its own biggest enemy. World peace is not a simple thing that can be acquired (unlike perhaps some other superhero films suggest), which I think ultimately makes the plot a lot stronger and believable.

Another thing which probably has helped propel the Iron Man franchise to its amazing success is that it’s essentially about a real guy who becomes a hero − and from then on still remains ‘real’. It’s not a Batman or Superman who has this ‘super’ element inside them − for Tony (yes, although he does have the iron man heart), he is essentially powerless without the iron man suit. Tony Stark clearly has a big ego and loves the attention he gets but he also makes mistakes and has significant character flaws (i.e the amusing scenes of the drunk iron man at Stark’s birthday). He is more accessible and relatable to public (and more broadly, to the audience of the film) through his human personality and charm. So ultimately Tony Stark is not the hero, the suit is. And that makes for a great film.



5/5

The Little Match Girl (La Petite Merchance D’allumettes) (Jean Epstein, 1928)

A slightly haunting film (although the Christensen fable it’s based on isn’t exactly happy) yet interestingly shot. The film took a while to get my attention and then near the end lost it again. I particularly liked the film when the little match girl is hallucinating about being in the toy store:



Some of the characters and effects used were appealing. For instance, the dolls and the toy soldiers were cleverly done. As were the effects of the horses galloping and the little match girl (whose name I believe is Karen)’s hallucinations of Christmas trees. Since I didn’t really remember much about the famous tale, I wasn’t sure what to expect. However, it was a sweet yet tragic little piece that was skilfully adapted into a half-hour film.


3/5

Charleston Parade (Sur un air de Charleston) (Jean Epstein, 1927)

“This is how white Aborigines culture became fashionable in Africa”– the final line that reflects the plain peculiarity of this film. To sum up, it’s about a man whose face is painted black, in a spaceship that lands on an unknown island where he meets a girl, who loves dancing and who teaches him, while in exchange he introduces her to the telephone. When he mentions that she’ll eat him, she replies that “black meat makes me sick”– something I don’t think you’d find in many films today! Funny thing is that it’s set in 2028 but aside from that there isn’t much of a plot. However, we see some interesting editing, with slow motion and speeding up, as well as peepholes that give the impression we can see inside a small enclosed cylindrical room where the girl hides at first. There is a lot of dancing (I was half expecting some accompanying music to start playing in this silent film) but something about that girl just freaks me out and distracts me from the strangely painted black-faced man.

2/5

Sherlock Holmes (Guy Ritchie, 2009)

Better than I expected (and at the least I expected was a pretty good film). With the versatile and talented Robert Downey Jr at the helm of what is another remake, you can be assured of a quality performance. But what made this film rise above the multitude other film remakes is something I’ve been thinking about since I first watched it in the cinema.

First of all, there is a decent plot full of twists and constant conflict which keeps the film moving. The film begins with Sherlock and newly-engaged assistant Watson, played by the quite adept Jude Law, catching the serial killer Lord Blackwood, who appears to be some kind of sorcerer. Having warned Holmes before his hanging, Blackwood then mysteriously rises from the grave and continues his mission. The main storyline follows Holmes and Watson as they attempt to unravel this mystery and stop Lord Blackwood before he can target the British Parliament. There is no lack of material in the storyline and the audience is constantly kept in awe of Sherlock’s skills of observation and deduction.

Downey plays the role of Sherlock Holmes very nicely − he is perfectly suited to the role of a quirky yet charming detective. Add this to a strong supporting cast featuring Jude Law, Rachel McAdams, Mark Strong and Hans Matheson, and you’ve got yourself some great characters.

One of the reasons this film works so well is because it combines so many different elements − there really is something for everyone. You have intriguing characters (well, Holmes is at least), plenty of action (whether explosions or fights, such as the highly entertaining scene when Holmes is fighting in the ring), plenty of humour (both from Holmes’ witty dialogue and slapstick moments), a complex romance (between Rachel McAdams’s character Irene Adler and Holmes), not to mention the strong bond between Holmes and Watson who have a close relationship and act like a bickering married couple at times. The film also gives audiences suspense and mystery, and the way Holmes is able to so brilliantly come to instant conclusions is also a bonus appealing to the audience’s love of discovery (such as learning how to fake death). So there are clearly a lot of reasons to like this film. It combines many different strengths into one engaging and amusing tale - a feat I think is not often achieved in films nowadays.

5/5

Two or Three Things I Know About Her (2 Ou 3 Choses Que Je Sais D’elle) (Jean-Luc Godard, 1966)

Now to a very different type of film. In fact, dubbed as “a leading force of the French New Wave” on the DVD cover. Colour, full of colour. (Not surprising, since it was made in the 60s). I would describe it as a sort of experimental documentary. It mainly followed the main character Juliette as she resorted to working the streets to earn a living. Godard seems to often reference this subject, such as in his film Vivre sa Vie.

In contrast to Italian neorealism (though supposedly French New Wave stemmed form Italian neorealism?), this film was full of voice-overs (mostly whispered), which directed and described the action (such as “She is turning left but it is not significant”), as well as interacted with the character when they addressed the camera. Also, there were colourful (of course!) intertitles and headings about industrial society and class. The film was very political and philosophical and it was challenging to grasp what it was dealing with, but I believe that there is no right way and you can in fact interpret it different ways. It pondered society and its future, time and analysed language and thought. At one point, the voice-over considers “What is art? Form becoming style, but the style is the man. Therefore, art is the humanising of forms.” 

It’s interesting how Godard is commenting on what is happening both inside and outside the film. There were lines from Brecht (“Actors should quote”) and references to someone looking like Chekhov’s daughter or Nanook’s sister (from Robert Flaherty’s documentary Nanook of the North). Also, the Vietnam war made up a lot of the context, with Juliette’s husband listening to a radio about the war and various photographs shown − it reminds me of Tout va bien. Juliette has an interesting discussion with her son about dreams, where he says he dreamt of two twins who turn out to be North and South Vietnam uniting (talk about an intelligent kid!). He then asks his, “What is language, mummy?”, to which she say, “The house man lives in”. This kind of limiting of language is often referred to in the film, as if saying that perhaps images (and thus, cinema) are more capable of describing because with words you have to choose and can’t say everything at once (this is explored in the scene Juliette visits her husband at the garage and the voice-over questions how to describe what is happening − to mention the leaves on the tree?). An interesting phrase which is repeated is “landscape is like a face” − and that really lends itself to many ideas and interpretations.

There was a lot of original camera work (something I can always count on Godard to deliver). For instance, the camera seemed to spend ages in front of characters, like it was almost exhausting and seemed slow and tedious, particularly when the character was soliloquising? with the camera about some philosophical notion. I really began to notice this when Juliette’s husband is sitting near a stranger in a café, waiting for her and the camera is focused on the stranger for what seems a minute or even longer. Then suddenly the husband says, “people never really talk in films” and pretty much dissects what it takes to have a conversation. There is a lot of self-referentiality, as well, and I like how near the beginning, when we see Juliette through the window walking outside, a man starts reading to Juliette’s daughter about a lady walking then “hatching eggs” (quite a coincidence with her street job). I also like how the camera did a 360-degree pan when Juliette was standing among some very modern-looking yet identical apartments (when she made the Chekhov and Nanook references). Also, there were many shots of cranes and construction work − I’m not sure if this is symbolic of a rebuilding of society or hinting at the constituents of life. While Juliette was in the café, a few times the camera cuts to just a CU shot of coffee with the froth almost gone or what looks like coke with bubbles, and we hear talks about the world, with the swirls in the cup almost like a mini cosmic galaxy.

Often when there was music playing, there was no natural atmospheric sound, something which was significant to me, seeing as though in my journalism studies we aim for realism by using diegetic sound − in this instance it gave the film an unreal quality. In addition, Godard inserts a still image of a cartoon strip, later having one of the characters echo this by saying society is like living in a comic strip. Also, I like the scene when we see the two men and what seems like one of them is just picking from a huge pile of books in front of them and reading random lines, which the other man is writing down. It reminds me of the reading from books in Une femme est une femme. In fact, the French are represented as quite well-read, inquisitive, philosophical individuals − no matter what situation they’re in (such as with a customer), they are reading books or pondering life. That’s another feature I find intriguing and although this wasn’t the best Godard film I’ve seen, I still find I’m very biased towards him due to the way he just approaches cinema so unlike any other director I’ve seen.

3.5/5

The 39 Steps (Alfred Hitchcock, 1935)

I think this is the second Hitchcock film I’ve seen (after Birds) and I’m very happy with my experience. Interestingly, I noticed that the act of film itself is often referenced (maybe I’ve been watching too much Godard!), such as at the beginning when Robert Hannay (Robert Donat) asks Annabella if she’s an actress and she says no. Hitchcock is truly the ‘master of suspense’ − I got that just from watching two of his films. It’s amazing how without music (until Pamela realises Hannay’s innocent), Hitchcock manages to build up such tension and excitement. The audience is at an advantage and it’s like you know what the character is feeling and have a sense of what could happen but are never sure until it does. Although there were plenty of excellent surprises. I was just travelling along, getting into the characters, when suddenly the man Hannay believes is on his side, reveals that he has a little finger − that was an “Oh my gosh” moment for me. It was just fabulously done − everything just crashed around me. 

It was an interesting plot about a secret agent, Annabella, who is stabbed at Hannay’s house and as he runs away and is suspected of her murder, he tries to find the person she was looking for, to prevent the secret of The 39 Steps from being revealed. (The 39 Steps turns out to be the name of a group of secret agents). But it’s a great story about an innocent man forced to act as if he is guilty, never knowing who to trust (and often trusting the wrong people). It is both a thriller, as well as a comedy − I doubted this classification labelled on the DVD at first but as the film progressed it all made sense. Some amusing moments, such as physical comedy when Hannay’s escaping with Pamela in handcuffs and they sort of run into the fence (with Pamela going under and Hannay trying to go over). Also, I really liked the scene when they are staying in a Scottish motel and are chained to each other but try to hide it from the motel owners. The motel owner walks out and tells her husband, the young couple are so “in love with each other”, and then we suddenly cut to Hannay and Pamela arguing, trying to break apart. That was a very clever use of juxtaposition of shots, simple but effective. The same goes for when Hannay (still handcuffed) asks Pamela, “can I be of any assistance?” when she tries to take off her stockings, and ends up holding a sandwich for her, after stroking her leg (as his hand was joined to hers). Robert Donat was very entertaining − he just had this simple delivery that was so honest but very light-hearted, particularly when he was sarcastically talking about his life as a murderer, though Pamela believes he is. I really liked his performance, the actor seemed really familiar and quite a charming character − I’m definitely going to look at some of his other films.

After reading articles, such as Laura Mulvey’s "Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema", which talks about feminism and the role of women in films (she focuses on Hitchcock as one of her examples), I can see how this film would relate to some of her arguments − even though it was made in the 1930s, before the article and before any real notions of feminism gained momentum. Interestingly, Hitchcock decides to insert the female character of Annabella, though there is no female in the novel. However, the fact she gets killed off in the beginning of the film was quite unexpected for me. There is a close call when Hannay is shot but survives thanks to a book in his jacket. Also, the humour present when Hannay asks the milkman if he can borrow his clothes to sneak out of his apartment kind of suggests a certain view of females: first he honestly tells the man about the dead woman in his room and the spies waiting outside to which the milkman is clearly not convinced. However, when Hannay rattles off some tale about having an affair with a married woman and the two men outside were her brother and husband, the milkman instantly laughs and offers his clothes, as if to say that is an acceptable act. (I have to say that scene with the two men waiting in the street outside Hannay’s apartment were really freaky, very well done because there was definitely an eerie and unsafe mood set up.

I absolutely love the fact that one of the special features is a PDF copy of the script for the film (looks like the original scanned). Maybe next time I watch this, I will follow with the script because it is just a concrete piece of film before its conception. The other special feature I really liked was the “On Location” segment with Robert Powell, who looked at some of the places the film (plus the two other films of similar names, made later on) was filmed. I think I will look into this program because it’s a great little piece of trivia wonderful for film buffs who want to get that little bit extra about their favourite films. (For instance, he points out how Hitchcock used trains often in his films, which I’m going to try and spot next time I watch one of his films).
So, like I said, after a satisfying first experience, I’m definitely looking forward to watching more of Hitchcock’s work.

4/5

Good Night and Good Luck (George Clooney, 2005)

I’ve been wanted to watch this for a while and though I wasn’t entirely in the mood for watching what I thought would be a hard-hitting, drier type of movie, I am glad to say that it surpassed my expectations and I really enjoyed it. Not only was there a really capable cast (Clooney, Downey and David Strathairn, who really suits the 1950s journo look) but it was semi-documentary, based on true events in journalism and political history. 

It's a black and white film, set in the 1950s, when TV broadcasting journalism was taking off and was about news anchor Edward R. Murrow (Strathairn) and his producer, Fred Friendly (Clooney), along with reporter Joseph Wershba (Downey), who defy corporate and sponsor pressure at the CBS newsroom and report on and editorialise stories about U.S. Senator Joseph McCarthy of Wisconsin. At a time when the threat and fear of communism was high, McCarthy set on a crusade to investigate and get rid of Communist-aligned individuals. Murrow first defends Milo Radulovich, who was facing separation from the U.S. Air Force because of his sister's political leanings and because his father subscribed to a Serbian newspaper. A very public feud develops when McCarthy responds by accusing Murrow of being a communist and digging up some specks of his past that may in some way be interpreted as linked to communism. However, the film ends with the CBS team successfully bringing down Senator McCarthy in what I think is a crucial victory in journalism’s history. 

Other events in the plot include Wershba and his fellow-journalist wife having to hide their marriage to save their jobs (though everyone knows they are married) and the suicide of Don Hollenbeck, who was accused of being a Communist. The film is mostly a large flashback, bookended by a speech given by Murrow to the Radio and Television News Directors Association in 1958, in which Murrow harshly cautions his audience about ignoring the potential of television to inform and educate the public. 

It’s interesting how Clooney portrays a journalist as I have read his dad was a TV journalist (so maybe it’s a way of getting to live out that other dream, although apparently he was a broadcaster at one point but quit his job to avoid competition with his father). The film's tone, the fact it's shot  in black and white, as well as its depiction of one of journalism's greatest victories really presents it as a nostalgic film, that seems to lament what journalism used to be. Anyway, this film is definitely worth watching and I’ll be sure to have another look at it in the future.

4/5

Roma, Citta Aperta (Open City) (Roberto Rossellini, 1945)

Acclaimed as “Europe’s first post-war masterpiece” on the DVD cover, I was curious to see whether this neorealist classic would live up to my expectations. And after having only watched Journey to Italy, it’s clear that I didn’t have a strong Rossellini foundation upon which to judge this movie– so this was going to be the one which would decide once and for all if I was a fan of R.R. And the verdict is: it was worth watching. The film took a while to engage me but once it did it was intriguing. It was a good taste of neorealism and I am particularly attracted to the dynamics of acting involved, where the whole ensemble proved as important together, rather than one main “star” performer. This is also seen in the way Pina, the widowed mother we meet at the beginning, is shockingly killed half-way into the film. Thus, we are left without the ‘protagonist’ but only then do we see the importance of the priest and the other cast members − and I use the term “cast” loosely, as it was a very natural, unscripted type of impression. The film really brings home the hard truth of death, which can happen to anyone − something largely ignored in Hollywood films and the classic films at the time. 

On the topic of time, the film was made at the end of the war and got me thinking about how films were made at times of national emergency and danger. There would be plenty of risks involved when filming. Nevertheless, I think the film gave me a good experience of an Italian film that is unlike most movies I have watched and it deserves the legacy it has. I didn’t know what to expect with Italian neorealism − it almost seemed like an oxymoron. Aren’t Italians the culture known for their dramatic, over-the-top, theatrical hand gestures, expressions and just their vivid tone of voice? In this film the individuals seemed toned down a lot of the time, well in comparison with the Italians I know. (Also, on the note, I have to admit I was confused when I first saw the Gestapo, as he spoke Italian I wasn’t sure who’s side he was on initially. It’s funny how that’s often not the case in Hollywood films, where everyone usually speaks the native language of the film and so  you can just sense the evil of “the other side”.) However, I saw the true “Italianism” shine through in animated scenes of anger throughout the movie and it sort of made it more believable I suppose. 

The dialogue was actually quite poignant. (Though it annoyed me that not every line was subtitled). There were more light-hearted moments, sort of a light and shade film, such as when the priest is with the paralysed man and the audience realises he hit the man over the head to shut him up. And there were the usual themes such as love vs. money, with Pina’s luxury-loving sister declaring she loved no one. Also, since I watched the version mastered from the 35mm archive print, I have to say the film kept its newsreel-footage quality, as well as some interesting camera work. In particular, the scene with the priest and the boy hastily walking up the stairs away from the advancing Germans, with the camera becoming very shaky and almost spinning around as we view them from below − it really added to the tension. Another different aspect was the music which just cut off in certain scenes, instead of fading away. Overall, it was clearly a film with many appealing elements that combined to give a glimpse into what life may have been like for these people of Italy in World War II.

3.5/5

Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941)

Well, this was a refresher − a look back at a film that I first watched many years ago when I must admit, it wasn’t memorable as an entertaining film. But, happy to say that I enjoyed it much more this time around (and not only because of my increased passion for the media industry, although this film doesn’t show the industry in the most positive light anyway). Basically the story begins with news of the death of Charles Foster Kane, million-dollar publisher. We see what is a news story about it that provides a good background to his life. However, most of the film focuses on a reporter from Kane’s own The Inquirer newspaper talking to his best friends and ex-wife and butler, etc, trying to find out what “rosebud” means to Kane. (I say “story” because there isn’t that much of a plot – it makes me think of Gilles Deleuze’s idea of the time-image and neorealist films). Rosebud is of course, the last word Kane said before he died and dropped the snowglobe on the floor in this famous scene:



The film ends when we see a sled with the word “Rosebud” on it being burned. So the whole film is kind of like a jigsaw (what second wife Samantha is seen doing near the end of the film − clearly a metaphor) full of flashbacks that are intertwined as the reporter speaks to each of the characters. We never find out the significance of Rosebud − it was on the sled which we see earlier when he’s still a young boy living with his parents (so like neorealism, there isn’t really any resolution and we just get a glimpse of what is happening, how life is unravelling). Though the fact that the audience is privy to this last clue kind of takes it away from neorealism, where both the audience and characters are living and experiencing the moment as it comes. Anyway, this makes for an interesting way of telling the story, and I would assume quite a novel technique for that time (arguably a precursor to neorealism, which would make perfect sense).

But I can see the “realism” André Bazin points out in  “An Aesthetic of Reality: Neorealism”, from his book What is Cinema? Vol II. There is use of depth of focus, such as in the scene where his second wife Samantha overdosing on medication and we see Kane enter the room in the background (in focus), as well as the bottle of medication in the foreground (also in focus). In addition, there are long takes without cutting that show what I would call the “banal”, or everyday, (well, as "everyday" as you can get for a millionaire media mogul). These include instances of individuals talking where we only get one camera angle for a while. Even though there are plenty of fades used, the scene where Samantha is putting together pieces of a puzzle can be compared to these actionless, banal moments − we still get a sense of that even though the fade is being used. It seems natural and not as manipulated in a way.

By the way, I have to say Orson Welles’ acting was really convincing − Kane is a complex yet convincing character (not too mention sort of handsome when he’s young − he ages badly). The audience kind of feels for him at moments but then again we’re repelled by his need to have everyone love him, “on his terms”. So we’re kind of like the public in the film − love him and hate him. In effect, this is a film about love as much as about power and definitely an intriguing peek at the media industry too (and all the ethics of objectivity and honesty). Classic.

4/5

Tout va Bien (Everything’s alright) (Jean-Luc Godard and Jean-Pierre Gorin, 1972)

A great film that has really established Jean-Luc Godard as one of my favourite filmmakers. Something that featured prominently in this film was the amazing camerawork. I’m always intrigued by unique and original camera movement and angles, which this film had plenty of − it shows an “out of the box” way of thinking from Godard. Instances of this were in the supermarket scene, when the camera was tracking from left to right as the journalist character played by Jane Fonda walked along the cash registers and at the beginning in the factory, we see a cutaway of all the rooms, as if we were watching the separate areas of a doll house (remind me of Jacques Tati’s Playtime − another film I admire for it’s ingenuity). In addition, there were monologues by the main characters as if they were being interviewed by the camera and when certain people spoke they may not have even been in the frame, or hidden behind someone else, such as the times when the characters on the screen were almost frozen looking at the speaker who was off camera. Although the longer the takes were, the sort of more frustrating it became at times but overall I like this approach and think it very effective and memorable. The film dealt with a variety of topics, from the strike at the sausage factory, to tension in the marriage between the journalist and her filmmaker husband, as well as their respective professions. So with an unforgettable first impression, Tout va Bien becomes one of my favourite films of all times for its cleverness, simplicity and entertainment value.

I also really liked the special features on the DVD too, including interviews with directors, as well as Letter to Jane (1972) Jean-Luc Godard and Jean-Pierre Gorin’s 52-minute postscript to Tout va bien, 1972 video interview excerpt with Jean-Luc Godard, new video interview with Jean-Pierre Gorin, and a 40-page booklet with essays by film critics J. Hoberman and Kent Jones, and Godard biographer Colin MacCabe, plus excerpts from a 1972 interview with Gorin and Godard.

4.5/5

Tim Burton's coming to town!

Just thought I'd mention the fact my favourite director, Tim Burton, is coming to Melbourne in June to coincide with his exhibition at ACMI (Australian Centre for the Moving Image).

Tim Burton: The Exhibition will be on show from 24th June to 10th October, direct from the The Museum of Modern Art, New York, with the director also flying down to Melbourne to appear at two discussion sessions open to the public.

The exhibition will feature over 700 works, including paintings, drawings, puppets, costumes, storyboards and film from Burton's various projects over the years.

ACMI's hosted a number of interesting and popular exhibitions, such as Pixar: 20 Years of Animation and Game On (and just the other day I went to see Adam Elliot's Mary and Max exhibition), though I think Burton's exhibition could attract the biggest attendance yet.

It's great to see ACMI drawing such international names and exhibitions to Melbourne, and similarly to last year with the National Gallery of Victoria's popular Salvador Dali exhibition, I think the Tim Burton retrospective will provide an invigorating boost for Melbourne's cultural scene.

Alice in Wonderland (Tim Burton, 2010)

This review was originally written on March 4th, 2010 on my other blog, with some comments I’ve added since then:

"Curiouser and curiouser."

That's exactly how I'd describe Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland. Today it was released in Australian cinemas and of course, being in the vicinity of a cinema, I couldn't resist going in and watching Johnny Depp's latest work of brilliance. Seriously, that man can put in a quality performance, no matter what role he's playing. I knew this was going to end up as one of my favourite movies − my favourite actor and director teaming up again in a film based on one of my favourite stories − so that's already a recipe for success.

Nevertheless, I cast my critical eye over it as soon as I walked out of the theatre. Firstly, of course, the stand-out performance is Depp. Mia Wasikowska − well, I was glad to have a Polish-Aussie girl (like me) up there on the international big screen. It was such a great opportunity for her but you have to admit, casting Depp in the role of the Mad Hatter is going to steal the limelight − just a little bit. Wasikowska played the part of Alice well, but ultimately it's Depp's performance that will make a bigger impact. (Oh and I have to mention the dance he does at the end − completely mad/unexpected/entertaining!)

The casting for the film was quite good − with Burton's partner Helena Bonham Carter as the big-headed (literally!) Red Queen, Anne Hathaway as the extremely pale White Queen, Matt Lucas as the amusing Tweedledee/Tweedledum, Alan Rickman as the voice of the Blue Caterpillar and Stephen Fry as the Cheshire Cat. Plus, the wonderful danny Elfman as composer. I have to say, the music in Alice in Wonderland was very reminiscent of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. After I watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, I just had to get the soundtrack − that's how big of an impact it had on me. However, with Alice in Wonderland, well it just wasn't as good (but still pretty good! :D).

The environment was also really engrossing for me − I just love the worlds Tim Burton creates. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was amazing. Although not as colourful and vivid as maybe the book might have described, Underland (that is what it's actually called) has a dark, Gothic touch to it. I could just sit in a cinema for hours on end, simply watching images from Burton's imagined worlds.

So I guess that brings me to the actual plot. As a matter of fact, this is probably my biggest criticism (if I were to be really critical). Because the film is not actually a remake of the novel 'Alice in Wonderland' (but more of a combination of that novel and Lewis Carroll's lesser known sequel 'Through the Looking-Glass'). I felt it didn't have that same magical effect as perhaps a remake of the first novel might have. Watching this film made me really nostalgic and I have the sudden urge to re-read the novel and watch all earlier versions of the film. However, the fact that it's Alice's second visit and this time she has to slay a Jabberwock (the Red Queen's dragon), just made it stray less from children's story to more of an experimentation/action film.

Anyway, even though I suppose this review has pretty much highlighted more problems than positives of Alice in Wonderland, you can be sure that it is worth watching − even just to see it from Burton's perspective.

4/5