Night of the living dead directed by George A. Romero – A Film Review

Few films can be said to be truly influential, never mind influencing the creation of a whole new film subgenre. George Romero’s 1968 classic stands up even to this day as a gritty and wildly inventive horror movie. Even now others still hold a debt of gratitude to this work including such acclaimed works as Edgar Wright’s Shaun Of The Dead (2004), or even the Robert Kirkman comic series The Walking Dead (2003 – present) and it’s subsequent television adaption (2010- present) of the same name.

Overall, Night of the Living Dead has quite a simplistic plot really. The story follows a young woman visiting the grave of her father with her brother. However when they are mysteriously attacked in the cemetery, Barbra is forced to flee on her own. Eventually she stops at an old farmhouse, which seems abandoned. There she meets a group of survivors who are eventually trapped by a group of creatures outside and they attempt to think of ways to escape.

With the zombies aside, the film in its execution of exposition and character development is in fact rather subtle. The acting is held back and realistic with characters carefully assessing their situation. There is no over the top screaming or shouting that seems out of place. Yet even though there is one point where the character of Barbra is in a state of shock because her brother is missing that borders on being hammy, in reflection, considering what is going on she would be perfectly entitled to be in such a state of hysteria.

Another important thing to mention is how such small developments really help the film. The news reports that the characters watch on television are serious and have an unexpected feeling of realism to them. The images of the rednecks walking across the country in vast groups speak well to the reality of American gun culture. The point being that it makes you believe and invest in what it’s trying to show you through it’s references to the real world and how such a horror may be dealt with in reality.

With this it is also important to mention that the creatures themselves have a certain nightmarish quality to them. Zombies are the animated bodies of the dead that feed on the living. They walk and stumble in a manner that taken out of context could seem quite humorous, yet this is never the case. The reason being that no matter how slow they are, no matter how clumsy or irregular their movements may seem, they are always a threat to the protagonists.  It isn’t the way they look that is so frightening about the creatures in this horror film. There's no Frankenstein’s monster and at a distance they could be mistaken for humans (as they are in fact by Barbra and her brother early on in the movie). They are simply led by instinct, they have no thoughts or abilities to reason – they simply consume.

And above all that is what makes them so scary. Perhaps that is what makes the entire film so scary. There are no recognizable film stars here, no one to root for simply because of their name or face. This film is only characters and more to the point, people; regular people with families, a young couple and two other young adults alone in the group, and they have to come up solutions. Yet in the end it’s their petty squabbling that gets most of them killed. Selfish decisions combined with their unreasonable attitudes lead each of these characters to their fates.

The only figure here that could be described in any way as heroic is the African American character of Ben, but even a search and rescue party of rednecks shoots him in the end. Much has been made of this and it’s reference to American racisms at the time of the civil rights movement. As the same similarities were pointed out between the grotesque and gruesome images of the film and the news footage of the war in Vietnam – with both also being filmed in a similar rugged and granny black and white style. Whether these things were intentional conscious decisions or subconscious, or even coincidental is up for debate, but it is hard to deny these similarities.

Every time you go back to a work of art there is something that usually comes to mind and hits you in the same way that reminds you of your first viewing. That unique feeling that it gave and continues to give you that brings you back again and again. For me, that moment is the end of this film. When Ben is killed there is a powerful feeling of injustice. You really feel sickened by what has happened to a character that we have grown to care about. But it doesn’t stop there. We are then shown after his death the hideous treatment of his body as he is tossed around like a piece of furniture. All of this is done strangely enough through a series of stills, which really forces you as a viewer to pay attention to what is happening in front of you. Again, the stills in your mind give you another layer of realism where in which, if we can see these actions happening before us, then maybe it really did happen. Of course it didn’t, but in the same way a nightmare is horrifying whilst you are experiencing it, Night of the Living Dead brings about a similar emotional intensity in it’s viewer.

The 39 Steps directed by Alfred Hitchcock – A Film Review

Before his move to Hollywood, Alfred Hitchcock had already established himself as an internationally recognized filmmaker. Yet to this day, it seems often that his British films are over looked and swept aside in comparison to the critical acclaim presented to some of his American classics.

That is not to say that some of these films haven’t received venerable recognition. The 39 Steps (1935) for example is one of the films that is said to define his early career. Featuring many of the Hitchcock tropes: an innocent man accused of a crime he didn’t commit, running as he is perused by both the law and the criminal / criminals responsible. It is a suspense thriller in the sense of which Hitchcock was most known for. But how does it stand up in viewing today?

Well the story itself has aged well. The setup stands alone in a timeless way. Even though the crux of the story involves the selling of government information to international spies, the information is overall incidental. It is simply the McGuffin (a driving force that has very little meaning in relation to the overall story).

The presentation of the film does at times however feel dated. Shots often seem structured in a flat manner. Scenes transition over long fades and at times characters end their dialogue abruptly to advance the plot. In the end it gives the story a feeling of artifice that isn’t wanted or needed that really takes the audience out of the film at varying periods during their viewing.

Still the acting overall in the film is a good standout. Other than leading man Robert Donat who plays a Canadian with a London accent, (which is strange because the actor himself is from Manchester?) yet apart from this everyone at least gives a strong performance.

With these issues aside, the directing of the film definitely had hints to the abilities of its director. The final scene and an earlier scene in a hotel are certainly effective uses of suspense. These scenes are defiantly the strong point of Hitchcock’s direction and easily stand out as such. As he develops these set pieces he is able to craft scenes together in a very artistic and eloquent manner that does at times feel lacking in some of the quieter or even subtler moments. In scenes of heavy dialogue it almost seems as though the actions screech to a complete halt that provide lulls for the audience. The expository manner of these instances is something that brings the film down and is certainly improved on in his latter American works. 

The Catcher in the Rye by J.D Salinger – A Book Review

It’s a novel that has as many critics as plaudits, with a history of suggested inspiration and influence as murky and ostensibly questionable as the book itself. For some it is an exploration of teenage angst, others see it as a study of an outsider in the form of self-reflection. However, to others still it is a banal narcissistic interpretation of teen rebellion and pseudointellectual expression.

The story follows Holden Caulfield’s recount of the previous year and experience of being expelled from a prep school. Throughout the story we discover different aspects to the personality of this cynical teenager. He seems unable to settle into the constructs of social groups: rebelling against the conventions for little to no reason, with this being one of the main driving forces of the reader’s interests. We question his views and how he came to see the world in this way: as the protagonist does too at times throughout the novel.

It is easy to write off this story as a negative and un-relatable account of a privileged child rebelling against his position. But to say as much is to do the novel an injustice and an ignorance to the delicately laid information on the development of his behavior and the unconscious relation it has to events in his past. In the novel, Holden often discusses how he feels distance to his environment and in particular his teachers and peers. This distrust comes from what he describes as people acting or speaking of a subject in a “phony” way. It is however, not so much the people he comes into contact with that annoy him, it is furthermore the fact that he feels an obligation to mirror this behavior in order to maintain a regular exterior composure. In fact it is this psychological conflict, which often causes the problems for Holden. This can be seen in the novel when he states, “I am always saying "Glad to have met you" to somebody I'm not at all glad I met.”

Although this shows his rebellious attitude towards others it doesn’t necessarily explain where this reason of thinking comes from. It is at this point a lot of critics have inserted that the novel is aggressive against the banal. A false display of rebellion for the sake of it, because - why not? This unfortunately comes from a misreading of the book as the novel does, throughout, subtly hint at reasons for his abrasive behavior.

At points we are given small pieces of information on Holden’s past. We discover in this time that a few years ago his younger brother Allie died under unknown circumstances. When discovering this he smashed up his parent’s garage and is in the hospital during the funeral. There are certain hints that he has never been able to accept his brother’s death. An underlying anger seems to stem in his subconscious, laid out like a raw nerve. When talking to his younger sister Phoebe he lashes out when his brother is brought up, “I know he's dead! Don't you think I know that? I can still like him, though, can't I? Just because somebody's dead, you don't just stop liking them, for God's sake--especially if they were about a thousand times nicer than the people you know that're alive and all.”

There is a raw bitterness that he allows to slip here. A definite connection is hereby revealed that the death of his brother has a direct correlation to his opinions and cynicism towards others.

Other events have also affected his distrust of private schools and other institutions. There is a mention of a child at one point who was beaten to death by a group of other students in retaliation to an insult. The significance of this event sticks into the mind of Holden, as it was not only him that found the boy but also the fact that he was wearing a jumper of Holden’s. Not only does Holden not understand the brutality of this event, he is unable to justify the punishment of the school, which, rather than allowing their name to be mentioned in relation to such an incident in the press, chooses instead to simply expel those responsible.

Holden it seems is cut off from all those he loves. His family is all to some extent distanced from one another. His older brother D.B is a writer in Hollywood and his parents have sent him to numerous boarding schools. It appears that his main problems in life come from his suppression of emotional issues from his past. This built up anger seems then to stem from his lack of confrontation with these problems.

Towards the end of the novel at least he appears to recognize this. During a conversation with a former teacher of his Mr Antolini, he suggests to Holden that, “Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them—if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you.”

Overall I think this quote sums up the novel as a whole. This isn’t the story of a fantastical character, in fact at times he’s damn near unlikable. But the truth is the character himself recognizes this. Here we are faced with the story of a psychologically troubled teenager. Holden is in a state of transition and has reached a crossroads in his life. Yet, even towards the end of the story the way his life is going to turn out is kind of left vague. And to a degree, I believe it would be right to say that some people really don’t like this. The openness of the ending to some feels really off putting after reading through the novel. They can expect some kind of transition on a real visceral level however such an encompassing conclusion never comes. Instead what we are left with is more complex than that. To truly find the answer to what may happen to Holden you have to really look deeper at the text. In this you will see that Holden is in a state of transition. Within the context of this stories metanarrative, Holden may in fact be trying to throughout the writing and examination of his past be as Mr Antolini put it, keeping a record of his troubles in an attempt to learn from them.

All things considered, The Catcher in the Rye isn’t a novel about teen angst. Nor is it a sermon of the unmotivated. It is in fact a simple story, the story of a young man who causes his own problems and is in a not so direct manner, slowly attempting to correct his behavior. Whether the protagonist himself is likable or not is debatable, what isn’t nonetheless is the fact that the true connection to the novel comes from his attempts to deal with these issues - or as others may feel, a lack of such. 

Elephant directed by Alan Clarke – A Review

Alan Clarke (1935 - 1990) was a British television, film and theatre director known for his realist / minimalist style. His works tended to focus on the struggles of the working class and various social injustices from his borstal drama Scum (1977, and its remake in 1979), to Made in Britain (1982) and the focus of this review Elephant (1989).

Elephant focuses on “the troubles” of Northern Ireland by showing us a number of political assassinations without any preceding backstory. The made for television short stands out for its candid look at violence from an unbiased, yet voyeuristic perspective. We see victims; killers and bystanders pass through different scenes as an assassination comes to fruition. One after another the scenes seem to regurgitate with more and more violence, and as this happens, you begin to realise as a spectator a level of disgust and repulsion to these actions rising in you.

In each scene after a murder has taken place, the camera cuts back to the victim lay on the floor. Clarke in doing so is forcing his audience to look at the repercussions of these heinous actions. At the time of its production, people could talk about how they didn’t know what was really happening in Northern Ireland, however this film strips away the viewers silent spectatorship, forcing them (at least theoretically) to look upon these atrocities face to face.

No longer now a spectator, the viewer feels a strong compulsion for the violence to stop, yet it continues. The use of Steadicam here also adds to the piece as the audience follows the characters step for step. We are not at a distance through out the film, were practically within breathing space. In a way, from a craft perspective this really helps to bring the audience into this (what many would describe as a foreign) environment. If the piece had been filmed on tripod conventionally, we would be looking at things from a more safe and static on looking perspective. Yet as the camera moves on Steadicam we have a moving perspective, one that gives us a feel and investment in the environment around us. As the background moves around us it gives a more realistic feeling to the space. When background moves here there is a level of substance to it, a tangible element that gives it a more realistic feel. In contrast a still image highlights just the subject, which gives a level of theatricality about it: a highlight in a way that doesn’t come natural and at times may feel false or disjointed.

As the film comes to an end there is a certain level of relief. Although by this point the tension has reached such a height that there is no real feel of release at this conclusion. Instead what you're left with is an uncomfortable feeling that this was but a small dramatic portrayal of the real horrors that took place. This film without a doubt ousts a powerful message to the audience. The elephant in the room has now been acknowledged and is opened up to audience discussion.

Whilst as a political document it may be slightly dated today, as a film the work is still an outstanding piece and a stand out in the cannon of British films. In someone else’s hands, Elephant could have been a political drama that bared little relevance to the actual societal subject. But in the hands of Alan Clarke, the film remains to this day an influential piece of television. Going on in later years to inspire filmmakers of the like of Gus Van Sant: who latter went on to make his own Elephant (2003).

ParaNorman directed by Sam Fell and Chris Butler – A Film Review

In recent years Hollywood animated movies have began to experiment with more adult and grown up themes. No longer are they seen as simple entertainment aimed at keeping children quiet, but now aim to please across generations of the audience. Films like Shrek (2001) and Toy Story (1995) contained references in both the story and design in relation to their adult viewers. Yet even in these films at times, there seems to be a particular hyperactivity to the pace, a quick cut, fast action style in order to keep the young primary target audiences attention. In a way, ParaNorman (2012) is one of the few animated movies to let the story set the pace.

At times, ParaNorman feels like an indie comedy. With the film beginning with a slow mellow pace to it which, in turn allows it to build the characters at a more naturalistic pace. Characters are introduced at first appearing as the usual caricatures. However, as the film develops you begin to see more of them than first meets the eye. The characters feel natural (at times real – almost) and it’s unusual to say that about an animated family movie.

Although the film is pitched to the audience as a comedy, there’s a real respect and patience in building on dramatic plot points. The jokes are here of course (for adults as well as children) but this really isn’t what separates ParaNorman from other family animated features. In fact, it is unusual in a way that this comedy is defined by its serious dramatic moments.

The film really builds on its characters unlike many comedy films. In a way the film owes a certain debt to Spielberg’s early films and in particular The Goonies (1985). But even these films by comparison are quite conventional and safe. With ParaNorman taking some plot swerves, which you really wouldn’t expect.

The themes here are really quite serious - with the idea of the outsider and the small communal reaction to such a thing. But it goes fervour than this as the film begins to relate itself to the town’s puritan past and its celebration of a witch burning. Here they don’t shy away from this, there is a real confrontation with innocence being persecuted because of societal fear of difference. This is something that I found to be very brave for a family film to deal with – the possibility of extreme outcomes to fear, which extenuates to outward aggression. In turn this parallels with Norman’s dealings with the towns people who look on him as strange because he can speak with dead people.

Overall, I believe this is what the film is fundamentally about. It’s not about visual spectacle; it’s not about the comedy or even to some extent the characters. In this way it could have very easily come across as heavy-handed but because of the craft of the story and narrative this was never the case. In fact, it is important to mention that if it wasn’t for the animation being so visually appealing or the characters being so relatable, (and the actors fulfilling their roles as such) then the film would have been no where near as impactful with its narrative themes.

In truth, because the movie is so engaging it could be discussed all day. Not forgetting to mention that the film has probably the first openly gay character in a family animated film – or the fact that his physique and attitude go completely against distasteful social stereotypes. The point isn’t played up and is only dispelled in what could arguably called a throw away line at the end of the film only goes to show the movies maturity not to dwell on information that overall, has very little significance. The filmmakers should be largely applauded for their achievements and decisions in making this film. What they have managed to achieve somehow is a very intelligent, funny, at times serious film, which is able to extend itself to an unthought-of cross age appeal.

Wreck-it Ralph Directed by Rich Moore – A Film Review

American animation has been dominated in recent years (in cinemas) by two animation companies: DreamWorks and Pixar. So when an animated film comes from another studio it is always interesting to see how they are going to take visuals and story telling differently. Wreck-it Ralph (2012) comes from Disney’s animated studios which, although in the past having a monopoly over cinemas animated features, they have certainly had a sketchy record as of late.

Directed by Rich Moore who previously worked on such animated shows as Futurama (1999 - present), The Simpsons (1989 - present) and cult favourite Drawn Together (2004 - 2008), helms this film about a bad guy who just wants to be good for a change. Ralph himself is a video game character in an arcade game and has always been the villain. When the arcade closes all of the other characters go home to their apartments while Ralph lives alone in a dump. At an anniversary party for his game, Ralph interrupts and an argument ensues. In this everyone accuses him of being mean for constantly destroying things; unaware he has to do this for their game to continue. During this procession Ralph is told he can live with the others if he gets a heroes medal.

This then sets up the rest of the film with Ralph attempting to prove he is good while others stand in his way. It’s a basic adventure story in many ways. Yet the characters seem to have a real flare about them here. There’s times when the humour is slightly childish but the characters feel genuine to the story. There is growth and development as Ralph meets other characters including those from games no longer in circuit. Others appear hostile, yet some remain friendly. Vanellope (Sarah Silverman) is a glitch that wants to be a racer in a Super Mario Kart like game. Although they don’t get along at first, there feelings begin to grow to more positive towards another. At first acting antagonistic, eventually they decide to help one another to try and achieve each other’s goals.

Although this so far may just seem to outline a basic action adventure, it is in fact the character relations and the animator’s love for video games and the world they have created that puts it beyond this. Even with an at times, casual use of childish humour, the film stands out for the whole family.

Again, even though the structure of the narrative is very basic, this kind of structure can (and does) at times work to a stories advantage. Wreck-it Ralph wont change cinema as an art form, it wont change animation or storytelling in general, but what it does is tell a story well, and with enough passion and sentiment to make even the most cynical of us give it a recommendation.

Django Unchained directed by Quentin Tarantino – A Film Review

Like him or loathe him, Quentin Tarantino is a filmmaker who gets audiences talking. His films have always been controversial, from Reservoir Dogs (1992) and it’s similarities with Ringo Lam’s City On Fire (1987), to his latter works such as Kill Bill vol.1 and 2 (2003-2004) and Inglorious Bastards (2009) have attracted much debate.

It has to be said that he has faced some truly unfair criticism over the years. These culls have been aimed at his use of violence in films, an over enthusiastic use of dialogue and his personal comments during interviews. But why are these issues? Violence has been represented in film since the very early years of its inception. What is it then that makes Tarantino’s take on it so different. I believe this comes from the way violence forms out of his scenes. Casual conversations can lead to bloodbaths in the world of Tarantino. At the tip of a hat, violence can rear its ugly head and this visibly unnerves some people. Compare this to another director, Alfred Hitchcock for example was known for his use of suspense. In a suspense film we are warned of the possibility of unwanted violent action, in fact, it is the time between the revelation of an event and its conclusion (the moments of tension) that is referred to in terms of suspense.

In fact if you look at one of Hitchcock’s most controversial scenes of violence from the film Psycho (1960), in the shower scene, the character of Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) is cleansing herself after deciding to give the money back that she had previously stolen. However, it is this moment of redeemed calm that the violent outburst of killer Norman Bates comes into play. Here, like the violence in a Tarantino film was sudden and for lack of a better word, violent. It violates the comfort of the visual spectacle, taking the viewer out of the story and into a sub film, a film within a film, a self contained action that seems forced into the progressive narrative.

Besides, no one is forced to view these works. Of the people who complain of his works they have no need to view them. Yet to digress, the subject of this review is Django Unchained (2012), not Quentin Tarantino as a filmmaker.

Django Unchained is a western in the style of Italian spaghetti westerns. Its serious, brooding and suffers from violent outbursts. But the story is steeped in a violent past. Concerning a protagonist who is a freed former slave seeking revenge against those who once tortured him. Another concern of his is the rescue of his wife who has been sold to another plantation.

Its subject is large in scale and is still a sensitive issue in America to this day. Django in many ways works as a revenge fantasy striking out against the real horrors of the time. Django is a sort of avatar for the audience entering into the time of the pre-civil war American south. He has seen, as we see, the horrors of this place and suffers from its violent outbursts. With this he seeks revenge against a group of people the audience hate (southern plantation owning slavers).

In many ways its similar to how Inglourious Bastards (2009) was a fantasy for Jewish people lashing out against Nazi oppression, Django fills this same void in the avenue of an entertainment spectacle. The violence here is both oppressive and freeing justice, to put it simply, it is a basic attempt to play out serious issues as a sort of morality story (Django good guy, slavers bad guys) and it never gets any fervour than that.

There are hints of more of course, Dr King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) as Django’s mentor and bounty hunter teacher hints at more depth. As a former dentist and his understanding of the English language show that he has had some sort of classical education. He is also latter offended when hearing at a slave plantation the works of Beethoven on a harp, so we know he has an understanding of classical music. But we never find out why or how he came to America, or how he went from being a dentist to becoming a bounty hunter. These pieces of information on there own hint at a complete character but alone are relatively vague and unnecessary. Compare this to in Pulp Fiction (1994) when Jules relates a phrase he said early in the film to a robber he has at gun point and himself in terms of the path of a righteous man. This in a way helps to bring the film full circle and relates a phrase he use to say because he thought it was cool, to him now contextualising this information in relation to himself and his situation.

It’s the loose ends in Django that derives the film from its possible emotional impact. The film is quite distorted at times. Some scenes have little correlation to the overreaching narrative. Scenes are set up to seemingly add depth to characters however they are left with no follow up. One scene has Dr Schultz discussing the importance of fulfilling a bounty no matter what your emotional disposition may tell you. In the process Django kills a man on a small farm at distance, however, after the gunfire’s a small boy runs to the laying body. Never again is this idea of hesitation discussed again or even put into the action of a scene.

Characters and story arcs are dropped or feel at times as though left undeveloped. One of the defining aspects of the film is the relationship between Django and Schultz, although there is never really any development between the two of them. When they meet, Schultz frees Django and they become friends, but from there nothing really progresses between them. This distinct lack of growth stands out as in road trip/ adventure films when new characters meet; there is usually some sort of bond formed. This in latter scenes develops between scenes where the characters help one another or slowly begin to gain each other’s trust (or lose said trust). In this they make a switch from being strangers to friends, which, in the audiences minds strengthens their bond to them.

Like the characters, the audience also travels upon these journeys, and as we are voyeurs in this situation we associate ourselves with the characters on screen. But if there is a lack of situations where characters (as I have previously stated) can strengthen their bond it limits how relatable characters can be to the audience.

Another problem that was frustrating was the fact that once Django found his wife; he discovered that she had been previously trying to escape before he came to her plantation. Nevertheless, in a latter gunfight his wife has the opportunity to escape when she is left alone in a room, but instead she chooses to stand still waiting to be rescued. This goes aggressively against what we have previously heard about here. More than that, it has belittled a possibly interesting and courageous female character into the damsel in distress stereotype.   

Loose threads like this are really scattered all over the film. Schultz’s character is a former dentist, a German man in America, and an educated man at that. At one point in a plantation he is offended when he hears Ludwig Van Beethoven’s Für Elise being played on a harp – so we know he has an understanding of classical music. But how, how has this educated German man ended up in the south, as a bounty hunter? It is not as though he is poor and financial limits caused an ill disposition, he appears to choose to do so. Why? Well, the film provides no answers.

To be entirely fair, there are enjoyable points and sequences in Django Unchained. But the biggest problem remains that none of the overreaching narrative really joins together and in the end, it feels as though the script needed a bit more redrafting before production. Points needed connecting or cutting. Without this organisation really a film will just seem to be a bit of a mess. 

Jackie Brown directed by Quentin Tarantino – A Film Review

Following on from his widely successful film Pulp Fiction (1994), Jackie Brown (1997) based on the Elmore Leonard’s 1992 novel Rum Punch was a certainly a more subtle than Tarantino’s previous works. The film starring 70s Blaxploitation star Pam Grier, is a crime genre film that at it’s heart, questions the subject of middle age and the troubles that can come with it.

Jackie (Grier) is an airhostess who has just been caught smuggling in money for Ordell (Samuel Jackson) a gun smuggler wanted by the police. In order to skip prison time, she is advised by the officers interviewing her to set up her boss. Agreeing to do this, Jackie sets into motion a plan that will lead to her eventually getting one over on everyone and stealing Ordell’s money during the process of a sting operation. Intending to do so with the help of bail bondsmen Max Cherry (Robert Forster).

Although the previous summary may give the impression that the film is going to be one big lead up to a huge heist situation, this in fact never seems to be the case. Though the setup is important to the over reaching narrative, the majority of the film is in fact spent with the characters going about in more everyday situations. Even though Jackie and Max do discuss their intended plans we find out more about them as people than what they intend to do latter on. The same could be said with Ordell who is a gun pusher; yet, there is only one scene in the film where he discusses this in any real detail.

As much as the story is about a heist it is about middle age. Jackie and Max for example are unhappy with their lots in life. Both are in there forties, both single, with no children and jobs they no longer care for. They each are at a loss with their best days behind them; questioning what is next for them. In a way, their attempt to find an escape from their mundane lives leads them to each other. And in turn, this becomes one of the key developing aspects of the movie.

In contrast to this, many of the other characters in the film are defiantly trying to resist growing old. Ordell has structured for himself a group of young girls who he sleeps with on a casual basis. He’s able to do so because he provides for them on a financial basis and in return they feel pressured to repay him for this generosity. His reasons for doing this are simple; he does so to feel young again. In fact in one seen he prides himself on the fact that one of them is so young. But still, he fears them leaving him - later in the film; we see the young girl who he previously stated he provides for is in fact now a drug addict. While it isn’t stated that he had anything to do with her becoming an addict, it certainly does hint at this in the subtle revelation.

Another character obsessed with a past youth is the “young cop” Ray Nicolette played by Michael Keaton. The young cop struts around in a biker’s leather jacket, in interviews or in other quiet scenes it can be heard to squeak at any subtle movement. The jacket itself is a symbol of his lost youth. A trinket that reminds him both of his younger days and also stands as a hold onto the former rebellious side of his personality.

Louis Gara (Robert De Niro) also attains to youth. A crime partner to Ordell, he becomes fascinated by Melanie (Bridget Fonda) who is one of Ordell’s girls. Eventually they have sex – with him coming to orgasm in three minutes. After this though he begins to realise how different they are. Her youthful energy and constant verbal diaria begin to annoy him to the point where he lashes out against her. In a way this could be seen as him violently lashing out at his acceptance of his older age. By sleeping with her he hoped to prove his virility, however instead it has inversed him onto his own insecurities. As time went on with her their verbal interactions only reinforced the age gap between the two of them. Here his own insecurities are the problem, yet he cannot accept this. Instead he must externalise his anger, and he does this by lashing out at Melanie during an argument.

If you are to look at the narrative itself it is very well crafted and put together. Scenes blend seamlessly together as the story allows itself to have a nice slow build. Towards the last hour the film may feel to some that it is slowing slightly, but for those who are patient the build up is suitably paid off towards the end.

Presentation wise the film is all class. The key actors all give excellent performances. The direction and cinematography of the piece are also strong positives, but it’s defiantly the script and the performances that make this one standout. Of Tarantino’s works, this is arguably the best put together of his films. There is a real maturity and assuredness about the story and its presentation, which unfortunately appears to be lacking in his latter films. 

Yet, even for those not interested in the conventional Tarantino canon this film is worth a look. It’s a film that deals with getting older and questioning ones lot in life, it’s a Hollywood film that deals with character over thirty and takes them seriously! Surely, for reasons like this alone, Jackie Brown is worth a look? 

Russian Ark directed by Alexander Sokurov – Film Review

The film is mesmerising to say the least. For those unaware of Alexander Sokurov, many critics consider him as the foremost Russian filmmaker today. In Russian Ark (2002) he takes his audience on a surreal journey through the Hermitage museum. During the journey, the film seems to pass through time from the age of Russia’s Tsars up to the dawn of the October revolution. Also, the film is a sort of milestone, in the fact that it was filmed and presented in one continuous uncut shot. Because of this the film retains a kind of dream like quality as the camera floats through location set pieces.

In terms of perspective we follow the movements and journey of an unknown narrator (voiced by Sokurov himself) as he walks through the museum. Along the way he meets a strange European aristocrat who he engages in conversation. The aristocrat himself has a strange mysterious quality about him. He seems, at times, to appear and simultaneously (after varying conversations) disappear. Also his mood changes at different points, taking mysterious uneasy swings. At times, he appears friendly and happy in his disposition, yet at others he appears agitated, angry and abrasive. Overall though, his behaviour does end up adding to the feeling of a dream like event unfolding, with their inability to control the surreal and at times, antagonistic instances unravelling before them.

Set pieces within the film appear seamless in their choreography. They really do work well, with their timing and the layout of these pieces so concisely executed.

If there were any small faults with the film though they would most likely come from the length of the piece itself. The film itself isn’t to long (around 100 minutes) but it does slump in some points where it is transitioning from one set piece to another. However, that’s not to say this is always the case. In fact, it is during these points that some of the more memorable moments appear. In particular, one that stood out to myself was the camera gliding along a room in which an aristocratic lady was discussing her fear for her children’s safety as revolutionaries are fast approaching. It’s the small moments like this that really stick out in viewing Russian Ark. The set pieces themselves (although interesting) would be visual gimmickry without real substance to pull the audience into the world of the film.

There is something really quite unique here. Alexander Sokurov has managed to create a film that is both a large-scale spectacle and a genuinely intimate look at Russian history. For a film that is so surreal and large in scale it is interesting in how well it was able to catch and focus on small moments between individual characters without having to rely on an 'every man' protagonist. The closest the film comes to this is the unknown narrator, although he never really becomes the primary focus of the film. We see through his eyes yes, but we are not supposed to relate to him on a character level. Instead we are supposed to embrace his perspective. He, like all that we see before us is part of the museum. He is part of the past, a memory of what has been, and in reality, that is what this film was supposed to be. It’s the scars and memories of what once were in the Hermitage of Russia, a recount of memories of what once was for those who do not know this places story.

The Hobbit, or how many gimmicks can a studio lay on a film in order to sell a well-known story to their already pre-established audience?

(The following article was written in December 2012 and may need future alteration.) 

J. R. R. Tolkien’s book The Hobbit (1937) is recognised by most as a classic of children’s literature. It was also the precursor to the widely successful Lord of the Rings trilogy (1954 – 1955), which had previously been adapted to film too much critical acclaim by director Peter Jackson (2001 - 2003).

When the film trilogy came to an end, much discussion was brought up as to whether The Hobbit would itself be adapted to the screen. As the previous adaptions of Tolkien’s works had been such financial successes it didn’t take long for an answer to be made, and fans waited in much anticipation. When years of preproduction passed without much progression being made (the original man set to direct Guillermo Del Toro, signed on and then dropped out of the project.) Filming finally began in 2011, with the book adaption being arranged into three parts.

At this news both fans and critics alike were both sceptical about how a three hundred-page book could be made into three movies? Was there really enough material here? At this point, the studio went into overdrive in order to explain the move. It seemed in fact that the news had been misleading; The Hobbit itself would be the source for two films, whilst the third film would fill in the information on what happened between The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

With this information the fans were again even more excited. Unlike the Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit would be allowed the time to fully explore the books narrative, without the need to cut much information.

Coming up to the films release the fans were further informed that the film was going to be filmed in 3D and shot at 48 fps. Although most people remain sceptical of 3D, I remained open-minded to the experience. The news of the films 48 fps shooting however persisted to puzzle myself. I had previously seen very few films that had been shot in a similar frame rate (these mostly being experimental short films shot at 40fps) yet I remained curious to see how this would look on the big screen.

Many critics had varying opinions in the early weeks of the films release so when I entered my Imax screening I was slightly wary of what was to come. Overall the film itself was stunning in terms of its visuals. The sound design also shinned with a stunning sound track similar to that of Jackson’s previous Lord Of The Rings Trilogy. But what of the new technologies employed? How have they changed the experience? Well, they really didn’t alter that much. The frame rate itself did give (as was advertised) a more realistic look in most instances. The actor’s motions seemed smoother, yet the 3D itself remained relatively unchanged. Problems mainly arose from the area of visual presentation. At times, costumes and sets seemed a little staged – to inauthentic even. Fast motion also appeared choppy and jarring to the viewer. This latter disturbed shots which were meant to show large landscapes and vistas, however the camera seemed to move to fast and actors in the distance looked as though they had been sped up.

The 3D itself was good but this enhanced nothing. It seemed mostly to be an overpriced gimmick to impress those who embrace it.

Yet, what of the film itself? Ok, the film was impressive. It presented some fantastic visual imagery, but overall, there seemed to be a lot of padding to the story. The film just seemed to be a bit bloated. There was no real pace or bite to it. As it went on the spectacles got warring and whole sections of the film seemed to grind it to a halt.

Yes the film was entertaining, but that is no excuse to give the film a pass on its sloppy editing and pacing. What this film needed was an editor who would cut down on the extensive excess. What it had, was a yes man who enthralled himself on the commands of an overenthusiastic producer/director. This will forever stand as an example of excess filmmaking and excessive ego.

The film is based on a book, a relatively short book which, has now for money purposes been stretched into two films (three if you count the third connecting The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy). But why? For what reason has this been done? Is Hollywood scared people wont want to see it without some kind of new twist? Why should it be? The Lord of the Rings trilogy made, combined, nearly three billion dollars. To be honest I don’t think their scared, yet I still struggle to understand why they keep placing more and more gimmicks onto each new blockbuster. In repeated instances critics have spoke of their thoughts on 3D – from Mark Kermodeto Roger Ebert, or even the general public in research from 3D Focus, The Huffington Post and blunt film website Screen Rant suggest audiences are unsettled by this.

Although, in the end the movie itself may not be that significant in the overall film canon, it’s use of innovative presentation methods may influence the future of Hollywood cinema. Therefore it remains important for audiences to make themselves heard in these instances of opinion. Audiences must vote with their wallets. It is through this method that large production companies will gain a fuller understanding on the public consensus.

As the technology presently is, there are defiantly problems with presentation – with both the uses of 48fps and 3D technologies. There is of course the chance and possibilities of future improvement. But is this a feasible expectation for these new expensive technologies? Who knows? Only the future will show how these issues will finally develop upon a concessive conclusion.

Oz – Breakdown of a show

In the advent of mainstream television there are few shows that attempt to both experiment with the rules of conventional television and push boundaries so successfully as the HBO original series Oz (1997 – 2003). The show itself is primarily based around the prisoners and staff at Oswald State Correctional Facility (Oz); with most of the storylines themselves taking place within Emerald City. Emerald City itself is a unique freer roaming ward in the prison and within it, the prisoners are allowed to socialise and interact more freely with one another - under less strenuous supervision than other parts of the penitentiary.

There is something defiantly fresh about the shows format. It features a large ensemble cast with multiple intertwining stories with no one series protagonist to tie all of the action together. More so, it is the prison itself, which fulfils this task, the prison, its location and relation to the characters that connects everyone in the show.

Each episode also features a guide to the story in the form of narration. This narration, or prologue connects the loosely intertwined stories and provides outside insight as food for thought to the audience. The narration itself is unlike any seen before on television. It informs in overview from an impartial perspective yet injects something of foresight into the latter stories developments. To some it could be described as a more modern take on the Roger Sterling narration provided in the Twilight Zone (1959 - 1964), however there does appear to be a definite influence which dates further, to the prologues of Shakespeare even. With the way in which the information is being laid out, standing out as a precursor to what will or may soon unfold.

In it’s presentation of character development the show really stood out for its time and in many ways continues to do so. Character development in the show itself is novelistic. Actions and stories are given an even amount of time to build in progression. This allows for a good burn of conflict and really helps when the end of a storyline finally receives its payoff. In this way the shows format could be related to that of a soap opera. This is by no means meant as a denunciation, but instead as a complement. In soap operas, stories and characters are set out in a way that we can read them as we choose. Where one viewer may see a bitter person, another may see sorrow. In a good story it is the audience who is allowed to deduct their own conclusion on a situation, which is something Oz allows its audience to do coherently on a regular basis.

Character developments throughout the series also stream in a natural form of progression. They change over time from being archetypes into fully developed, multi-layered characters. All of their issues and problems are revealed slowly as varying stories are presented to the audience. Relationships are explored as issues of family, friends, rivalry, racism, violence, rape, regret and redemption are all examined throughout the shows run. That’s not to say that these issues haven’t been explored before or since in other prison dramas, yet here in Oz the resulting fallout feels real. An undercurrent of realism pulsates throughout, which in itself is one of the defining aspects of the series.

The overall presentation of the show also feels very new and raw. There is a definite level of experimentation in the direction, cinematography and editing of Oz. It is something that is rare in American television and at times, it is reminiscent of student filmmaking. With that said, it does however continue to emphasise a professional tone and never veers into amateur territory in its experimentation: overall I’d say that this in the end adds to the shows arrangement and general feeling of unpredictability.

Although Oz never seemed to set out to change the advent of television, it certainly (at least vicariously) marked its influence on the televisual programming. Its influence can be felt in other HBO shows which followed such as The Sopranos (1999 – 2007) and The Wire (2002 – 2008), and current shows like Boardwalk Empire (2010 – present). What perpetrated through from Oz was its brand of novelistic television. The idea that through taking time you can develop richly detailed, multi layered characters. That by allowing a slow burn in their development, you can implement a natural progression into the story. This is not to say that Oz was the sole definer of this style though, as predecessors like St Elsewhere (1982 - 1988) and Hill Street Blues (1981 – 1987) also implemented a more in-depth style of development for multiple characters. But unlike the previous shows, Oz was the first to fully realise the potential of the medium and style in question.

It could be argued then that for a small prison drama, Oz certainly went over the odds in its achievements, and in a way this is true. But I think the lesson to be learned here doesn’t necessarily relate to the shows location. In fact the true lesson here is based more on context. The fact that the show is based in a prison has no bearing on how good or bad a show may be. Instead what made Oz the show it was, was the fact that above all else the writing was put first. Characters, scenarios and the developments they follow, were put far beyond what they had been in preceding TV shows. Situations and what was going on were given the utmost attention by the writers, directors and actors. Because the stories were so well written, so well directed and roles so accurately portrayed on screen, Oz got the audience interested. It got us watching, it got us invested in the actions and characters being presented before us. None of them were innocent, of course not, but through the writing of the show we were informed upon some small part of each of the characters personality which allowed you, at least to a small extent, to have sympathy for them.

The style of which I’ve spoken seems all too familiar now, with shows such as Game Of Thrones (2011 – present) and Boardwalk Empire spending millions of dollars per episode, it seems a long time ago since this style was first implemented on HBO television. And, although these shows deserve to be marked on their own merits, it is also important to remember the cornerstones that laid the way before them. And these shows too will eventually fade away, it is important (I believe) to remember what made them successful. So that in years to come we can take new steps and push even further the medium of television as a form of storytelling.