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ChocolateLady 
"500 Chocolate Delights"
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 Posted - 12/02/2006 : 09:07:01
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Hm... even so, I still despise Will Farrell and refuse to pay to see him in anything.
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BaftaBaby 
"Always entranced by cinema."
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Posted - 12/02/2006 : 09:23:47
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quote:
Originally posted by ChocolateLady
Hm... even so, I still despise Will Farrell and refuse to pay to see him in anything.
Pay Qu'es que c'est 'pay' 
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ChocolateLady
"500 Chocolate Delights"
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Posted - 12/02/2006 : 09:49:15
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Originally posted by BaftaBabe
quote:
Originally posted by ChocolateLady
Hm... even so, I still despise Will Farrell and refuse to pay to see him in anything.
Pay Qu'es que c'est 'pay'
Yes, I know you don't have to pay to see these movies. Its part of your BAFTA job, isn't it? I'm sure if you didn't have to see all these movies there are many you just wouldn't bother with, right?
(Are there no movies you wouldn't go to see, even though they pay you to?)
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BaftaBaby
"Always entranced by cinema."
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Posted - 12/02/2006 : 10:17:27
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quote:
Originally posted by ChocolateLady
quote:
Originally posted by BaftaBabe
quote:
Originally posted by ChocolateLady
Hm... even so, I still despise Will Farrell and refuse to pay to see him in anything.
Pay Qu'es que c'est 'pay'
Yes, I know you don't have to pay to see these movies. Its part of your BAFTA job, isn't it? I'm sure if you didn't have to see all these movies there are many you just wouldn't bother with, right?
(Are there no movies you wouldn't go to see, even though they pay you to?)
Hey, CL, let's get one thing clear ... BAFTA membership is NOT a job. BAFTA members do NOT get paid for anything, nor do they receive incidental expenses involved in viewing films. I do NOT get a petrol allowance, or train tickets. BAFTA stands for British Academy of Film and Television Arts; it awards a BAFTA to practitioners in both professions in its annual ceremony. It's the UK equivalent of the US body which presents the Oscars, otherwise known as Academy Awards, the 'academy' being The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.
In the UK one cannot just 'join' BAFTA; that requires a nomination and seconder to put forward one's name as an active contributor to one or both of the film and television industries in a variety of capacities. Then the Board must approve the nomination. If you are inducted into the Academy you pay annual dues and receive full voting rights for the awards, which includes the facility to nominate any film, tv show, or performer or craft person for consideration in any one year. There is also a lifetime membership category which is granted periodically to members who have already been inducted; that's the category I'm in, which means I don't have to keep paying annual dues because back in the early 1990s, when I was a development executive for BBC television and earning some decent money, I was able to pay a modest lump sum when BAFTA was raising extra money to refurbish its prestigious premises.
All members can also attend without further payment the many screenings at BAFTA's very comfy HQ in Piccadilly, and use the members' lounge, bar and restaurant area. In the run-up to voting, we get invited to many [sometimes catered with sandwiches] screenings around London, some including Q&A with stars and directors. We also get soundtracks and DVD copies of many English language and sub-titled films to watch on specially coded DVD players, which were supplied free to each of us approximately 3000 members by the consortium of major US film distributors. That is the only 'thing' I've received as a BAFTA member, apart from printed promo sheets. Lately the cinema exhibitors have recognised the importance of making films available to BAFTA members and are allowing non-London residents free entry to their local cinemas.
Another reason I haven't paid to see films in decades is that for 10 years I was a critic as part of my duties as London Editor of Film Journal International. Then I had to see about 2-3 press screenings a day, and during The London Film Festival often 4-6 a day.
Would I have paid to see most of them? It's very difficult for me to say, because as a result of all the above I cannot, physically can not watch a film purely for enjoyment or entertainment. If you're trained in assessment you just can't help it.
Sorry, didn't mean to rant on and on, but just wanted to set the record straight! Thanks for the opportunity, and be VERY thankful you only get to see the stuff you WANT to see 
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Edited by - BaftaBaby on 12/02/2006 10:20:17 |
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ChocolateLady
"500 Chocolate Delights"
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Posted - 12/02/2006 : 10:27:27
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Thanks for the clarification. I didn't know this.
So, are there movies that you just won't go see because of the actors included? I mean, if you really dislike someone, why bother to go to their movie? It's not like you'd nominate them or vote for them, would you?
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BaftaBaby
"Always entranced by cinema."
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Posted - 12/02/2006 : 17:51:49
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quote:
Originally posted by ChocolateLady
Thanks for the clarification. I didn't know this.
So, are there movies that you just won't go see because of the actors included? I mean, if you really dislike someone, why bother to go to their movie? It's not like you'd nominate them or vote for them, would you?
Well, first of all I don't like or dislike actors unless I know them personally. And even then if I did dislike someone [such as Sam Waterson who behaved abominably toward me and another actress on the set of The Great Gatsby], it wouldn't put me off going to see something he was in if I needed to consider it for BAFTA voting. I recognise, in his case, that he's a very talented performer.
I take my voting privileges extremely seriously as an industry professional. I'm sure, for instance, that there may be a composer or a special effects person or lighting cameraperson who, if I met them, perhaps I wouldn't especially like. That should in no way stand in the way of my giving as fair an assessment of their work as I can.
Of course I never had the chance to meet Van Gogh, but from all accounts he probably wouldn't be my first choice as a dinner companion. That knowledge has never got in the way of my admiration, near awe, for some of his work.
That's part of the difference between professionally assessing someone's work and extrapolating the quality of the work from what you may or may not know about its creator. As a responsible BAFTA voter I need to know how to separate the various aspects of a film [and, btw, of a television show], and assess that aspect as impartially as I can. These include among others:
Screenplay [original or adapted -- and yes, a proportion of the scripts are available for us to read]
Direction
Lighting
SFX
Hair and Make-up
Editing
Production Design
Sound
Music
Set Design
Costumes
Performance
Choreography
It's only when it comes to the Best Film category that the film's themes and ideas play a significant role. And, I suppose, that category comes closest to a blurring of whether or not the vote is in sympathy with the intent of the writer and/or director. So, to take an example I suspect we'd agree on, when I assess a Mel Gibson film I need to block out whatever I've read about him and his beliefs and prejudices. I need to assess whether or not he's giving a believable performance, one which is surprising and original -- and yes, he has been known to do so. If I'm assessing his work as a director I need to separate out his choice of shots, where he places the camera in any scene, the pace and nuance of his direction ... wholly apart from whether or not his choice of themes is anything I can agree with. I couldn't bear his tacit and blatant, puerile anti-Semitic iconography in The Passion of the Christ [where the 'good Jews' looked 'Christian' but the 'bad Jews' all had enormous noses], but some of the scenes were shot as stunningly as any I've ever seen - that encounter in the misty woods for example. As a professional I MUST acknowledge that or I've failed. I never met John Wayne or John Ford but I know people who have, and they've confirmed what I've heard about their political views. That CANNOT stop me from acknowledging that Ford is one of the most original directorial voices ever to come out of Hollywood, nor that, though he was certainly not a great or even a good actor, Wayne always had an undeniable screen presence, an ease and charisma which captured audiences around the globe. To deny any of that would be dishonest.
The fact is that you do not know the majority of people who contribute to any film. And, having been at the sticky end of false publicity myself, it is naive to believe wholesale what you read about celebrities. Nevermind that most people contributing to a movie are NOT celebrities. So are you really suggesting that it would be morally suspect to vote for let's say an Aardman animator if I discovered that s/he were homophobic, had racial issues or voted Tory?
One of the things about filmmaking, creating television programmes, or plays is that the effort is communal. There may be a guiding vision -- and that may be compromised by commercial concerns. But even so, in order to achieve the thing that people will pay money to go to see, there needs to be a team all working toward the same end. To vote for these people and their work does not require an assessment of their characters, but only a fair and impartial judgement of their individual and collective contribution.
Sorry, ranting again. Hope this helps.
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BaftaBaby
"Always entranced by cinema."
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Posted - 12/02/2006 : 21:49:17
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Monster House and Happy Feet
This week sure is forcing me to rediscover my inner child with back to back animated kids fare for the holiday season; today was one geared to pre-teens, the other what is known as a family film. Both have a lot going for them, but couldn't be more different.
Monster House
With the stamp on it of both Robert Zemeckis and Steven Spielberg this is no shoddy piece of work. You don't often see an animated horror movie peppered with jokes and packing a moral message. It's nearly Halloween, and we have to journey through a worm-hole of suburban hell to get to that point, but happily the trip both engages and entertains.
The story focuses on a scary house owned by the extremely creepy Mr Nebbercracker [played by the wonderful Steve Buscemi]; this weird guy has made quite a neighbourhood rep assuring that no kid will set even a toe onto the lawn. The house sits slam bang across the street from pre-pubescent DJ, left in the care of babysitter Elizabeth [voiced by Maggie Gyllenhaal] by the kind of well-meaning parents who want their kid to take more responsibility while they go off for a couple of days doing parenty things. It's not long before Elizabeth becomes distracted by her boyfriend [Jason Lee], who swills beer, wants to do more than cop a feel, and whose idea of fun is to pull the stuffing out of a toy bunny. DJ too invites his pal Chowder to share their evening of freedom, and to keep a watchful eye on the weird house through the telescope in DJ's bedroom. Seems the lawn and the house have been capturing kites, basketballs, trikes and a veritable Santa's workshop of toys for decades. So already we have some classic horror film references, with even more to come.
It's the discovery of why Nebbercracker is such a bully, how that involves his long-dead wife, the once adorable if obese Giantess of the Circus, and why the house itself has become a living embodiment of danger, that presents the narrative obstacles eventually resolved by DJ, Chowder and their new unlikely friend Jenny, a slightly older, richer girl whose arrogance and sass cloak her loneliness.
All the characters are created by the same motion capture technique as used in The Polar Express which lends an eerie reality to their movement only heightened by their slightly doll-like features. The cast delivers a script which addresses both kids and older viewers, is pacy when it needs to be, allowing sufficient breathing spaces to develop character. Granted, ultimately the story's a bit too neat, and never is it explained how DJ's street is so inexplicably devoid of residents and traffic during most of the action until the end when everyone gathers to punctuate the plot. I understand the film will be shown in 3D in relevant cinemas, but even in 2D it's not a bad way to spend a couple of hours.
************
Happy Feet
That the much-hyped Happy Feet is a superior piece of motion capture computer animation is almost a given, with that sure-fire winner in the adorable stakes: fluffy penguins, especially fluffy penguin chicks. These elements plus some truly amazing visual sequences actually carry you through the film as smoothly as a fabled magic carpet ride. Sadly, it's the kind of ride that causes you to plummet if you stop to look down and question what's keeping you up in the first place.
Before I go into the whys and wherefores, please don't be put off seeing this because it really is a remarkable technical achievement, and if you have kids, they will be entranced for much of the film.
The main problems are a split-focus narrative, not enough distinction of character, and an over-reliance on music to compensate for story development. Let's examine these.
Thematically the film divides into two. The first section - which echoes Hans Christian Andersen's Ugly Duckling- sees two Emperor penguins [Norma Jean and The King, as voiced by Nicole Kidman doing a passable Monroe impersonation and Hugh Jackman as Elvis] fall in love through their 'heart song' and produce their egg. While Norma Jean waddles off with the wives to eat fish, the King fulfills the egg brooding destiny we all learned about in March of the Penguins. At one careless point, however, he lets his egg roll away from his body warmth, and forever after writhes in the guilt that when little baby Mumble hatches, his unusual tap-dancing ability has replaced his ability to sing. For the crime of being different the young penguin, grown to adolescence with the voice of Elijah Wood, is outcast most particularly by Noah the Elder in a parody of religious fundamentalists. These crusty elders are convinced that it's Mumble and his strange ways that have caused the colony's decreasing fish supply.
Mumble's heard stories, however, of an alien species which may be smarter than penguin-kind who are altering the environment and threatening their very existence. With the help of a quintet of Latino Adelie penguins he's met along the way and whose main man - uhm penguin - is voiced by the versatile Robin Williams in one of three charcterizations -- Mumble sets out to find the aliens and convince them to stop killing all the fish. He's determined to save his colony even though it means leaving behind the penguin of his eye, Gloria.
This is where the focus shifts into The Environmental Message Movie, and gives rise to a completely implausible albeit amusing sequence which sees the brave young penguin in a zoo exhibit with overtones of The Truman Show. Somehow, by virtue of a little girl marvelling at the tap-dancing bird, he's put back into the wild so that Antarctic scientists can address the problem of controlling fish stocks. Now, worthy though this is, it's a far cry from where we started in both genre and narrative style.
That brings us to character. Happy Feet emerged from the Kennedy Miller studio which created the joyous phenomenon that is Babe. That film also implied various messages, but revealed them through the different characters both human and animal. It was also set in a barnyard so each animal had immediate distinction. The penguins, each of its own species, all look alike, despite some attempt to imply cleavage amid the chest feathers of the females, and in Mumble's case to give him blue instead of the ubiquitous brown eyes, and to have him retain much of his fluffy plummage -- surely a sign of arrested development, no?
Yes, there are other animals, but they're all predators. Babe has allies, Nemo has allies, Dumbo, Pinocchio, Bambi, Simba, Ariel all had allies, and allies of different species so we the audience have a wider choice of character types to relate to, not to mention that some can become hilarious mouthpieces for comedy or wisdom. And even if you buy the Adelies in that role, once the film shifts focus Mumble is on his own till the happy resolution. Which can't really be a resolution, now, can it, given what we - that alien species - are still doing to the planet.
As to the question of the music, yet again it over-balances the first part of the film, practically turning it into a musical. But it's the kind of musical that packs so many numbers in to cover the fact that the story is pretty thin. Also, given that each penguin expresses itself with its own heart song, the score has little cohesion, surely a function of successful musicals. In any case, once Mumble's adventures carry him away from the colony the songs are few and far between. No sea shanties on the drag-net trawlers, no combos in the elephant seal colony, no zoo-visitor chorus. Any of which, mind you, would have been a terrible choice, but I'm just making a structural point.
I notice there are some Imax credits, so I'm assuming that like the re-formatted version of Fantasia this will have an Imax release. Come to think of it, there was a brilliant and exciting under the ice sequence in the new Fantasia - I wonder if that, plus the success of Madagascar and the Penguin documentary inspired this tale. I suspect if it had germinated instead from a passion to tell this particular story we might have had a film as successful in every aspect as it is visually.
Tuesday is Renaissance, so have a nice rest of the w/e.
**************
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Edited by - BaftaBaby on 12/06/2006 12:42:14 |
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Whippersnapper. 
"A fourword thinking guy."
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Posted - 12/02/2006 : 22:44:55
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Actually I doubt if Chocky meant "like" in the personal sense you infer, but rather "like to watch" sense. I think she's asking you why you bother going along to films by directors who produce bad work or actors who can't act convincingly.
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BaftaBaby
"Always entranced by cinema."
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Posted - 12/02/2006 : 23:23:46
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quote:
Originally posted by Whippersnapper
Actually I doubt if Chocky meant "like" in the personal sense you infer, but rather "like to watch" sense. I think she's asking you why you bother going along to films by directors who produce bad work or actors who can't act convincingly.
Oh ... well first of all it isn't a question of 'bother.' If I don't see as many of the films on the nomination list I can't in all conscience vote on them fairly. Granted I don't see every single film, but I usually manage the ones most likely to end up on the shorter list. Voting is in three stages, btw. The other two major reasons not to exclude viewing the work of directors or actors whose past films have disappointed me are:
1. People often surprise you, viz Will Ferrell in Stranger Than Fiction.
2. Even the most diabolically acted or directed movie might have amazing camera work, editing, music, or sfx ... and I need to vote fairly on those as well.
Sorry, Choc, if I misunderstood your question.  
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ChocolateLady
"500 Chocolate Delights"
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Posted - 12/03/2006 : 08:02:01
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quote:
Originally posted by BaftaBabe
quote:
Originally posted by Whippersnapper
Actually I doubt if Chocky meant "like" in the personal sense you infer, but rather "like to watch" sense. I think she's asking you why you bother going along to films by directors who produce bad work or actors who can't act convincingly.
Oh ... well first of all it isn't a question of 'bother.' If I don't see as many of the films on the nomination list I can't in all conscience vote on them fairly. Granted I don't see every single film, but I usually manage the ones most likely to end up on the shorter list. Voting is in three stages, btw. The other two major reasons not to exclude viewing the work of directors or actors whose past films have disappointed me are:
1. People often surprise you, viz Will Ferrell in Stranger Than Fiction.
2. Even the most diabolically acted or directed movie might have amazing camera work, editing, music, or sfx ... and I need to vote fairly on those as well.
Sorry, Choc, if I misunderstood your question.
The Whip was right. 'Sokay.
I see your point. I guess its a good thing I don't have to vote on films since I'd be prejudiced for and/or against some actors, directors, etc. I doubt if I could be fair. Brava to you that you can be.
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BaftaBaby
"Always entranced by cinema."
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Posted - 12/05/2006 : 15:59:03
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Keane
I'm not sure why this unpretentious, disturbing indie film [produced by Steven Soderbergh in 2004] should have had to wait nearly two years for a UK release. The fact that it did finally show itself probably has something to do with star Damien Lewis's recent attention as one of the most versatile actors around. Here he plays an American, as convincingly as he did in Spielberg's Band of Brothers.
William Keane, on disability pay for a mental illness that becomes obvious after spying on him for even a short time, may or may not have lost a young daughter, and may or may not be trying to expiate whatever residual guilt he feels by periodically, obsessively, and vainly trying to confront her abductor. When even he can see the futility of that road he blots out the present pain with loud music, alcohol, drugs, sex and sleep.
Not until he meets Lynn, a young woman with a daughter of the same age, both transient residents in the flea-pit hotel where Keane has a room, is he able to gather some vestiges of his sanity to form a non-threatenting, non-sexual, but genuine friendship with them. But when Lynn asks him to look after little Kira while she clarifies matters with her husband [who's supposedly settling into a new job before he sends for his wife and child], William is thrown back into the demonic grasp of his emotional dilemma. As the film runs its course the tension, never melodramatic, grabs you until the conclusion.
Director Lodge Kerrigan employs a powerfully relentless filmmaking technique more often associated with documentary, following William as though he were being observed under a microscope ... which brilliantly evokes what the character himself feels about his presence in a world that keeps eluding him. At first you feel slightly alientated by this pursuit, but gradually and despite some of the more dangerous aspects of his behaviour, you begin to care about William, begin to want things to turn out well for him.
The film lives and dies by the performances and most especially that of Lewis. He is magnificent, delving deeply into the disturbed soul of a person who once upon a time wasn't that different from any of us. That we get glimpses of that other William only serves to heighten the effect of the more damaged soul which Lewis portrays. The supporting cast simply, effectively and above all honestly play their parts. The child Kira matches Lewis in the near angelic simplicity, unfussiness of her acting. No surprise since even at ten she'd been a veteran of scores of films, her first at the age of three.
You may have to search for this film as keenly as Keane does his lost daughter, but if you find it, it will definitely be worth it.
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Edited by - BaftaBaby on 12/05/2006 16:16:28 |
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BaftaBaby
"Always entranced by cinema."
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Posted - 12/06/2006 : 12:35:13
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Renaissance
Director Christian Volckman's cine dreams and influences are right there on the screen for all to see in his amazingly stylish first animated feature. From the credits [dripping and jumbled letters constantly being rearranged into names and job titles] which evoke Seven, to a futuristic Paris remodelled to remind you of Bladerunner out of The Fifth Element, to the anime-and-Steve-Canyon-influenced rendering of the people albeit all in black and white even more highly contrasted than Art Spiegelman's Maus, it all feels somewhat familiar yet wholly unique.
The film positively reeks of style, and there are also some truly effective voice performances, not least of which is Daniel Craig as Karas, a dark-haired [NB Salopian! rugged police hero of Arabic ancestry. Apparently, since the film was largely French financed and produced but always with an eye to an international market, all the characters were double-voiced by both French and English/American actors. Technically with the aid of some very snazzy and brilliantly integrated motion capture the visual experience is a real trip!
Sadly it's a journey of style over substance, since the story is a pretty hackneyed futuristic re-telling of lots of mediocre television episode police thrillers. We're in mid-21st century Paris; the country and by implication at least the Western World is even more blatantly in the mitts of multi-national big biz than today. Dominent and ubiquitous is Avalon, whose animated billboards continually push the message that the pharmaceutical giant is on "your side ... for life." Avalon, let's not forget, was the South Sea paradise on earth to which King Arthur and cohorts were transported after death to live forever. And it's nothing less than immortality which the company wants to claim for itself, its profits, and its CEO Dellenbach, voiced by the splendid Jonathan Pryce. Whatever other jobs people may have, a majority also work/spy for Avalon.
The plot that carries the tale involves two bright and beautiful sisters, Bislane, supplementing her clerical job at Avalon with more funky duties at a rave club, and Ilona, ambitious brilliant Avalon geneticist working on a project involving Progeria, an actual tragic rare condition resulting in premature aging wherein little children take on the appearance of wrinkled elderly people. The film's action begins with Ilona's kidnap which is where Karas comes in, tracing clues to Ilona's mentor Dr Muller [Ian Holm], elder brother to a Progeria sufferer. This wizened child/man provides the only fleeting moments of colour in the film, and when they arrive, even in their simplicity, their power nearly takes your breath away.
Yes, I wish at least as much attention had been paid to the script as the look of Renaissance, but if you want a cinematic experience unlike any you'll have seen before, seek this out.
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BaftaBaby
"Always entranced by cinema."
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Posted - 12/07/2006 : 20:10:23
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The Last King of Scotland
Dustin Hoffman won the Best Actor Oscar for Rainman in 1988 from a competitive field including Big - Tom Hanks, Mississippi Burning - Gene Hackman, Pelle erobreren - Max von Sydow, and Stand and Deliver -Edward James Olmos. Also released that year was Bird starring Forest Whittaker, a performance which, imho, towered above those final four, reaching deep to elucidate a troubled artist of genius whose music would last forever and whose influence reached far beyond the jazz he lived for. It won Whittaker Best Actor at the Cannes Film Festival, though it was his first leading role.
Once again in Kevin Macdonald's The Last King of Scotland the under-recognized Whittaker inhabits another public figure, this time the feared and reviled Idi Amin Dada, onetime dictator of Uganda. That he succeeds so completely in finding every nuance of such an instinctive and consummate political animal is testament to Whittaker's process of total immersion in his role. He refuses to judge, letting the story itself shape our opinion of a man we could too easily dismiss without any thought of why this monster could command such respect and loyalty among his people.
But Macdonald, directing an adapted screenplay from Giles Foden's novel, uses Amin as a catalyst for the film's dramatic focus, a young white Scottish doctor and his loss of innocence. Yes folks, once again we have an opportunity to engage with a wholly African story, to understand the effects of a brutalized nation on its people hungry to declare themselves, and for whatever reason we must enter the tale at several removes and witness it through white eyes. Why, I wonder? Isn't Uganda's history, replete with the stuff of drama, moving enough for us? Do we really need our Western hands held so tightly, and, in changing the focus, embellishing history for a 'better yarn,' isn't that extremely demeaning to the Ugandan people, diminishing what they actually endured?
For we have here James McAvoy - who's cornering a market in the charming innocent with untapped emotional depth - as Dr Nicholas Garrigan, eager to escape the clutches of his provincial Scottish parents by volunteering at a backwoods mission clinic run by Dr Merrit and his wife Sarah [Gillian Anderson, proving yet again her range extends way beyond the X Files]. When Garrigan accidentally meets Amin and comes up trumps with some basic medical treatment for his injured hand, he's offered a remarkable position as personal physician to the General, an offer - evoking that of another egomaniac - he finds he cannot refuse.
The story parallels Amin's growing power grasp over the country, like some giant appetite devouring liberties under the guise of magnanimity, with Garrigan's growing realization that his acceptance of privilege has bloodied his very soul. Ladled atop these two journies like butterscotch sauce is a sub-plot involving Garrigan's fling with one of Amin's wives, and his subsequent attempts to escape back to the safety of Scotland.
The film has some extremely powerful moments, but ultimately it fails because it reverts to melodrama in the face of a reign of terror. The focus becomes increasingly fuzzy. And that's a shame, because an actor of Whittaker's calibre deserves to be the sparkling centre of a cinematic gem. For him alone it's worth seeing.
Coming up --- something completely different:
The Nativity Story
The Holiday
Garfield 2
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BaftaBaby
"Always entranced by cinema."
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Posted - 12/09/2006 : 14:37:55
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The Nativity Story and The Holiday
The Nativity Story
There's something about religious iconography which captures believers merely because of the reference. I remember one of my Catholic childhood friends confessing that she truly believed the tatty painted figurine pretending to be a statue outside the church was the work of God, and actually housed within it Mary, the mother of Jesus. I suspect Catherine Hardwicke's film will have a similar effect for some.
Straight away let me admit I'm no Christian; indeed I regard the notion of religion as a fascinating social construct, which- when I studied comparative religion - was very helpful in understanding the common links that bind our species. But, for me, it's not invested with any sense of awe and wonder -- two qualities I can find in the face of a flower or in Hubble telescope images of nebulae without the need to identify a creator.
I mention this because I had no agenda going in to this film, no preconceptions on which I could value the story. If you are a Christian you'll probably see this film very differently, and as I write this it's in the top ten UK box office charts.
No need to specifiy in the western world whose nativity this film documents, and in the New Testament the story is told simply and concisely but with a certain sense of poetry. Sadly Hardwicke's treatment leaves poetry outside the door, replacing it with protracted boredom, inane dialogue, and a lack of cinematic rhythm. The filming of this intrinsically undramatic story, a Biblical anecdote really, adds nothing. It's a kind of comic-book, Jesus-for-Dummies version of how an angelic vision came to Mary, a nubile Nazareth teenager, to inform her that although a virgin she'd discover herself not only with child, but with a child who would become the deity on earth.
Kiesha Castle-Hughes as Mary takes the news extremely calmly as indeed she takes everything that happens -- not that much does happen, which is one of the film's major flaws. She's already entered into a secular arranged marriage contract with Joseph, a Bethlehem carpenter with a thriving business; tradition states that though she is to serve him as a wife, she'll remain living with her parents and never enter his bed for a year. Meanwhile, he'll build a house for his future family.
Joseph feels rejected when she decides to visit her cousin Elizabeth who at her advanced age is also pregnant by her equally elderly husband who's been told by the same annunciating angel that the baby will grow up to be John the Baptist, serving the coming Messiah. Elizabeth and Zaccariah accept Mary's story of her increasingly obvious pregnancy, urging her to stay with them until the baby is born. But she returns bulging to Nazareth, and it's only when the angel visits Joseph himself that the suspicions of Mary's parents and the townspeople are allayed. The couple, however, must trek to Joseph's native Bethlehem to fulfil King Herod's dictat to register themselves for tax purposes in Joseph's place of origin. Paranoid Herod [Ciaran Hinds in one of the film's few true actor's performances] fears the truth of whispered rumours warning that a Messiah is imminent who will replace him as King. Threaded through these two strands is the quest of three Magi, fluent in astrology and aspects of necromancy, who seek the alignment of Venus, Jupiter, and a new third star.
In trying to identify something to like the production design shines out. I suppose, too, for a generation which is increasingly replacing reading with iconographic texting, the images here may serve some people's message. Shame that both screenplay and direction diminish what is essentially a good story premise, whether you believe it or not.
The Holiday
Gumption - now there's a word you don't hear so much these days.
As Oscar-winning screenwriter Arthur Abbott, Eli Wallach [now his his early 90s and who's been acting for well over 60 years], advises Kate Winslett's Iris to watch those 1930s and 1940s films featuring such women of "gumption" as Barbara Stanwyck and Irene Dunne. The fact that director Nancy Meyers wrote her own script for The Holiday proves she's a fan of those classics and, by implication, of their creative luminaries including Preston Sturges, Ben Hecht, and Howard Hawks.
So it's a shame that The Holiday - though engaging as any rom-com, date film, or chick flick around - never manages to match her mentors. On the gumption scale Meyers presents two broken-hearted beautiful women, both with well-paid jobs they love, each of whose most compelling act is to find the strength to end dead-end relationships -- only to be plunged into replacements which may or may not prove any more stable. Where Meyers scores, as she did in previous similarly-themed films, is to beckon us into the romp early enough with charming characters so that the more searching questions only come later over the post-film pizza. In that, she's learned Hollywood box office lessons more effectively than narrative ones -- lessons which have paid off with what Variety calls a 'cume' price tag in excess of a billion bucks.
So, what have we got? A trading places story, except in this one the two heroines, the very versatile Winslett and a tad-too-cutesy Cameron Diaz, swap houses via the internet to spend Christmas far away from any reminders of their bruised romance muscles. I think one of the reasons the story isn't as strong as it might be is that both are pretty much in the same boat. Both work in the media [Diaz running her own movie trailer company in the glitzier echelons of LA, Winslett, the wedding columnist on a major national UK paper]. Both live in to-die-for places reflecting their personalities: an ultra modern, gadget-powered, high style house, with pool, gardener, and housekeeper, versus a postcard-perfect Surrey cottage with working fireplace tucked away down an isolated country lane but close enough both to a quaint town and the neon of London. Each woman is determined to find the inner strength to get over her destructive relationship, yet neither seems willing to do the emotional work required to recognize their patterns of attraction.
Flanking each woman are two men. In Cameron's case it's Ed Burns as the cheating live-in lover and Jude Law as the new guy - who's got a domestic surprise up his well-tailored sleeve. Kate's lurv nemesis is Rufus Sewell, replaced in her neediness by a similarly needy Jack Black. I must admit, the screen dynamic between the leads really does make you willing to go along with them, even root for them. But because the stories parallel instead of contrast, there's really only one place to go, and basically one road toward happily ever after.
Consider some other trading places tales, from Mark Twain's The Prince and the Pauper, to the eponymous Eddie Murphy/Dan Ackroyd vehicle. The whole [narrative] point of trading places occurs on a moral scale, each character evolving in different ways from the experience. In The Holiday it's only the setting that alters, as though that alone can effect real character change. Anyone who's been through a painful break-up knows that the typical pattern is first to be attracted to wholly unsuitable people; only then, and maybe not even then are you able to move on to more salubrious choices. Random meetings before that may provide extremely stimulating bed-mambos, but they ain't likely to be hiding true love up their knickers. As though true love is the one thing that will complete these gals - these young, attractive, financially successful, funny, witty, intelligent women. Sounds like a Hollywood fairy tale to me. Which is just what this is, and if you're in the right mood, you'll have a jolly good time. Just don't make the mistake of looking for any real gumption.
Garfield 2 tomorrow plus a catch-up screening of Ice Age: The Meltdown. I'll try not to eat too much lasagne or forget to turn down the heat. 
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Edited by - BaftaBaby on 12/09/2006 14:47:42 |
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BaftaBaby
"Always entranced by cinema."
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Posted - 12/11/2006 : 17:10:09
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The Fountain, Garfield 2: A Tale of Two Kitties, Ice Age: The Meltdown
Grief bubbles up in Darren Aronofsky's impressionistic The Fountain like the evanescent process it is, impossible to hold in one's hand, a renewable resource of pain that is connected by association to every aspect of the dead loved one. The director's attempt to externalize what is essentially a protracted, complex and
uniquely personal journey could probably never have wholly succeeded given the obstacles of the medium, yet [as in his previous work] he tackles it with courage and various degrees of vision. He's chosen to straddle three time-frames, loosely connected by the main characters of each, personified by Hugh Jackman and Aronofsky's off-screen partner Rachel Weisz. I suspect in coming years the film won't be regarded either as highly or with the degree of contempt it's been met with on its release.
The film's main narrative hubs around Tom Creo, a research scientist who's induced a brain tumour in a macaque monkey in a desperate attempt to discover a cure for his wife Izzy who's rapidly approaching death. When the monkey is fed an unapproved compound Tom incurs the wrath of the Center's director [Ellen Burstyn proving yet
again her mastery of characterization with even the most minimal of script clues]; however the monkey begins showing signs of age reversal. Turns out the compound was acquired by Tom on a research trip to South America. It's significant that in his obsession to find a cure for Izzy the object of his affection, he actually neglects
her as a person, failing to sustain whatever precious moments they have left together.
She, meanwhile, has been writing a historical tale called The Fountain, set during the Spanish Inquisition, in which Queen Isabella instructs her loyal Conquistidor Tomas to journey into Mayan jungles to recover The Tree of Life mentioned in the bible, and often referred to as The Fountain of Youth.
Aronofsky's third narrative strand is set in the 27th century when humans can travel in their own space globes -- reminiscent of the final section of Kubrick's 2001 -- far into the reaches of star-birthing and star-killing nebulae. On one such trip this levitating and wholly spiritual Tommy of the future scrapes away at the bark of The Tree desperate to taste its sap of immortality. This
Tommy's story comes closest to the aftermath of grief, guilt, and discovering reasons to go on that disturb the more mundane Tom as he waits out the lead-up to his wife's death.
These are interesting story-telling premises, and it's no crime to pursue them in a non-linear fashion. Where Aronofsky fails, though, is in erecting such alienating barriers both between his characters and between us and them. The moments of connection between Tom and Izzy hint that's where our points of identification should be. But we're constantly yanked away from becoming too involved, a brutal move which must be a deliberate attempt by Aronofsky to remind us of the ragged pain of loss, as opposed to more heart-tugging treatments usually delivered by Hollywood mainstream movies. Sadly, he gets so caught up in his determined ambitions that the whole project often descends into a pretentious pit just when he means it to soar into some artistic nebula.
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Garfield 2: A Tale of Two Kitties
The comic strip I like; it features nice guy Jon and his wise-cracking, laconic, lasagne-eating puss Garfield. Jim Davis's pithy newspaper panels evoke a relationship between man and cat which illuminate the behaviour of each ... proving ultimately that it is the fat feline who wields the upper paw. It's also extremely funny
delivered in bite-size chunks.
Translating such gems into a feature film necessitates a narrative, and that's bound to dilute the impact of these iconographic characters. In the first Garfield movie the moggy must rescue Odie, the hated new addition to the household, in order to prove his loyalty to Jon. The sequel is a retelling of Mark Twain's The Prince and the Pauper wherein Jon follows his heart's desire, veterinarian Liz, to England where she's delivering a speech at the stately home of a recently dead woman who adored her precious cat Prince so much she's left him the entire estate. What Jon doesn't know is that Garfield and Odie have stowed away in his luggage, and what the dead woman's legal team doesn't know is that her scheming nephew Lord Dargis wants to murder Prince and take over the estate himself. Of course the two marmelade cats might be twins and we're off on an adventure of mistaken identity against the backdrop of Jon summoning up the courage to propose to Liz. Such plot elements are the stuff of farce and sit-com. But it's the cat we came to see.
In both films Garfield is a cgi creation excellently inserted into the live action, and perfectly voiced by a world-weary Bill Murray. In this film his doppleganger is portrayed by Tim Curry, wholly convincing as a titled and spoiled-brat cat. That the two trade life lessons as well as learning to work together against Billy Connolly's
malevolent Lord Dargis is the theme of the script. But the film hardly needs a theme since it will essentially succeed in direct proportion to how enamored you already are of Garfield. If the answer is very, you'll forgive the thin plot, the inoffensiveness of Breckin Meyer as Jon, the perkiness of Jennifer Love Hewitt's Liz, and you may even forgive Billy Connolly's accent that skids the length of the British Isles from scene to scene.
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Ice Age: The Meltdown
The unlikely trio returns, trekking this time to avoid being drowned as the ice inevitably melts and retreats. CGI stalwarts Manny the Mammoth, Diego the Sabre-Tooth, and Sid the Sloth [SNL and sit-com star Ray Romano, one-time bad-boy comic Denis Leary, and versatile Latino stand-up turned actor John Leguizamo] are joined by some new pals notably Queen Latifah's Ellie, a sassy yet innocent mammoth convinced she's really a possum, having been raised as an abandoned orphan with her two 'brothers' Crash and Eddie.
As with so many of these technologically amazing animated features story counts for little and characterization and witty dialogue is all. If you buy the premise and are willing to forgive some of the archeological anomolies -- including some dangerous icthyosaurs who magically come to life when their ice chunk melts, never mind how
could these characters have survived the scores of thousands of years since the first film -- the Ice Age sequel has intermittent charm which may be enough to crack your icy demeanor into smiles if not full-on belly laughs.
The adventures of the characters along the way are bounded by the notion of repopulating each species once the meltwater delivers them to dry and fertile land. So there's an underlying message about global warming, which may draw simplistic parallels and reduce the problem for modern children, but may at least get families talking about it. And I suppose that's a good thing.
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BTW because this thread is getting so long a couple of people have asked for a content menu, which I'm posting in a separate thread. I hope that's helpful.
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Let the [BAFTA] viewings begin!
