Author Archives: Ben Gould
Victoria Street, Edinburgh.
A thousand memories abound but the only incident especially memorable in a cinematic way is of a rather short human firing a gargantuan water pistol at a bobby on the beat.
It will have been part of the Edinburgh Festival (or whatever), your annual sub-Lynchian adventure into being and nothingness.
These earlier episodes of The Sopranos – almost the entire first season – are terrible.
The episodes are rammed with so much slapstick comedy you can’t take any of this seriously. The scenarios are frankly ridiculous and there is something desperate about it all with the weak psycho babble.
We also have to tolerate the constant silly references to gangster movies and even have to put up with Silvio Dante’s Michael Corleone quotes which his goon associates (everyone in it is a goon) appear to find rib-splittingly hilarious. It’s not funny on any level. It’s embarrassing watching these actors attempt to act amused.
You’re looking at something made in 1999; I suppose TV at the time was a lot different back then and The Sopranos was a benchmark in terms of onscreen violence and bringing a cinematic feel to the small screen, but the first season is very cartoon-like and childish by today’s standards. The later seasons are a different show altogether, intrinsically more mature and less juvenile. And about something.
Which is for the best.
Touch of Evil (1958) is barking mad.
An entirely and completely odd movie, this one. It is a riot and for 1958 pushes it to the limit. I keep hearing B-Movie but it’s got an A-list cast, a combination of the past and the future. You’ve got a washed-up, bloated (to be polite) Welles looking just dreadful and Marlene Dietrich seemingly popping in and out of an opium haze. I have no idea why she is in this movie but she’s there. As is Zsa Zsa Gabor.
With Welles it’s once again the bravura cinematography and sound design. I always thought of Orson as Howard Hawks with a lot more edge, that within the confines of a bog-standard script he could unearth, indeed inject, a bit of madness and run with it like no other.
The border town here is the seediest wee town. It just defines sleaze. Almost every character is nuts or says something so silly it had to be Welles doing it for a laugh. The roaming camera is an addiction, and there is always something going on at the back or edge of frame. The story is constantly in motion yet we get hints of another narrative kicking off beyond the mise en scène. That’s a talent.
And I did not know until today that the character of Al Schwartz (District Attorney’s Assistant) is played by the same bloke who was the creepy Highway Patrol Officer in Psycho (1960). Take a bow, Mort Mills.
And I’m not the only one who can say that The Player (1992) and Get Shorty (1995) brought me to this wonderful motion picture. Cinema is a land of allusions.
Riot!
Edinburgh rubble.
The new St. James Centre still under construction. I refuse to go in. The former crime against architecture defined eyesore but was imbued with wee personal memories.
The Virgin Megastore, for example. I stole a manky copy of Sliver (1993) from a car boot sale once and ‘returned’ it to the shop. Got £18 in vouchers and bought The Phantom Menace (1999) and Das Boot (1984) on DVD.
It might be possible today. Experiment incoming.
And what happened to Sgt. Barnes?
Bad Lieutenant (1992) and Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans (2009).
If you’re going to watch ‘companion piece’ movies then these two barking mad features are the ones for you.
The only thing really connecting them is the title, the film from 2009 the most loose ‘remake’ ever. Harvey Keitel goes Full-Harvey and Nicolas Cage goes Full-Cage. You can’t choose a winner. The films aren’t about plotting or themes; they are just an opportunity for the actor to do a Brando, go a wee bit nuts. And it’s a joy to watch. Stay off the drugs, people!
Somehow, Kietel and Cage both wound up in an appalling feature named National Treasure (2004), phoning it in in the worst way. They look bored shitless. As was I. But one has to pay the bills so I forgive them.
The Dumb and Dumber (1994) soundtrack is an event.
The movie is a masterpiece that would not get made today; can you imagine what the hysterics would do to Twitter? I will write all about this some other time.
The soundtrack, though. Oh my. It’s quite possibly the best compendium of ‘tunage’ ever. 1994 was a grand year for all involved, even if Jeff Daniels got blown up by Dennis Hopper.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 