Author Archives: Ben Gould
Snappage from a lockdown.
And aye, I am ashamed of the snap featuring me with gloves on grasping the 7 Up bottle. It was taken in front of a police station. This is my excuse.
Everest (2015) is nauseating viewing.
Based on the 1996 Mount Everest disaster, this is your generic retelling fare. I hated this movie, utterly hated it. The picture comprised an array of rather irritating archetypes feeling very sorry for themselves because they experience the harsh elements on the highest mountain on the planet. There is no drama to proceedings at all because they are barely characters and get what is coming to them. Like, what did you expect? It’s Mount Everest, not an indoor climbing centre.
What the fuck even is a ‘guided climb’? I do not understand why it is even legal. There is a quote from the only semi-interesting ‘character’ in the movie (the redoubtable Jake Gyllenhaal) which is something like, “If you need help getting up the thing you should not even be here. “
I like the sound of that and it is a rather universal statement which applies to any endeavour. The movie looks nice – well shot and framed. It’s just pointless, a fawning ode to stupidity.
Avoid.
Further reading:
Demolition Man (1993) was some premonition.
Another memorable number from the 1993 movie vault, which I often posit the ‘best year ever for movies’: Mrs. Doubtfire, Schindler’s List, The Fugitive, Jurassic Park, Tombstone, Falling Down. Am I wrong? Have I missed anything?
It’s in all honesty not much of an action movie, the scenes terribly staged and edited, another case of the viewer not having a clue what is going on. It’s as unimaginative as it gets, ADHD Eisenstein. However, as satire and social commentary it is terrifyingly on the ball about today’s nightmarish cultural landscape. It actually predicted 2020.
It nails the all-out assault on language, the SJW proscription against alternate viewpoints, the restriction of real individualism in the quest for Utopia. Who knew that offending someone could be a crime? Well, it sadly is these days. Because they (the crusading creatures) have been allowed to get away with this.
The only thing this movie gets wrong is the method of wiping one’s arse. Britons will be doing it ‘Old Skool’ until the next extinction-level event.
Abbeyhill, Edinburgh. A cat eyeballed me this morning. I ran away.
Nothing much to see here – just the Abbeyhill jungle cat lording it over its kingdom.
Miami Vice (2006) is peak Michael Mann.
It may not have the character-driven intricacies (and intensity) of Heat (1995) or The Insider (1999), but this is a technically perfect cops-and-robbers flick, pure genre. It takes itself so seriously; indeed, on this recent viewing I did not detect a single comedic moment or anything even approaching irony.
Once again, Mann displays bizarre music choices; why on earth would anyone use Audioslave/Chris Cornell in a movie? It works here, though, something one can not say for Casino Royale (2006).
It’s all about the transcendental moments. Any other director wouldn’t feature the speedboat scene at all but Mann turns it into the movie’s centrepiece. It’s here that Farrell’s Sonny Crockett illustrates everything Mann thinks a … man should be. I imagine the filmmaker would be ashamed at the sight of a grown man crying.
As visual experiences go, the movie is dynamite, action cinema as art. Mann has a thing for dance sequences; here they supplant the need for dialogue. And it doesn’t matter because they are so … cinematic.
And I’ve never seen the TV show Miami Vice so I have no idea how this movie relates to it. Am I missing anything?
Further reading/viewing:
https://www.empireonline.com/movies/reviews/miami-vice-review/
The Office is still pure cringe.
More Netflix throwback viewing brought me to The Office, the early nougthies apotheosis of workplace ennui, inanities, and bury-your-head-in-your-hands moments of embarrassment. Your everyday office environment is so well portrayed that I actually know these people: the delusional ‘boss’ who’s been there for two decades and whose work defines his/her life, the go-getter who thinks they’re in the FBI or something, the joker who isn’t funny, and the roughly 50% of them who know it’s just a job so get on with it.
The most striking aspect of the show is how it highlights the existential funk of the vast majority of workplaces – what we do isn’t particularly important to anyone, and a monkey can perform most tasks if you train it correctly. One looks for meaning in the wrong places. I’ve always been dubious of folk who proudly announce, “I love my job.” They have to be either psychologically pumping themselves up to cope with the pain or are putting on a show, or have to be burdened with actual real-life mental issues.
Unless they have an interesting job. Which is a rarity.
Anyway, The Office defines life.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 