Category Archives: Art

Traffic (2000).

Watched this again after a decade-long hiatus. I didn’t like it at all, mainly because I wasn’t really paying attention. I knew something was wrong with my approach, mainly that one should actually concentrate on the potential cinematic treat instead of fiddling with an iPhone.

The documentary triumph of it stems undoubtedly from the director’s expertise behind the camera, a rarity in that the helmsman can indeed operate one. The colour schemes for the narrative strands make sense, and nothing about it feels dated at all, even if seeing Catherine Zeta-Jones in a movie is a strange experience. I genuinely forgot she was ever in films.

A message movie and an education piece which works as a thriller.

And stay off the crack.

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Arnold.

I personally find him extraordinarily inspirational.

His ego must be bananas but it’s justified – he started from zilch and made it to the summit through body and mind. I would buy him a pint. I’d vote for him also. 

Despite some big boo-boos that he openly admits to, he remains the definition of hero. 

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Ripley’s Game (2002).

This is the John Malkovich Show.

He is so perfect as Ripley, camp and creepy and always funny, you almost wish he could de-age a wee bit in 1999 and play the eponymous nutjob in The Talented Mr Ripley, which is a belter in its own right.

This film is just great, a thriller which is amusing, and a proper character piece. It’s about how little innocuous things lead to grand dramas, and how petty acts have far-reaching consequences. And how Ray Winstone really should not have an earring.

A riot of a movie.

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Melancholia (2011).

The personal narratives – mega meltdowns – linked to an Extinction Level Event (ELE) is a lofty ambition but the director cannot be faulted for his audacity, and this film has a preternatural quality from the start with its striking opening and inspired use of Wagner (Tristan und Isolde).

We also have an acidic Charlotte Rampling, a plastered John Hurt, and Kiefer Sutherland doing his best ‘Fuming Mode’ in quite some time. There are scenes of such awkwardness in the first act that it’s a genuine feat to have put them together in rapid succession. Then we get all apocalyptic and it somehow works. There are so few movies like this, one toils to put it in a category.

It’s fucking depressing but in a good way. 

Further reading/viewing:

https://slate.com/technology/2011/11/lars-von-trier-s-melancholia-what-are-the-chances-of-a-planetary-collision.html

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Bugsy (1991).

Warren Beatty was/is a movie star powerhouse, combining glamour looks and supreme acting talent, a 2 in 1. His notorious obsession with control over projects is confusing here, as he didn’t direct this. Anyway, he is magnetic as always, charming and unnerving and frequently hilarious. From his tantrums to his child-like enthusiasm and naïveté, he is totally credible. I suppose that’s acting.

An impressive movie if not quite great, its best attributes are the pacing and the fact it trusts its audience. There are none of the usual biopic pitfalls of the lengthy exposition which explains everything, and the schematic insertion of historical facts for the audience.

A glossy borderline melodrama which does it just the right way. Worth a watch for Beatty.

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That poster.

Whiplash (2014) is a cracking movie, eh. I would say … draining. It promotes a bit of an American Dream fallacy, though, namely that hard work = success. Nonsense. I could work like a sheep dog for 19 hours a day for seven years trying to fathom how the Tim Robbins character managed to escape Shawshank State Penitentiary yet perfectly place the poster (from the assembly point of the tunnel he dug) back on the cell wall … and still have no answers.

It makes no sense.

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The Bounty (1984).

This was verily an impressive motion picture, and it starts with the cast, even though the highly irritating, 100% talentless ‘lad’ from ghastly ’90s British TV series Men Behaving Badly is somehow in it.

The music is pure Vangelis and it suits the story and locales surprisingly well; one wouldn’t expect Blade Runner (1982) stuff to work in this setting. The attention to detail (life on a ship) is necessary, the toils a clear element in the breakdown of the crew, most of them toothless goons who appear to have been press-ganged. You can see the temptation to mutiny. It’s the late 1700s and you’re presented with Tahiti when all you’ve got upon return to Great Britain is living in a cesspool. 

The weirdo Anthony Hopkins does his best weirdo Anthony Hopkins, which is just the right amount of weird.

The Robert Bolt screenplay is a tad disappointing. After the craftily put together exposition, he resorts to homoerotic undertones to explain Bligh’s reaction to Christian’s shagging, which is just lazy writing. And there’s not enough drama on display, which sounds nuts considering the scenes. Not enough characterisation, no scenes exploring a character doing anything outwith the collective, not enough style that grabs; you’re in the hands of a most journeyman director.

But it works despite of its bad handler.

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Everything That Happens Will Happen Today – Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps (2010) brought me here. Or vice versa.

And I didn’t even know it until I heard ‘Strange Overtones’ on the radio and somehow connected the dots. This album just made Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps (2010) a hell of a lot better; talk about being suited to a film. And as a stand-alone album, oh yes.

It’s time to reavulate the sequel to Gekko. For the second time.

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Scream 2 (1997). It’s a scream.

One of the many sequels I saw before the original, like my viewings of Aliens (1986) and The Godfather Part II (1974), both films alluded to in the life-imitating-art film class scene in the hugely impressive horror Scream 2 (1997).

The truly annoying-as-hell Jerry O’Connell aside, this movie is fabulous, with frighteningly tense scenes, a tight script, witty dialogue, and a rather gnarly soundtrack. There’s also a genuine romance (Dewey and Gale) and David Warner managing to be creepy merely by being there. And as self-reflexive as it is, its postmodern obsessions doesn’t stop it being up there in the vanguard of the slasher movie. 

Wes Craven was the best. And poor Randy Meeks, eh. Pray for Randy. 

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The Ninth Gate (1999).

Tell you what, this wasn’t bad at all and I usually can’t stand Depp. 

He is on a short leash here, and Frank Langella gives perhaps the best creepy phone performance (mostly) ever. 

It’s got this low-key, slow-burning atmosphere that is bizarrely twinned, somehow to effect, with intentional comedy deriving from awkward social and professional interactions, and I know all about those for they happen every hour. Despite the supernatural elements, they are cloaked in a story that works as a basic thriller.

And the score by Wojciech Kilar. Listen to this and Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992) for a double bill. 

Further reading:

https://www.looper.com/842473/the-ending-of-the-ninth-gate-explained/#:~:text=Encased%20in%20a%20ring%20of,him%20out%20of%20his%20misery.

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