Category Archives: Art

Fawlty Towers – leave it alone!

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The current liberal/woke/SJW mission – they are in the tentative throes of an unofficial alliance these days – is their war on the past, their need to chop and change, to ‘fix’ that which does not conform to their present-day ‘world view’, to erase artefacts from another age which were celebrated in that age. Their fascistic ways are influential: we have it here with the latest act of cowardice by BBC-owned UKTV in their pulling of Fawlty Towers episode The Germans, an iconic staple of British TV originally aired in 1975 yet now derided by the aforementioned Axis of Intolerance. It has since been reinstated following counter-protests by what must be, and I hate to appropriate a Nixonian term, the Great Silent Majority.

Someone is offended! Phone the police! This war on … everything is the modus vivendi of hysteria culture. In the middle of a pandemic we now have folk trying to tear down statues of slave traders, these protesters (or whatever) wearing clobber made in Indonesia by slave children. The lack of self-awareness is almost funny.

I expect the following will soon appear on their proscriptions: anything Nazi-related, lauded TV series The Wire, the Crocodile Dundee movies, motion pictures featuring cross-dressing, The Silence of the Lambs (1991) because Buffalo Bill likes to put his willy between his legs, and Gone with the Wind (1939). Oh, wait a minute ….

What a horrible time to be alive. Plonkers.

Further reading/viewing:

https://news.sky.com/story/fawlty-towers-episode-pulled-over-racial-slurs-to-be-reinstated-by-uktv-12005814



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Good Bye, Lenin! (2003) revisited.

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I saw this movie many years ago and thought it rather great, but time distorts things. Goodbye Lenin! (2003) is an occasionally semi-funny insight into global changes impacting on the small scale; here, day-to-day life as experienced by an East German family going to increasingly elaborate lengths in maintaining the illusion of the GDR’s omniscience. The director’s stance as to reunification is a bit too ambiguous for me, the movie more concerned with a broad view of how the personal and political interweave, assessing the extent to which the society we live within affects us.

Why bother with such a contentious subject if you sit on the fence? This happens again and again.

It is at times a nauseating watch, almost an apologia for state tyranny. The film’s premise, pure Ostalgie, is that the economic and social constructs of the GDR, because of its restrictions on private wealth and public expression, harnessed a deep sense of togetherness felt by families. Wow. I won’t be watching it again. And all the Kubrick stylistic homages in it irritated me immensely.

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If Lenin! refrains from showing the horror of life in East Germany in vivid detail by opting to examine why in recent years it has been de-emphasised, it has paved the way for a more meticulous and exacting probing of the Stasi state in contemporary cinema through devastating films such as The Lives of Others (2007), with all the GDR’s greed, hypocrisy, paranoia, and corruption laid bare.

It is 2020 and some folk (I call them “social spastics”) identify as communists.

They are the walking demonstration of why society is forever crumbling.

Anyway, I fucking despised this movie. HATED it. Stay away.

Further reading/viewing:

https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2003/jul/25/artsfeatures.dvdreviews 

https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/goodbye-lenin-2004

https://www.theguardian.com/film/2007/apr/13/worldcinema.drama

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A Hidden Life (2019) – quintessential Malick.

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August Diehl holds one of those physiognomies of the Klaus Kinski variety, instantly recognisable and very creepy, more suited to playing the villain or the unhinged than the innocent. Diehl almost stole Inglorious Basterds (2009) from Christoph Waltz with his tavern-set scariness (in full Hugo Boss clobber). Here he pulls off the Jesus role with aplomb, a performance very much devoid of … dare-I-say-it – pretension. The worst performances by actors are the posturing sort which embarrassingly scream for an Oscar; none of that bombast here. And to give the movie more of a deathly air, Michael Nyqvist and Bruno Ganz both star in their final roles.

22 years after the release of The Thin Red Line (1998), Malick casts his spiritual magic once again on WWII, this time not on the soldiers at Guadalcanal but the German home front. Malick ticks all the Malick boxes = sweeping cinematography, incessant voice over, melancholic score, metaphysical monologues, and lots of nature and all that. It is a long sesh but with reason, and in no way a ‘slog’. The story of Franz Jägerstätter is one worth telling.

Further reading/viewing:

https://www.nationalww2museum.org/war/articles/story-austrian-catholic-resister-franz-jagerstatter

https://www.theguardian.com/film/2020/jan/19/a-hidden-life-terrence-malick-review

https://www.empireonline.com/movies/reviews/a-hidden-life/

https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/a-hidden-life-movie-review-2019

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I thought I was Deckard once.

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A thoroughly miserable mise-en-scène in Gorgie yesterday, though I don’t mind the deluge as the chavs stay indoors (mostly). Armed with a stolen umbrella, I for a very brief epoch possessed Blade Runner (1982) visions – Vangelis, Film Noir, a charismatic Dutch antagonist, 2019 premonitions vs. present day shenanigans.

Then I arrived at my conclusion: 2019 didn’t witness flying cars and robots you can have ‘life moments’ with; it was some berserk ginger midget in a 1997 Kappa tracksuit bolting up Gorgie Road with a stolen toaster, three tubby cops in tow.

That’s life.

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The Irishman (2019) is extraordinary.

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I finally signed up for the Netflix 30-day free trial – just for Scorsese. The three-and-a-half hour running time was well worth the two nauseating minutes it took to register. Bloody hell is it sublime. Scorsese pulls out all the stops in his … Scorseseness, yet the movie is something more than a swansong to the gangster epics that have served him so well.

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De-ageing VFX.

Elegiac, somber, the last half-hour is a strong contender for most tragic epilogue of the 2010s. It reminded me a bit of Once Upon a Time in America (1984) but without the sprawling romanticism shaped mainly by Ennio Morricone’s iconic score. De Niro here gives his best performance since Heat (1995), which is understandable since he’s spent two decades being Dirty Grandpa or Paul Vitti or tormenting a pratfalling Ben Stiller.

More importantly, Joe Pesci is back and he is majestic. You need to see him in this. You need to see this film.

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The Wicker Man (1973) is still shocking.

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The most disturbing thing about this bonkers movie is that it’s all a setup, almost every scene a parade to the unsuspecting cop getting burned to ashes. It’s a harrowing last 20 minutes because on first viewing you gradually realise what’s going on yet our protagonist doesn’t. Edward Woodward, though – what an acting job this is. He is captivating. I give it 5/5, … and I hate everything.

One scene makes no sense: Britt Ekland dancing about in the nip (body double, I hear) to a tune I recall remixed by Sneaker Pimps for the underrated Hostel (2005), The Equalizer stood there like a wee bairn in his jammies when she’s banging the walls for a bit of carnal action. There is no reason for that scene to be there but it’s weirdly memorable.

I’m not dipping into the Nicolas Cage remake because the awfulness of the movie is beyond a keyboard description and the snippet of scenes here speak for it all:

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Inglourious Basterds – a decade on.

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Discussing Once Upon a Time In Hollywood (2019) with a friend after seeing it the other evening, I was reminded that Tarantino’s genre-bending WWII-era masterpiece is now 10 years old this month. Some critics took umbrage at QT’s depiction of a commando unit of Jewish American soldiers as Allied equivalent Otto Skorzenies, but they’re missing the point: Tarantino is more likely including such things for the purpose of annoying his detractors rather than drawing any historical comparisons. He does it because he can.

Regardless of any ethical considerations when it comes to shooting history (and re imagining it), the movie is so witty and sometimes outright hilarious. It’s pure entertainment, and of all the post-Pulp Fiction (1994) Tarantino films, his least indulgent, with no unnecessary scenes stretching out the running time. We can also christen this ‘The Christoph Waltz show’. His Hans Landa is a behemoth, a cunning, sociopathic polyglot five steps ahead of everyone else. He even makes the eating of strudel captivating.

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N.B. There is an outrageous ‘Antonio Margheriti’ connection between Basterds and Hollywood, Donnie Donowitz’s alias he adopts for Landa the same moniker as the real-life Spaghetti Western director whom DiCaprio’s Rick Dalton stars for in Hollywood. 

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Waterloo (1970) – nostalgia clouds everything.

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Sadly, I’ve seen this movie more times than I have Barry Lyndon (1975), and this impressive calamity (accidental oxymoron) is what is universally posited as the reason Kubrick never made his Napoleon biopic.

It’s a hell of a logistical achievement, grand scale Abel Gance-like cinema utilising an entire Soviet infantry division; the sheer fact it got made is stupefying. At the same time it’s utterly dreadful, the director wielding his camera with carefree abandon, going from one style to the next like an ADHD child with a Tyco Xmas pressie. And the performances are dire, Rod Steiger’s Napoleon especially. He is constantly bulging his eyeballs, histrionics reaching Nicolas Cage levels. Even more fingernails-down-the-blackboard cringe are his inner monologues, the wee Corsican revealing his every banal thought to the audience.

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Yet it was always on TV, strangely on Sunday afternoons. It remains ‘just one of those things’. I’ll probably see it again (I voluntarily watched it the other day), my own guilty pleasure. As Pauline Kael said, ‘You talk less about good movies than about what you love in bad movies.’

Full horror show here:

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Russell A. Kirsch and the first digital image.

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This is the first digital image ever made or seen. The bloke Kirsch, a computer scientist, converted a photo of his child into binary form with some kind of scanner.

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It’s a terrifying image. The whole affair reminds me of that baby at the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968).

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Further reading:

https://petapixel.com/2010/11/04/first-digital-photograph-ever-made/

http://wafflesatnoon.com/first-digital-image/

https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2014/11/the-history-of-digital-imaging-began-with-a-baby-picture/382161/

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A Clockwork Balgreen.

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Visions of A Clockwork Orange (1971) every time I run the Balgreen gauntlet for the tram to York Place, Alex DeLarge and his droogies bashing in a poor drunken hobo for kicks. Such ultra-violence has probably happened half a dozen times in this foreboding underpass, but without the costumes and long eyelashes.

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