The nostalgia trip is strong with this one, and it is done in such an artful way that it builds upon the 1984 … middling flick and goes into new directions that feel organic and … well, correct. It’s such an entertaining show at times and only today would it get made. The wait has been worth it, and I feel there is a benchmark quality here, a premonition of other ’80s movies getting the TV treatment.
I want to see Flashdance (1983) given the treatment.
It’s still relevant because the story is universal and it’s by far the best directed and scripted of the historical epics, most of which are hackneyed affairs and wholly painful to watch. Aside from the Anthony Mann opening sequence, you can see the emergence of Kubrick’s style all over the picture despite the official record that he was constantly bickering with Kirk Douglas and screenwriter Dalton Trumbo. It also features perhaps the best ensemble of British acting talent from that era, Olivier, Ustinov, and Laughton showing the Americans how it’s done. Indeed, it’s almost a bit embarrassing viewing Douglas and Tony Curtis try and hold their own with the peerless Laurence Olivier; they appear awed by his presence.
His Crassus is a nasty fucker, but as always with Olivier he injects the ‘bad guy’ with layers and you can see where he’s coming from in what he does. His rivalry with Charles Laughton’s Senator Gracchus perfectly parallels the rebellion, and there’s a simple but historical truth to the outcome: order and dictatorship over anarchy every time. Special mention to Peter Ustinov who provides a chuckle in every scene, an obsequious slave-trader character usually bemused by proceedings.
Not bad battle stuff, either.
This pops into my head every time:
‘One thing I could never stand was to see a filthy, dirty old drunkie, howling away at the filthy songs of his fathers and going blurp blurp in between as it might be a filthy old orchestra in his stinking, rotten guts. I could never stand to see anyone like that, whatever his age might be, but more especially when he was real old like this one was.’
When this came out nine years ago I must confess I was blown away and wouldn’t accept any criticism of it. The arty-farty Ridley visuals and production design did it for me as well as the religious and philosophical themes at work. I figured it a sci-fi horror that actually asked probing questions, though offered no answers.
Another viewing and I think I was a bit (very) wrong about this movie. It still holds up remarkably well on a technical level and does indeed comprise a few of the mankiest scenes you can imagine, especially a rather gruesome moment featuring an incubator, Noomi Rapace, and a squid … thing (you know what I mean). But it’s just so utterly stupid. Not just the premise but the incomprehensible characters and the daft things they do. I’ve frequented many a supermarket so know there are legit dumbbells out there, but the folk in this are dumber than a box of rocks. Everything they do is nonsensical. And they’re meant to be scientists and geologists and engineers and pilots!
I was so frustrated with the mass idiocy on display that I put a dent in the laptop. I could go on for a million words but it’s all best summarised by this classic Honest Trailer:
That’s brutal. But correct.
For years, I forgot this existed. Then someone sent me a snap of Hamburg and I remembered a rather excellent wee spy thriller set in the city. Philip Seymour Hoffman, or THE HOFF, was magnetic in everything he did but with The Master (2012), this is his masterpiece. There’s something so sincere and likeable about his ability to get real, and what I mean by that is a gift to portray what one would deem as flawed character traits, warts and all, what humans are actually like.
Hamburg on film is a daunting task. This film really does capture the international feel of the city. I just remember it being absolutely fucking freezing. I went for a jog around the port one afternoon and ended up in a political rally. It was cinematic. Anyway, to Hoffman. You were the best.
One might deem it ‘the genesis’, a foundation of style and themes. There’s a sacred quality to the pre-digital age and this is why they are better movies – one had to really think about how to construct the visuals and it wasn’t a case of throwing the camera around and waiting for something to happen. It’s a basic non-point to make but films today are beyond pathetic because they are so far from artistry it’s a 1,000-crewed ‘collaborative effort’. There have been several exceptions but almost everything is identical, every film conforming to the same storyboard.
It’s a terrifying experience firing up Netflix.
A time machine quality swirls around this flick. Whether it’s the throwback cinematography that apes Gregg Toland or the peculiar sound recording that could be lifted straight from the seminal Citizen Kane (1941) or merely the endlessly fascinating subject matter – Kane’s production history, its bonkers cast and crew. The movie was a joy to watch. It captures ‘Old Hollywood’ like no other; not that I was there, but it’s how I’ve always pictured the era. The sleaze, the smoky rooms, the shameless greed, the debauchery, the magnates and barons mixing with screenwriters and journalists, a glorious melting pot with movies the rarefied outcome.
It’s not just a portrait of an untouchable epoch, though. The … tribute is married to actual human stories, the individual struggles that inspire and spark creative output, the roman-à-clefs that writers as omniscient as Herman J. Mankiewicz soaked up like a sponge. When you read into types like this – Ben Hecht also comes to mind – you can’t help but admire the way they dipped into Bohemian Grove.
This might also be the most unusual movie David Fincher has made. I will have to view it again for I did not detect any ‘Fincherisms’.
Further reading:
But they ruined him. It’s another example of writing ‘jumping the shark/sofa’. He did a terrible deed – burning your kin is not the best move – and no one believed the sincerity of it for a second. It sums up how appalling Game of Thrones got in its last two pathetic seasons. It was ghastly, infected with bizarre vignettes that went NOWHERE.
The actor Stephen Dillane is the best in the show and he nails the character – absolutely and totally miserable, consumed with hatred. Even if he sat on the Iron Throne I can imagine he’d be bored to death and questioning his life role. That’s my kind of human. His quotes are incredible.
The crème de la crème: “A good act does not wash out the bad, nor a bad the good.”
Fucking hell. Fancy a pint?
Saw this for the first time in decades and bloody hell is it dull. It’s just so boring, which I find rather mental because it’s about UFOs and all that, and Spielberg is a master craftsman. It’s shot here like a TV movie, its depiction of suburbia painfully tedious. Even when the weird-looking critters arrive at the end it’s underwhelming. The only curiosity to be found is the casual appearance of François Truffaut, who is eminently more interesting than those around him.
Something else bothered me about it. It’s so naive, with government agencies portrayed as even being benevolent. What a weird decision, this just after the twin calamities of Watergate and the American involvement in the Vietnam War.
Never watching it again and I do not understand why it’s lauded.
These lads of course have every right to fiddle to their hearts’ content with pictures they’ve made, but it’s getting out of control now. I don’t even know how many different versions of Blade Runner (1982) there are (I’ve only seen one), I hear there is now another edition of Apocalypse Now (1979), and I was yesterday informed that The Godfather Part III (1990) is now being re-released this month but with a completely different structure and with an alternate title. What is going on?
For me, the art that was produced at a specific stage is what it is (for lack of a better phrase) and all it will ever be. I have no time for tweaking, chopping, changing, re-editing, and periodic revisionism. Stop trying to fix what was at that moment your best or worst effort, move on, come up with a new idea. It’s got something to do with grasping for perfection, but the problem is that the films I’ve mentioned are far from perfect. Even the films I rate as ‘transcendental’ (The Third Man, Vertigo, Lawrence of Arabia) have giant flaws but that just adds to the appeal; I hate to appropriate an Oasis song, but true perfection has to be imperfect.
Dear directors, just STOP IT.
Give us something else.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 