Category Archives: Uncategorized

Nicolas Cage and a pig ….

I was never sceptical that Nicolas Cage couldn’t do it, but when you hear ominous rumours swirling about of a movie consisting of Nicolas Cage trying to find his stolen truffle pig, I was a wee bit … concerned. But I shouldn’t have been.

Cage pulls it off with aplomb (of course he would have). He excels at normal-weird, if this makes sense. I define it as weirdness with an explanation. He’s a rather unorthodox actor, to say the least, but even in flicks ripe for garbage disposal, he’s always interesting.

Pig (2021) did surprise me. It wasn’t shit or pretentious or boring. It’s a curious wee arthouse number with Cage at the centre, occasionally losing his shit as Cage does, but ultimately all in service of the character. It’s no masterpiece but feels like it should be.

He just wants his pig back.

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Seinfeld is an addiction.

And it’s still very much unique. These characters don’t learn anything, no ‘life lessons’ or any of that. They simply go from episode to episode trying to make sense of the Manhattan cultural lexicon. There’s something kid of refreshing and honest about it, and unlike Friends it doesn’t resort to a cheap pulling of the heartstrings. It’s also way funnier.

Thank you, Netflix.

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Executive Decision (1996).

This curious movie wouldn’t be made today, with its suicide bombers and hijackers. And Seagal (sort of) headlining a motion picture. The good news is he isn’t in it for long, which kind of adds to the charm. Roger Ebert’s review at the time is hilarious, “I perked right up” his description of Seagal’s death. And when a sleazy J.T. Walsh turns up in a film you just know it’s going to be a ludicrous ’90s riot.

It has the most irritating scene and character title intros ever, this digital text at the bottom of the screen with that gimmicky digital noise. You know what I’m referring to? If not, then watch it. This was an age when shite like this was churned out monthly. Almost every single one of these films contains an identical round table discussion of generals/admirals with the lone voice of reason/geeky interloper in the middle. It’s the Golden Age of shite. Before everyone got so sensitive.

Anyway, it’s a highly entertaining hoot, popcorn nonsense for a lazy Sunday.

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Gattaca (1997).

This was way ahead of its time, and quite the clever picture. It goes for moments of transcendence rather than thrills, but it mildly feels like a wasted opportunity despite how cerebral it is. You need some thrills to go with the admittedly effective navel-gazing. The casting doesn’t help; can you imagine a proper thesp in the lead, the intensity of a peak Clive Owen?

It’s a very good movie, though, despite the stilted performances. It’s about something. This is a rarity; most of the stuff blasted into cinemas these days – I don’t even know what these movies even purport to be. There’s a glimmer of a theme but in most cases it’s 20-odd topics mashed together by committee.

This has the odd effect of being a film without an obvious style; I can’t remember a single striking shot (SSS), but it somehow works in its favour, anonymity successful.

And Michael Nyman once again proves he’s the best at … Michael … Nymanesque scores.

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The Signalman (1976) is a classic for a reason.

It’s totally gripping and eerie and surely too adult and atmospheric for TV. One would think for that era, anyway. Denholm Elliott is best known for his role as Dr. Marcus Brody in the Indiana Jones movies, but he was more than capable of going proper convincingly nuts in a Gothic horror.

This is Charles Dickens done right.

Here we are:

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The Haunting (1999) gave me nightmares. Not because it’s scary but because it’s shit.

It is not scary in any way; I’ve found the state of one of my jobbies to me more terrifying. What often puzzles me upon the viewing of atrocious movies is, did they realise they were making utter rubbish or were they under the impression that a masterpiece was in the works? The lunacy of the script aside, the ‘acting’ here is hysterically bad, with Owen Wilson giving perhaps the worst ‘performance’ of 1999. One does, however, feel some sympathy for the lad given that his dialogue is from the bargain bin.

So badly shot and edited, but hilarious in unintended ways, I would recommended this to film students. We could maybe have a module: ‘This is how not to make a movie.’

Just … wow.

Even the trailer is laughable.

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Cruel Intentions (1999) is the peak of every single actor in it.

Original Cinema Quad Poster – Movie Film Posters

It’s a surreal accident. I’d declare it a masterpiece if it didn’t feature Tara Reid.

P.S. Smashing tits.

American History X (1998). A modern tragedy.

Edward Norton was the last zeitgeist of the 20th century.

It sounds risible but it isn’t if you look at the body of work – he somehow captured everything, hit every nail. It was most likely by accident; that or he was incredibly good at choosing projects. He’s not really hit those heights since but the talent remains. He just needs a director to take a chance on him.

This is a sometimes horrifying movie and there are moments you almost have to skip. The film is biblical in its capturing of the transitory nature of happiness. These very real characters are stuck there with no escape. But they have a few wee happy moments. A few. It’s a long time since 1998 but not really, in the sense that someone said to me the Berlin Wall has been down longer than it had been up. You couldn’t make a movie these days with Ed Norton emerging from a cathartic shower with a Big Bertha-sized swastika on his chest. Today, this narrative would have the compulsory strong-willed female, a disabled character, obvious life lessons, and a happy ending. Cinema today is essentially and only social politics.

Derek Vinyard is the pre-eminent example of charismatic authority – everything he says at the dinner table is incorrect but he captivates through the intensity of the delivery. Bloody hell, who got Best Actor (when the Oscars were relevant) over this lad?! I think it was that exasperating Italian bloke who thankfully disappeared from cinema after his Academy Award.

And what the fuck was happening with the director calling himself ‘Humpty Dumpty’? My research is limited.

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Howard’s End (1992). Oh my!

This movie quietly defines the quietly adventurous. It’s so basic Mise-en-scène and placid and it should be boring but it isn’t because there’s a reasoning behind the dull stylistics. These were Edwardian times; apparently you couldn’t say what you think and lived a life of repressed longings (to speak) or whatever.

Hopkins is out of this world here; he is incapable of ‘normal’. He can barely hold a conversation with another actor; almost everything he does is a monologue. He is unique and he didn’t become Hannibal for no apparent reason.

Despite their apparent quaintness, Merchant–Ivory did make some crackers. The Remains of the Day (1993) is their undoubted masterpiece, a Hopkins masterclass again. This is the prototype for these type of movies, of which there are more and more these days because they are a safe bet. None are any good, however. I took one look at a recent upstairs-downstairs thing and turned it off after 178 seconds.

Most of this shite is just … shite we send to our former colonial subjects. They think we are actually like this.

Nonsense.

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