Category Archives: Uncategorized

These earlier episodes of The Sopranos – almost the entire first season – are terrible.

The episodes are rammed with so much slapstick comedy you can’t take any of this seriously. The scenarios are frankly ridiculous and there is something desperate about it all with the weak psycho babble.

We also have to tolerate the constant silly references to gangster movies and even have to put up with Silvio Dante’s Michael Corleone quotes which his goon associates (everyone in it is a goon) appear to find rib-splittingly hilarious. It’s not funny on any level. It’s embarrassing watching these actors attempt to act amused.

You’re looking at something made in 1999; I suppose TV at the time was a lot different back then and The Sopranos was a benchmark in terms of onscreen violence and bringing a cinematic feel to the small screen, but the first season is very cartoon-like and childish by today’s standards. The later seasons are a different show altogether, intrinsically more mature and less juvenile. And about something.

Which is for the best.

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Touch of Evil (1958) is barking mad.

An entirely and completely odd movie, this one. It is a riot and for 1958 pushes it to the limit. I keep hearing B-Movie but it’s got an A-list cast, a combination of the past and the future. You’ve got a washed-up, bloated (to be polite) Welles looking just dreadful and Marlene Dietrich seemingly popping in and out of an opium haze. I have no idea why she is in this movie but she’s there. As is Zsa Zsa Gabor.

With Welles it’s once again the bravura cinematography and sound design. I always thought of Orson as Howard Hawks with a lot more edge, that within the confines of a bog-standard script he could unearth, indeed inject, a bit of madness and run with it like no other.

The border town here is the seediest wee town. It just defines sleaze. Almost every character is nuts or says something so silly it had to be Welles doing it for a laugh. The roaming camera is an addiction, and there is always something going on at the back or edge of frame. The story is constantly in motion yet we get hints of another narrative kicking off beyond the mise en scène. That’s a talent.

And I did not know until today that the character of Al Schwartz (District Attorney’s Assistant) is played by the same bloke who was the creepy Highway Patrol Officer in Psycho (1960). Take a bow, Mort Mills.

And I’m not the only one who can say that The Player (1992) and Get Shorty (1995) brought me to this wonderful motion picture. Cinema is a land of allusions.

Riot!

Edinburgh rubble.

The new St. James Centre still under construction. I refuse to go in. The former crime against architecture defined eyesore but was imbued with wee personal memories. 

The Virgin Megastore, for example. I stole a manky copy of Sliver (1993) from a car boot sale once and ‘returned’ it to the shop. Got £18 in vouchers and bought The Phantom Menace (1999) and Das Boot (1984) on DVD. 

It might be possible today. Experiment incoming.

And what happened to Sgt. Barnes?

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Bad Lieutenant (1992) and Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans (2009).

If you’re going to watch ‘companion piece’ movies then these two barking mad features are the ones for you.

The only thing really connecting them is the title, the film from 2009 the most loose ‘remake’ ever. Harvey Keitel goes Full-Harvey and Nicolas Cage goes Full-Cage. You can’t choose a winner. The films aren’t about plotting or themes; they are just an opportunity for the actor to do a Brando, go a wee bit nuts. And it’s a joy to watch. Stay off the drugs, people!

Somehow, Kietel and Cage both wound up in an appalling feature named National Treasure (2004), phoning it in in the worst way. They look bored shitless. As was I. But one has to pay the bills so I forgive them.

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The Dumb and Dumber (1994) soundtrack is an event.

The movie is a masterpiece that would not get made today; can you imagine what the hysterics would do to Twitter? I will write all about this some other time.

The soundtrack, though. Oh my. It’s quite possibly the best compendium of ‘tunage’ ever. 1994 was a grand year for all involved, even if Jeff Daniels got blown up by Dennis Hopper.

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Sunshine (2007) went apeshit.

And for no apparent reason.

An hour in and you’re thinking that if the movie can keep it together the experience could quite possibly be up there with the best of them, a thought-provoking sci-fi masterpiece for the ages. But then it descends into sub-slasher ridiculousness, a third act that feels like the team behind Event Horizon (1997) rejected it. This happens quite a lot with these movies, and even more so when it comes to TV shows. There’s so much expertly paced build-up that goes … nowhere. Why try and turn it into a horror? The makers simply didn’t know how to fulfill all the promise or how to end it so resorted to cheap genre ‘thrills’, frenzied cutting and pointless bombast.

But for 70 minutes this is great. I highly recommend turning it off once it gets silly. And then proceed to stick 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) on.

Sorted.

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If you designed the perfect blockbuster The Mummy (1999) would be it.

There’s a deep and thoughtful longing – which I very much approve of – at the moment for the return of Brendan Fraser, and it appears to have been massively aided by this GQ article, the piece a rarity of this sort in how well written and insightful it is. The lad is captivating, refreshingly honest, and an actor who was simply great in everything – believable, relatable, but with an edge. He always gave me the impression that he had been parachuted into the film and we were there to follow him on his journey. A stoic naïveté was strong with this one. Is that not what a reluctant hero is?

The Mummy (1999) is awesome, Fraser pulling off the Indiana Jones role with aplomb. It was awesome at the time but now it has been elevated. I’d sum the never-boring riot as good old-fashioned popcorn entertainment which uses CGI in a productive way, i.e., you can see the point of its use. It works and without it the movie wouldn’t succeed to the extent that it does. A fine juggling act is mastered between live action, the digital effects, pacing, and characterisation. It is a silly affair but a good silly.

Even John Hannah isn’t that annoying. And he annoys me in everything. Aside from this, where he is only slightly annoying. Special mention to Kevin J. O’Connor whose Beni Gabor steals the show, an apparent weasel of greed, self-interest, and opportunism, yet somehow in the most underwritten role he squeezes out the comedy and, dare I say it, the pathos. Almost everything he does, I’d do the same in his shoes.

I would recommend this movie to just about anyone.

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News of the World (2020) is a relentless snore.

Once again, Tom Hanks is a flawless, completely morally incorruptible hero who never puts a foot wrong, never makes a mistake, and is not really affected by anything that goes on. Someone needs to just stop the lad from pulling this act. As silly as this sounds, I’ve never rated him as an actor nor his pathetic bargain basket Jimmy Stewart shtick. He’s a vacuum. There is nothing there. He is so dull.

I did expect more from Paul Greengrass, though, given the immense quality of his CV. But this film was a disaster, a procession of one generic snooze-scene after another. I wasn’t just bored out of my mind; it got to the stage around 40 minutes in where I started to predict what would happen next and how the flick would end. I passed with flying colours.

What an absolute waste of time this movie was. I burst out laughing at one bit when Hanks went Full-Mark Antony and somehow managed to start a mob riot through his oratorical mastery of reading a newspaper. I’ve been more inspired by a three-day-old sweetcorn in one of my dumps.

Avoid (the movie) like … anything which vexes you, really.

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Point Blank (1967). How fabulous this is.

Lee Marvin had a bonkers year in 1967, this thriller and The Dirty Dozen representing the peak of his cult, not that your random audience member knew it at the time. They are a curious twosome as Point Blank appears a blueprint for a future style of film aesthetics and the Robert Aldrich ripper a throwback or definition of the classical form, if not in its then-graphic onscreen violence. It’s a watershed 52 weeks. I wasn’t alive back then, and thank fuck. But it looks eventful (just watch The Graduate).

What a seductive picture, and even the jarring time jumps work to reinforce the dreamy atmosphere of the film. The precise framing and use of colour, it LOOKS AMAZING (CAPS LOCK ALERT). The overlapping sound is pre-Robert Altman but betters those seminal works because it’s more than a silly afterthought or accident. There are scenes in this which require so little dialogue they may as well be Godard in a traffic jam. It’s an exercise in stylistics. You get this with first-time filmmakers or those in the early throes of the game – the bold choices, the going with the instinct. Peckinpah retained it almost to the end. Scorsese – the last man standing – still has it.

This is peak Tarantinto three decades before peak Tarantino. But without the feet obsession.

It’s also hilarious. Marvin has to be the coolest bloke to ever be off his tits. He retains throughout a semi-plastered hangdog expression and even in his quietest rage barely looks interested in proceedings. It’s all too easy for Marvin. All he wants is his cash but not even the corporate pyramid semi-responsible for his fate are even capable of doing the basics. Almost everyone in this movie is useless. It’s a life lesson.

Point Blank is a relic and a template.

P.S. There is no relation between this and Point Break (1991), which I watched a few weeks ago.

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