Up in the Air (2009) is infuriatingly dire.

The worst kind, cliché-ridden to the max and full of this wannabe-quirky office banter. It’s like the movie thinks it’s satire when it’s just stating the obvious in the most patronising way.

There are few things more boring than smug white-collar pros talking shop with the aim of beguiling the neutral (uninterested) listener and having them grab the glossary. This goes further, the protagonist informing the audience via the secondary character of kindergarten-level facts.

This reminded me of that movie Thank You for Smoking (2005), another object of my hatred. It was no surprise that it shares the same director. Yuk.

Clooney is, as always, a struggle to watch. He is a pointless actor with zero range. Folk keep telling me it’s all about his captivating personality. I see nothing there.

Some of the scenes here are ludicrous; there’s even a moment involving the lad Clooney showing the mousy female lead how to pack a suitcase for a flight. Clooney to the rescue.

I hated this movie. Hated it. Proper hatred. It needs removed from the planet.

Blonde (2022).

Andrew Dominik made Chopper (2000) and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007), so I’ll watch anything he makes, despite a batch of bad reviews for this one. I don’t know what these critics are on because this movie is dazzling from the get-go, an opening sequence featuring a Golden Age Hollywood in flames.

It’s a fascinating, absorbing watch, and you’re pulled right into the tapestry with the magnificent sound editing and cinematography, Dominik a master of his canvas. And it’s one dark canvas, Monroe a bullied, manipulated, tragic figure, less a character than a metaphor for Hollywood itself. I can see why so many folk hate this movie – it’s realism at its most brutal, the myth busted.

How to summarise it? An NC-17 anti-biopic with more visual treats than most of the crap pumped out by the system it lambasts.

I’ll be watching again in a few weeks.

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A Civil Action (1998).

James Gandolfini is the scene-stealer once again. It’s as if in every role outside of Tony Soprano, he went out of his way to demonstrate his range and ability to walk off with the movie.

A non-showy courtroom drama more concerned with characterisation than your standard John Grisham, there are also no Aaron Sorkin-style third-act histrionics. The subtle tête-à-tête is the big spectacle here, Travolta and Duvall making sure to keep it low-key but always interesting.

Rather than the melodrama, this is more concerned with how law works and how it can be manipulated. The good guys don’t always win – it’s not a profound point but so few of these pictures make it. Or have such an out-of-his-depth protagonist.

Better than most.

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The Gray Man (2022). Daft and dull as hell.

This felt like it was seven hours long and not in a good way. It was a series of relentless explosions and fisticuffs all shot through with no imagination and zero need for any of it to be happening. Sometimes with nonsense like this fare it can be a lot of fun, but not here.

The mammoth budget is shocking (what a waste), but the most irritating thing was the totally charmless Chris Evans’ attempt to make himself interesting by having a silly moustache. It’s even commented upon in the movie in a rare moment of self-awareness.

I don’t even know what this was even about (a stolen disc or something). So boring, the highlight was that most of the scenes reminded me of far superior movies.

Pish.

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Midnight Express (1978). This movie is a pile of shite.

The wee exposition and the build up are awarded a wee semi-kudos, as is the stark style throughout. It was also one of the last motion pictures with the existence of a telephoto lens. It does feel too much like an Oliver Stone movie, which doesn’t say much about the film’s hack director.

It’s well shot. That’s all I can compliment it with.

The utter stupidity and narcissism of the smuggling Billy Hayes vexed me even down to his semi-mullet, which even got to the stage of him jerking off to an ex through a glass window. The needlessly sensational violent scenes (one with Hayes spitting out a tongue of a guard he’s just jousted) were even more out of place.

The appearance of the father only intensified my dislike of this rubbish movie, the constant hatred of Turkey, and even from this bloke, who appears at first to be an avuncular sort; there is a scene in which he even slags off the locale cuisine.

It was only good when it avoids the very disconcerting politics. Stone has always been a beguiling one, an alleged left-winger/liberal with a predilection for casual racism and a fawning thing for dictators. This is one of his worst contributions to human history.

The funniest bit of this atrocious movie was the ending, when he even can’t walk away from a prison properly. At the appearance of a military car he slumps his shoulders back like an outcast goblin in a cathedral.

Horrid film. Absolute crap.

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Million Dollar Baby (2004) is a horrifying watch.

Saw this once. Hated it.

Saw it again last week. Hated it.

Not the movie – I’d say it’s extraordinary, but I hated the experience of watching it. The gloom and the dread and the realism and Clint being a very unhappy Clint. I just mind folk were peeved because he won the Best Director Academy Award over Marty for his The Aviator (2004), a standard Oscar bait biopic and one of the few Scorsese movies not even worthy of a second viewing.

Clint does this thing – he will make five stinkers in a row but then pull a motion picture out the bag that totally blows away all doubters.

But I’m never watching it again.

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The Card Counter (2021). Brilliant and vintage Paul Schrader.

This guy makes movies about the worst people, humans you don’t even want to know. But he always draws out the dimensions and probes at the reasons why people are the way they are. He’s the most mature filmmaker, a bloke actually interested in the human psyche and how film can treat this. He’s also clearly obsessed with Robert Bresson. The ending here, I think he’s done the Pickpocket (1959) tribute a dozen times now.

The acting in this is magisterial and the style of Schrader always suits his stories; he’s so underrated as an artist, perhaps because he’s not razzmatazz, but he can be when the moment needs it.

Most films these days are fucking pathetic, either derivative tripe, childish nonsense about superheroes, or leftist politics running riot at the expense of story or ideas. There is no fun in The Card Counter but that’s the essence and point of it – it’s gruelling and heartbreaking, like Travis Bickle taking a WASP to a porn movie (thank you, Paul Schrader).

Schrader is one of the few left with a soul and the lad has been kicking about for half a century. I define ‘The Few’ as writers and directors who make cinema about and for adults and aren’t afraid to take risks and put themselves out there. He’s incredible and we need many more gems from the lad.

This is a proper masterpiece.

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Jean-Luc Godard. Cheers.

I’ll leave it Roger Ebert to summarise the master: ‘Godard is a director of the very first rank; no other director in the 1960s has had more influence on the development of the feature-length film. Like Joyce in fiction or Beckett in theater, he is a pioneer whose present work is not acceptable to present audiences. But his influence on other directors is gradually creating and educating an audience that will, perhaps in the next generation, be able to look back at his films and see that this is where their cinema began.’

Scorsese brought me here:

Further reading/viewing:

https://variety.com/2022/film/columns/jean-luc-godard-tribute-remembered-breathless-1235371061/

https://loeildelaphotographie.com/en/in-memoriam-jean-luc-godard-1930-2022-dv/

https://www.theguardian.com/film/2022/sep/14/godard-shattered-cinema-martin-scorsese-mike-leigh-abel-ferrara-luca-guadagnino-and-more-pay-tribute

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American Made (2017).

With his natural, unforced charm and (still) boyish looks, it’s easy for many to dismiss Cruise as being of a limited range, a man of few talents but maximising them. It’s a nonsense argument when you scroll through the magnificent works and superlative performances. You can name at least 15 films worthy of repeat viewings, some verified modern classics. I don’t think he’s ever had a bad role, and to lazily use a well-worn idiom, he has aged like a fine wine.

American Made (2017) is rollicking fun, an ’80s throwback which is amusing as Cruise remains an ’80s throwback but he’s an ’80s throwback … throwing back … the present. What I’m trying to get at is: he’s still relevant.

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Tron (1982) is better than almost all movies about computers despite the stinking … special effects.

When I say special effects, I mean that the CGI (is it?) on display is the worst ever but it works to perfection because of how daft it looks. This was the way things were back in 1982; the movie is a remnant of its time more than anything else.

It’s the only movie that doesn’t seem outlandish yet it is. Jeff Bridges being zapped into a computer is somehow credible in this joyously entertaining film. As for the sequel – terrible dialogue, boring cast, but a Daft Punk score for the ages. Bangers!