Tag Archives: Film

Gangster No. 1 (2000) is a gem.

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Saw this the other day after a long hiatus, and what an experience it is. With Sexy Beast (2000), it’s one of the few post Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998) Brit gangster movies that actually delivers; Christ, remember all the early noughties mockney garbage that pummelled audiences into paralysis? That was one rotten era, a silly chav flick out every other week. And they all seemed to feature twats.

Gangster No. 1 (2000), though, is so stylishly put together and shamelessly so, the performances at times terrifying, and it shows the actual power and results of the ability to inflict violence rather than nonchalantly shrugging off the act as something comical (all Guy Ritchie movies). The film is about something, which is a rarity these days.

And it’s so good to see Malcolm McDowell in a decent movie; it’s almost as if he made a conscious decision to star in tripe after knowing nothing could ever top if…. (1968) and A Clockwork Orange (1971). That’s a perfect double bill, by the way, and so too is Sexy Beast (2000) and Gangster No. 1 (2000) – proper carnage but arty proper carnage with lots of swearing.

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Sexy Beast (2000).

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The Mighty Ducks trilogy – good god.

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Some things shouldn’t be revisited, mainly items from childhood that fill you with nostalgic joy. The Mighty Ducks movies are a mighty (sorry) example of this. I was convinced they were masterworks because time is an emollient cream of sorts. By gum, these films are fucking dire.

Where to begin? We can start with Emilio Estevez’s face. It is unchanging throughout. The bloke has the acting chops of a turnip and the charisma of a sock. If he were my coach I’d quit the team. What is even worse, though, are the kids. They are so annoying that I think I’d spike their milk bottles with cyanide had I passed through the school system with them. The one exception is the fat bastard from Keenan and Kel who pops up in the sequel; he’s the only critter there with an IQ.

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And what a mad movie D2: The Mighty Ducks (1994) is. For some reason the bad guys are from Iceland. Every single one of them looks 10 years older than their age and appear to be either Neo-Nazis or overgrown members of the Hitler Youth. Their coach is even called ‘The Dentist’; Marathon Man (1976) flashbacks kicking in.

However, the theme tune is splendid and the Flying V looks aesthetically pleasing even though it makes zero fucking sense.

The ’90s were an odd time.

Further reading/viewing:

https://bleacherreport.com/articles/2141498-25-things-you-never-knew-about-the-mighty-ducks-trilogy

https://www.empireonline.com/movies/reviews/d2-mighty-ducks-review/

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The Swarm (1978). So bad it’s good?

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Michael Caine and … killer bees. Yes, the bloke – now a global institution – from Zulu (1964), The Italian Job (1969), Get Carter (1971), Hannah and Her Sisters (1986), and a smorgasbord of Christopher Nolan films in a twilight career resurgence, plays a constantly-shouting macho entomologist (one of a kind) in this thoroughly ridiculous disaster movie from the director of The Poseidon Adventure (1972) and The Towering Inferno (1974). It’s entertaining because it’s shite.

The attraction with garbage like this is that it’s comforting sometimes to see lauded thespians and ‘the elite’ brought down a peg or two; I’m thinking of ‘It’s a Royal Knockout’ as the prime example, though this escapade did not involve sociopath insects … oh, wait a minute.

Anyway, I can’t get my head around how some movies have come into existence, and struggle to picture the pitch made to executives who greenlit the thing – “This is about hyper-aggressive killer bees. We want the cockney bloke from The Ipcress File (1965).” I personally find it a hoot that Caine justified the dross in an interview by declaring the wage he earned bought him a house. Fair enough.

“Will history blame me or the bees?”

What a line.

Further reading/viewing:

https://www.denofgeek.com/movies/the-swarm/27505/10-remarkable-things-about-the-swarm

https://movieweb.com/the-swarm-movie-michael-caine-bees-deficating/

https://worstmoviesevermade.com/best-worst-movies-ever-swarm-1978/

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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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Waterworld (1995) – Mad Max on water.

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A notorious ‘flop’ that actually turned a small profit, Waterworld (1995) is at equal turns demented, awful, and glorious. A lot of the smug and snooty assassination of it clearly came from critics of the era who decided the omniscient Kevin Costner was getting too big for his boots. The movie is indeed patronising and way too overblown, character decisions perplexing, the dialogue stilted, and Costner appears to be sleepwalking through much of it and at full performance attempting a Clint Eastwood ‘Man with No Name’ number. And it can’t hold a candle to any of the Mad Max movies.

However, the stunts and action set pieces are nothing if not spectacular, and it’s one of the few ecologically themed movies out there, something with a vision that at least attempts to make a point. There are also so many peculiar moments amidst the explosions: Kevin Costner drinking his own piss, Kevin Costner’s gills and webbed feet, Dennis Hopper – who appears to have wandered off the set of Speed (1994) – away with the fairies, and the interlude with the loco Irish (or he is Scottish? Or a mixture of the two?) would-be rapist who has a talent for hoarding paper. It’s an experience.

Nothing’s free in Waterworld.

Further reading/viewing:

https://www.comingsoon.net/movies/features/1035947-18-things-we-learned-from-the-new-waterworld-blu-ray

https://lwlies.com/articles/waterworld-review-kevin-costner/

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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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Maverick is back – Top Gun 2.

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This came out of nowhere, YouTube losing the plot every so briefly. And it looks crack-a-lacking. Val Kilmer is so far incognito, but Wikipedia informs he does indeed feature. As nostalgia goes, this trailer is dynamite. High-concept 1986 all comes flooding back: Tom Cruise in his macho infancy, Kenny Loggins in his jammies, blokes wearing Aviator shades indoors, motorbikes, ‘inverted’ chat, and … blokes playing volleyball to … Kenny Loggins. Incredible scenes.

Further reading/viewing:

https://www.digitalspy.com/movies/a859315/top-gun-2-maverick-cast-trailer-release-date-plot-spoilers/

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/films/0/top-gun-maverick-plot-cast-release-date-tom-cruise-sequel/

 

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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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Visions of π (1998).

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Scorching Edinburgh.

Took this snap on a sweltering Friday afternoon in Edinburgh. For days I was trying to pinpoint why I was having … visions of a semi-obscure movie from the late ’90s. Then it finally came to me along with the following almost poetic narration:

‘9:13, Personal Note: When I was a little kid my mother told me not to stare into the sun. So once when I was six, I did. At first the brightness was overwhelming, but I had seen that before. I kept looking, forcing myself not to blink, and then the brightness began to dissolve. My pupils shrunk to pinholes and everything came into focus and for a moment I understood. The doctors didn’t know if my eyes would ever heal. I was terrified, alone in that darkness. Slowly daylight crept in through the bandages, and I could see, but something else had changed inside of me. That day I had my first headache.’

Darren Aronofsky’s π (1998), which is as stylish a movie one could ever make about mathematics. It’s quite something.

Further reading/viewing:

https://birthmoviesdeath.com/2018/07/10/pi-finding-order-in-chaos-20-years-later

https://www.polygon.com/2017/3/14/14923532/darren-aronofskys-pi-pi-day

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