Tag Archives: Movie

Knives Out (2019) is splendid.

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This is one terrifically entertaining whodunnit with an unexpected political undercurrent that comes to the surface in the third act. The time flew by, mainly due to Daniel Craig’s outrageous PI southern shtick. His voice is so uncannily like that of House of Cards’ Frank Underwood, I closed my eyes and pictured Kevin Spacey and all the resultant grisly news following the accusations about the bloke. It didn’t ruin the movie, only giving it a creepier edge.

Most films of this ilk hark back to Agatha Christie and are mere pale imitations of those superior yarns; Knives Out (2019) is something more than that, with its contemporary setting and subtly subversive reworking of the genre. You also believe these characters.

Even Chris Evans failed to vex me.

Further reading/viewing:

https://www.theguardian.com/film/2019/dec/01/knives-out-review-rian-johnson-superior-whodunnit-agatha-christie

https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/knives-out-2019

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Film Noir Gorgie.

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Perhaps one day it will happen but I very much doubt it – a lauded director decides to use Gorgie Road as a seedy backdrop for a modern noir. I imagine a jaded Bogartesque PI stopping off at Aldi for a few cheap beers after a draining day spent with myriads of local scum.

In fact, I’m going to have to make this motion picture, the drama shot on a battered HTC, Gorgie City Farm the site of the climactic shootout.

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Great scenes in otherwise forgettable/bad movies.

Most films are rather terrible, either your average generic copycat picture (sequel, superhero, franchise) or a total disaster zone. A very small elite of films are incredible, and then we have a hefty batch of escapist fare which feature a sublime scene deserving to live within a better movie.

Blade (1998).

Operation Blade (Bass in the Place), a song so synonymous with late ’90s techno it defines it. And that is the essence of the scene. Ropey CGI, Wesley Snipes struggling to make the choreography work, but the 100% chav tune papers over it all. It is a ghastly movie and the sequels likewise. Incredible music, though.

Deep Blue Sea (1999).

This film was dire, but Samuel L. Jackson’s stirring speech interrupted by extreme-close up bite-action was something else, totally unexpected, utilising the Hitchcock technique to perfection. If it happened later on in the movie it would have been wiser, as after this scene of madness there is no point in watching the remainder of it.

The Matrix Reloaded (2003).

An unabashed muddle, a shambolic mess as coherent as The Architect’s monologue. The highway chase, though. That’s what a short movie should be. And that’s what sequels should have been – short snippets.

Hannibal (2001).

I think the first hour of Hannibal (2001) is a mightily classy affair. You’ve got Florence and vistas and art chat and Hannibal running the show. If they kept the movie there it could have approached masterwork status. But they didn’t and it descends into calamity as soon as Italy is discarded. Sad.

 

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Ford v Ferrari (2019) is superior stuff.

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I know absolutely zilch about cars – I cannot drive one, have never possessed and never will have any interest in them, and cannot fathom sharing the same road with so many dafties. I see a lot of these ‘boy racers’ congregating in supermarket car parks, revving their engines and taking selfies. The mind boggles. It’s one of the many reasons why I scratch my head at these Fast & Furious films. Utter shite. I just don’t understand the appeal.

This movie transcended the ‘car fetish thing’, however. Mainly because the topic is merely a foundation for broader themes and character dynamics. Ferrari here are the urbane, suave totem of Italian sophistication; Ford, the bog-standard symbol of production line Americana. And in another example of what we now call ‘globalism’, the Yanks want a bit of the prestige and to shake off the crass tag.

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Christian Bale’s Ken Miles is an affront to the company men presided over by Tracy Letts’ Henry Ford II, the monolithic Ford Motor Company no institution in which to showcase one’s maverick inclinations, yet Miles finds a way through pure undiluted talent. It’s another absurd yet captivating Bale performance, the highlight of a movie in which nothing annoyed me even though it’s ostensibly about cars.

Well done.

Further reading/viewing:

https://time.com/5730536/ford-v-ferrari-true-story/

https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/ford-v-ferrari-movie-review-2019

 

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Uncut Gems (2019).

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This was gripping, an Adam Sandler movie that isn’t nails-down-a-blackboard godawful. He has been in some of the most appalling films, yet also the intermittent cracker – Punch Drunk Love (2002), for example. Here he is unrecognisable from his usual goofball act, literally sweating his pores through the travails of a gambling junkie juggling debt, addiction, and avoiding some rather dodgy small-time hoodlums/loan sharks. It’s an accurate portrait of the lives many folk live and quite the captivating one.

It has the Ben SEAL OF APPROVAL.

Further reading/viewing:

https://www.newyorker.com/culture/the-front-row/the-mesmerizing-chaos-of-uncut-gems

https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/uncut-gems-movie-review-2019 

https://www.washingtonpost.com/gdpr-consent/?destination=%2fgoingoutguide%2fmovies%2fin-uncut-gems-adam-sandler-is-supremely-annoying-thats-why-hes-so-great%2f2019%2f12%2f14%2f9d0ee634-1d08-11ea-8d58-5ac3600967a1_story.html%3f

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I thought I was Deckard once.

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A thoroughly miserable mise-en-scène in Gorgie yesterday, though I don’t mind the deluge as the chavs stay indoors (mostly). Armed with a stolen umbrella, I for a very brief epoch possessed Blade Runner (1982) visions – Vangelis, Film Noir, a charismatic Dutch antagonist, 2019 premonitions vs. present day shenanigans.

Then I arrived at my conclusion: 2019 didn’t witness flying cars and robots you can have ‘life moments’ with; it was some berserk ginger midget in a 1997 Kappa tracksuit bolting up Gorgie Road with a stolen toaster, three tubby cops in tow.

That’s life.

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In the Loop (2009) – election season special.

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Election night is a special night, and the UK has had too many to even summarise in the past half decade. It’s a time when all the godawful monotone robots we have for public servants come out of the woodwork, every single one of them a walking, talking bag of empty catchphrases. Behind the scenes, one suspects their minders are the real brains behind the operation, the expletive-laden puppet masters who are laughing at us.

Malcolm Tucker is how I picture them – cynical, verbally violent, Scottish. I have heard very complimentary things about The Thick of It (2005-2012) but I am not going to bother as the movie is a belter and I don’t wish to diverge from it. There are lines of dialogue here so glorious that I can’t even fathom how they were written.

Best line: ‘Within your ‘purview’? Where do you think you are, some fucking regency costume drama? This is a government department, not some fucking Jane fucking Austen novel! Allow me to pop a jaunty little bonnet on your purview and ram it up your shitter with a lubricated horse cock.’

I am gasping to say that to almost every clown I have to work with. One day the moment will present itself. I verily cannot wait.

Further viewing:

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The Right Stuff (1983) – the wrong stuff.

 

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This movie was fucking awful. I’d heard all about it for years but put it on the shelf for a rainy day. It rained and I took the plunge.

Why is it that most ‘space movies’ are dull as dishwater? The subject remains an endless fascination but the movies are mostly pathetic. The filmmakers’ think that ‘getting it all right’ on the physics and equipment equals a masterpiece. They continue to disregard a need for drama, a human conflict that sucks you in and makes you invested in proceedings.

This film is sadly another snore-fest. No one gives a fuck about the scientific dimensions of the story, only the conflict and the feels. We have here a rather ultra-talented array of actors – Scott Glenn, Sam Shepard, Ed Harris, Fred Ward, Dennis Quaid – all looking … bored.

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It’s so uninspired and prosaic, real lazy filmmaking. Imagine Michael Mann made this; you’d have a masterwork on your hands.

Fucking hated this film. Shite.

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The Wicker Man (1973) is still shocking.

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The most disturbing thing about this bonkers movie is that it’s all a setup, almost every scene a parade to the unsuspecting cop getting burned to ashes. It’s a harrowing last 20 minutes because on first viewing you gradually realise what’s going on yet our protagonist doesn’t. Edward Woodward, though – what an acting job this is. He is captivating. I give it 5/5, … and I hate everything.

One scene makes no sense: Britt Ekland dancing about in the nip (body double, I hear) to a tune I recall remixed by Sneaker Pimps for the underrated Hostel (2005), The Equalizer stood there like a wee bairn in his jammies when she’s banging the walls for a bit of carnal action. There is no reason for that scene to be there but it’s weirdly memorable.

I’m not dipping into the Nicolas Cage remake because the awfulness of the movie is beyond a keyboard description and the snippet of scenes here speak for it all:

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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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