Lists: some people hate them but I can’t get enough them, especially film lists.
I’ve been making film lists for years but it’s been ages since I compiled my favourite 100 films. I remember 8 ½ , 2001: A Space Odyssey, Wages of Fear, Badlands, Taxi Driver, Vertigo and Viranda made it into the top 10 circa 1997; I don’t know where they would be now and I don't know when I'll have the time to find out. Anyway, without further ado, let the listing - in no particular order - commence.
Best Films of 09
The Unloved (Samantha Morton)
This semi-autobiographical film about a child filtering from abusive father to the care system was my most heartbreaking experience of the year. It was first shown on CH4 but now has a well-deserved cinema release.
Let the Right One In (Tomas Alfredson)
The rarest of things: an original and successful horror film that's so much more!
Moon (Duncan Jones)
The best debut of the year that cements Sam Rockwell's reputation as one of the greatest yet underrated actors of his generation.
The Wrestler (Darren Aronofsky)
It's already a cliche to say this was the movie Mickey Rourke was born to be in, but it's so right. It's also great to see Aronofsky resuscitated after the disastrous The Fountain.
The Children (Tom Shankland)
A film on par with Rosemary's Baby and The Omen as a horror to prevent another baby boom.
Drag Me To Hell (Sam Rami)
Great to see Rami is back to doing what he does best: horror Evil Dead stylee!
Mesrine: Killer Instinct (Jean-Francois Richet)
Mesrine: Public Enemy No.1 (Jean-Francois Richet)
Vincent Cassel excels as Mesrine raising hell in France and Canada.
The Hurt Locker (Kathryn Bigelow)
Tension of the most unbearable kind has never been done so well so recently.
Slumdog Millionaire (Danny Boyle)
Story telling at its most exuberant.
Best Films I Saw In 09
Raise Ravens (Carlos Saura, 1976)
The Silent Partner (Daryl Duke, 1976)
4 Months 3 Weeks and 2 Days(Cristian Mugiu, 2007)
My Winnipeg (Guy Maddin, 2007)
You, the Living (Roy Andersson, 2007)
Edge of Heaven (Faith Akin, 2007)
The Mist (Frank Darabont, 2007)
I’ve Loved You So Long (Philippe Cludel, 2008)
Man on Wire (James Marsh, 2008)
Waltz With Bashir (Ari Folman, 2008)
Films Of 09 I Can’t Wait To See
Up
35 Shots of Rum
An Education
Fish Tank
A Serious Man
The Hide
Henri-Georges Cluzot’s Inferno
Inglurious Basterds
(funny how the adverts had to call it Inglurious but Stephen Fry's smooth talking Bar-Steward in the 90's Heineken Export adverts were green lit)
Johnny Mad Dog
Katalin Varga
Red Cliff
Rumba
Tony Manero
Timecrimes
The White Ribbon
Top 10 Films of the last decade (2000’s/Noughties)
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Julian Schnabel, 2007)
You, the Living (Roy Andersson, 2007)
Zodiac (David Fincher, 2007)
Once (John Carney, 2006)
Pan’s Labyrinth (Guillermo Del Toro, 2006)
Grizzly Man (Werner Herzog, 2005)
Head-On (Faith Akin, 2004)
Morven Caller (Lynne Ramsey, 2002)
City of God (Fernando Meirelles, 2002)
Jesus’ Son (Alison Maclean, 1999 – but released in 2000)
The Film Of 09 Which Most Felt Like A Shovel To The Head
(aka Bad Idea For A Date Movie)
Previous winners of The Film Which Most Felt Like A Shovel To The Head were Funny Games (Haneke!), The Piano Teacher (Hanekeeeeee!), Wolf Creek, Flex and, for different reasons, a short film aptly named Dick.
Although Martyrs wasn't far behind, Antichrist wins this year. Lars Von Trier's film left me both exhilarated and numbed as it skated so closely to portentousness and preposterousness (eg, the slow motion showering of acorns over Dafoe - funny/weird) yet managed moments of sublime beauty and sheer horror; it's endlessly provocative and intriguing. For me it didn't match the emotional intensity of Breaking the Waves or the uncanny madness of The Kingdom but it did stay with me for weeks, much to my dismay. And thanks to Antichrist (and Insides is guilty of this, too) scissors will never be the same again.
Biggest Disappointment Of 2009
Previous winners have been Eyes Wide Shut and the films of Dario Argento 98 onwards (that's 5 films and counting).
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button wins hands down. After David Fincher's great run of films (particularly Fight Club and Zodiac) TCCOBB was such a let down. Overlong, not half as thought provoking as it thought it was and dull. If it had any redeemable features it was the special effects, in fact the whole movie is an excuse for the special effects. It is worth watching Brad Pitt as an old wrinkly baby, after which it's time to switch it off and put your copy on ebay.
Please don't do that to me again, Fincher...
Tuesday, 12 January 2010
On Writing #6: Article in Public Domain
An article I wrote - which I mentioned in the On Writing #3 7/12/09 blog - is being published in February’s edition of Fibromyalgia Focus. Having been sent a pdf copy of the magazine for proofing I've had a sneak preview. My article lies near the centre of the magazine and covers two pages and includes one photograph. I'm excited and nervous.
All I can do now is hope that it resonates with the readers - and that the stabs at humour work.
I’m going to read through the magazine’s 24 pages and hope that my article fits snugly between the other articles.
It’s quite nerve racking anticipating what the general response will be, if any. Also, I'm not too keen on reading the article again: it’s been several weeks since I last read it and I’m sure I’ll see something in it that I will want to change, but then again it's been through a few edits so there shouldn't be anything too drastically in need of change.
Off the top of my head, there is one aspect of the article I would like to change: the photograph of my mother and I. The photograph is two years old. Ideally I would have liked to have issued a more up to date photo but sadly that wasn’t possible at the time due us being 300 miils apart.
All I can do now is hope that it resonates with the readers - and that the stabs at humour work.
I’m going to read through the magazine’s 24 pages and hope that my article fits snugly between the other articles.
It’s quite nerve racking anticipating what the general response will be, if any. Also, I'm not too keen on reading the article again: it’s been several weeks since I last read it and I’m sure I’ll see something in it that I will want to change, but then again it's been through a few edits so there shouldn't be anything too drastically in need of change.
Off the top of my head, there is one aspect of the article I would like to change: the photograph of my mother and I. The photograph is two years old. Ideally I would have liked to have issued a more up to date photo but sadly that wasn’t possible at the time due us being 300 miils apart.
Friday, 11 December 2009
Film: How to Enhance the Filmic Experience (without resorting to 3D)
Hypothetical Situation #1: I've won the Euro Lottery and built a specialist cinema.
Hypothetical Situation #2: You are in my specialist cinema.
So,
You're in my cinema and the film ends - the credits have arrived. But do not stand up; that's sacrilege. Instead, stay with the film. You're in my cinema and you must abide by my rules because I have a special surprise install for you, one that will enhance your overall viewing experience. So stay seated, calm and follow the instructions...
What happens next depends on what the film was. But one way or another, whether you are ushered through an alternative door or given a cryptic puzzle to solve, the filmic experience will transcend the silver screen and seep into your reality.
My reason for this is: I believe the filmic experience should not end as soon as the credits arrive; at this point the viewer is in a meditative, mildly hypnotic state. It takes a little while to adjust to reality after a film. How many times have you left the cinema and a felt little bit disorientated? Took a left turn instead of a right turn after leaving the cinema? Or been struck by the brightness of the outside world?
I want to exploit that state of mind by extending and externalising the filmic experience. For example, imagine the end of a screening of Don’t Look Now (1973), if it was compulsory to exit through another door that leads down a series of mock Venetian alleyways while a midget in a red raincoat darts hither and thither? Or imagine after a Saw movie the doors are shut, then Jigsaw comes up on the cinema screen and gives the audience a conundrum they have to solve before they can retrieve the key that will lead to their escape.
The closest I've heard anything coming close to this idea is theatre company Rumdrunk's It Felt Like a Kiss, where, the audience watches a 54 minute, hard hitting Adam Curtis documentary about the collapse of the American dream and terror spreading throughout the planet; after wich they are ushered through a series of eerie rooms and claustrophobic passageways.
If this can be done theatrically there is no reason why it can't be cinematically, too. With this is mind I'm off to Ladbrookes.
Oh, and Hypotheical Situation #3: Your mobile phone goes off in my specialist cinema.
Consequence: You will not see the phone in one piece again!
Hypothetical Situation #2: You are in my specialist cinema.
So,
You're in my cinema and the film ends - the credits have arrived. But do not stand up; that's sacrilege. Instead, stay with the film. You're in my cinema and you must abide by my rules because I have a special surprise install for you, one that will enhance your overall viewing experience. So stay seated, calm and follow the instructions...
What happens next depends on what the film was. But one way or another, whether you are ushered through an alternative door or given a cryptic puzzle to solve, the filmic experience will transcend the silver screen and seep into your reality.
My reason for this is: I believe the filmic experience should not end as soon as the credits arrive; at this point the viewer is in a meditative, mildly hypnotic state. It takes a little while to adjust to reality after a film. How many times have you left the cinema and a felt little bit disorientated? Took a left turn instead of a right turn after leaving the cinema? Or been struck by the brightness of the outside world?
I want to exploit that state of mind by extending and externalising the filmic experience. For example, imagine the end of a screening of Don’t Look Now (1973), if it was compulsory to exit through another door that leads down a series of mock Venetian alleyways while a midget in a red raincoat darts hither and thither? Or imagine after a Saw movie the doors are shut, then Jigsaw comes up on the cinema screen and gives the audience a conundrum they have to solve before they can retrieve the key that will lead to their escape.
The closest I've heard anything coming close to this idea is theatre company Rumdrunk's It Felt Like a Kiss, where, the audience watches a 54 minute, hard hitting Adam Curtis documentary about the collapse of the American dream and terror spreading throughout the planet; after wich they are ushered through a series of eerie rooms and claustrophobic passageways.
If this can be done theatrically there is no reason why it can't be cinematically, too. With this is mind I'm off to Ladbrookes.
Oh, and Hypotheical Situation #3: Your mobile phone goes off in my specialist cinema.
Consequence: You will not see the phone in one piece again!
Film: 3D vs The Percepto
Cinemas around the country are adapting to 3D. But I think championing 3D is misguided (with the exception of animation films).
In the early 50’s there was a wave of 3D films in Hollywood then it fizzled out as quickly as it began. The same happened with the next wave, does anybody remember flocking to see Jaws 3D, Amityville 3D, Friday the 13th III 3D. More recently there’s been My Bloody Valentine 3D and The Final Destination 3D, not really a cause celebre.
As an alternative, filmmakers should resurrect horror movie maestro William Castle’s method of eliciting an immediate and physical response from his audience via an invention called the Percepto.
The Percepto was an electric buzzer that was wired to seats. At the appropriate moment in a film specially tailored for the Percepto (The Tingler (1958)), some of the audience received mild electric shocks.
Imagine doing the same to a modern audience, either tailoring a film for those exact effects, or create similar effects around existing films.
3D will fizzle out again, it's in its nature. As for the Percepto, its return is long overdue.
[This is an edited version. The unedited version can be found at http://andydwrightsfilmthoughts.blogspot.com/]
In the early 50’s there was a wave of 3D films in Hollywood then it fizzled out as quickly as it began. The same happened with the next wave, does anybody remember flocking to see Jaws 3D, Amityville 3D, Friday the 13th III 3D. More recently there’s been My Bloody Valentine 3D and The Final Destination 3D, not really a cause celebre.
As an alternative, filmmakers should resurrect horror movie maestro William Castle’s method of eliciting an immediate and physical response from his audience via an invention called the Percepto.
The Percepto was an electric buzzer that was wired to seats. At the appropriate moment in a film specially tailored for the Percepto (The Tingler (1958)), some of the audience received mild electric shocks.
Imagine doing the same to a modern audience, either tailoring a film for those exact effects, or create similar effects around existing films.
3D will fizzle out again, it's in its nature. As for the Percepto, its return is long overdue.
[This is an edited version. The unedited version can be found at http://andydwrightsfilmthoughts.blogspot.com/]
Thursday, 10 December 2009
Film: Our Mind's Movie Library
Sometimes we read a special passage that makes an instant, indelible imprint on our mind; the content sinks in and we remember it forever.
One such piece of writing for me is an article in Sight and Sound (Nov, 1993) in which the novelist, filmmaker and one-time film editor at Time Out, Chris Petit, ‘raids the movie library inside his head’.
The article is a stream of consciousness trail from one random movie memory to another. Whether or not I am familiar with the films, filmmakers, actors or theories he references does not lessen the impact of the piece; this is an enthralling meditation on movies and memory that reveals how we all contain reels of film stored in the archive that inhabits our mind, and with as little as a flick of a switch, we can project these magic moments once again.
Here is an extract from Petit's article:
‘… Clint Eastwood’s chipped tooth. Genevieve Bujold’s eyes. The tree-house in Swiss Family Robinson. The eaves of the attic room where Robert Mitchum kills Shelley Winters in Night of the Hunter. Bad early Jack Nicholson performances. Bresson’s note about the ejaculatory force of the eye. Jeanne Moreau’s shoes in Diary of a Chambermaid. The last walk in The Wild Bunch…’
There are about 200 of these memories and observations in the article. From the extract above, I could picture the tree-house, the eaves, the last walk, the shoes and some Roger Corman era poor Nicholson performances. But I had not seen Eastwood’s chipped tooth or Bujold’s eyes and sure enough, as soon as I watched Tightrope I was looking for that chipped tooth; and when I watched Dead Ringers I was entranced by Bujold’s glaring eyes.
For some reason though, there are two passages elsewhere in the article that always stuck with me: ‘the way Lee Marvin holds a gun’ and ‘the fact that films don’t say The End any more.’ These observations, both esoteric and astute respectively, reveal not only a lot about the author's passionate observation of film but also how film is a collective experience from which we each derive a very personal response: For Petit it is the eaves in The Night of the Hunter; for me it's Shelley Winters sitting in her car under the water, her hair flowing like reeds, I remember most vividly.
It's the power the image has to reach into us and remain inside us that fascinates me. Sometimes we cherish it like a close friend, sometimes we resent its intrusion, and during the course of a film, who knows when those moments may occur, or what they maybe.
And the question still stands: When did films stop saying The End (or Fin) and why?
[This is an edited version. The uncut version can be found at http://andydwrightsfilmthoughts.blogspot.com/]
One such piece of writing for me is an article in Sight and Sound (Nov, 1993) in which the novelist, filmmaker and one-time film editor at Time Out, Chris Petit, ‘raids the movie library inside his head’.
The article is a stream of consciousness trail from one random movie memory to another. Whether or not I am familiar with the films, filmmakers, actors or theories he references does not lessen the impact of the piece; this is an enthralling meditation on movies and memory that reveals how we all contain reels of film stored in the archive that inhabits our mind, and with as little as a flick of a switch, we can project these magic moments once again.
Here is an extract from Petit's article:
‘… Clint Eastwood’s chipped tooth. Genevieve Bujold’s eyes. The tree-house in Swiss Family Robinson. The eaves of the attic room where Robert Mitchum kills Shelley Winters in Night of the Hunter. Bad early Jack Nicholson performances. Bresson’s note about the ejaculatory force of the eye. Jeanne Moreau’s shoes in Diary of a Chambermaid. The last walk in The Wild Bunch…’
There are about 200 of these memories and observations in the article. From the extract above, I could picture the tree-house, the eaves, the last walk, the shoes and some Roger Corman era poor Nicholson performances. But I had not seen Eastwood’s chipped tooth or Bujold’s eyes and sure enough, as soon as I watched Tightrope I was looking for that chipped tooth; and when I watched Dead Ringers I was entranced by Bujold’s glaring eyes.
For some reason though, there are two passages elsewhere in the article that always stuck with me: ‘the way Lee Marvin holds a gun’ and ‘the fact that films don’t say The End any more.’ These observations, both esoteric and astute respectively, reveal not only a lot about the author's passionate observation of film but also how film is a collective experience from which we each derive a very personal response: For Petit it is the eaves in The Night of the Hunter; for me it's Shelley Winters sitting in her car under the water, her hair flowing like reeds, I remember most vividly.
It's the power the image has to reach into us and remain inside us that fascinates me. Sometimes we cherish it like a close friend, sometimes we resent its intrusion, and during the course of a film, who knows when those moments may occur, or what they maybe.
And the question still stands: When did films stop saying The End (or Fin) and why?
[This is an edited version. The uncut version can be found at http://andydwrightsfilmthoughts.blogspot.com/]
Wednesday, 9 December 2009
On Writing #5: A Journalistic Alter Ego
I’m not a trained journalist but yesterday I had to step into a journalist’s shoes and interview somebody for a magazine article I am writing.
The article is about people with fibromyalgia who have had their benefits withheld having fallen foul of the government's latest scheme to catch benefit fraudsters.
To the supermarket cafe where I was to meet my first interviewee, I took an archaic Dictaphone, a notepad and a pen. I tried to project a proficient journalistic facade, harbouring the virtuosity of Woodward and Bernstein but that was dashed immediately: I approached the wrong lady; I was feeling lucky and thought I would take a punt, after all she both resembled the description I had been given and was giving me the proverbial eye - she confused me.
So I sensibly decided to just be myself and phoned my interviewee. She was only a few feet away (and several years younger than the woman I had just mistakenly accosted) waving at me - nice start.
Anyhow, the harmless blunder did well to break the ice and the interview went well, although the audio on the Dictaphone is hard to hear at times, partly due to a child nearby that occasionally screams and at one point, came right over and started fiddling with my interviewee’s handbag!
The article is in its early stages; however, I will be charting its progress in following blog posts.
The article is about people with fibromyalgia who have had their benefits withheld having fallen foul of the government's latest scheme to catch benefit fraudsters.
To the supermarket cafe where I was to meet my first interviewee, I took an archaic Dictaphone, a notepad and a pen. I tried to project a proficient journalistic facade, harbouring the virtuosity of Woodward and Bernstein but that was dashed immediately: I approached the wrong lady; I was feeling lucky and thought I would take a punt, after all she both resembled the description I had been given and was giving me the proverbial eye - she confused me.
So I sensibly decided to just be myself and phoned my interviewee. She was only a few feet away (and several years younger than the woman I had just mistakenly accosted) waving at me - nice start.
Anyhow, the harmless blunder did well to break the ice and the interview went well, although the audio on the Dictaphone is hard to hear at times, partly due to a child nearby that occasionally screams and at one point, came right over and started fiddling with my interviewee’s handbag!
The article is in its early stages; however, I will be charting its progress in following blog posts.
Film: Fantastic Fabrications vs Real Reality
A few days ago I watched William Friedkin's Sorcerer (1977). One thing struck me most: it was a refreshing reminder of what witnessing a 'real' movie stunt feels like; a spectre that is seldom seen in modern cinema. This led me to conclude that the impressiveness of what can be achieved by the ingenuity of computers will never match the effectiveness of the ‘real’ stunt.
One particular moment in Sorcerer convinced me of the superiority of the 'real' over CGI's fantastic fabrications. In a tense scene lasting 8 minutes, filmed in a jungle during a violent tropical storm, a batch of huge trucks carrying nitro-glycerine drive over a weak wood-and-rope bridge that hangs precariously a foot or two above a raging, swollen river. Everything is real: real trucks, real bridge, real river and a real tropical storm.
What’s also impressive is, instead of stunt drivers and studio based close ups, the late Roy Scheider - among some other established actors - is driving one of the trucks. It's unbelievable. You just don't see that nowadays - unless you count Jackie Chan.
Now compare the truck-over-the-bridge scene in Sorcerer to a scene in X Men Origins: Wolverine (2009). The climactic fight scene revolves around three characters fighting on top of a colossal chimney that's in the process of collapsing. It is an impressive spectacle, no doubt, but CGI is by its very nature fake, so it maybe great to look at but it fails to reach the level of what it would have been like if Liev Schreiber, Hugh Jackman and the other guy were really on top of a collapsing chimney.
The problem is we know all too well from behind-the-scenes extras on DVDs that they were probably safely tucked up in studio at room temp, against a green screen with props and runners serving their every need. This makes it harder to suspend belief and easier to acknowledge that the reality of X Men is a lame shame compared to Sorcerer's 'real' relentless ambition.
My point basically is, if a film really wants to impress and awe an audience, bigger special effects won’t work as effectively as a real stunt. Such stunts were in films much more often a few decades ago, think about the Smokey and the Bandit (1977-83) and Cannonball Run (1981-89) trilogies for example. And when such stunts are done these days there's a fuss, as if it's something new. A recent example of this would be the hype that surrounded Quentin Tarantino’s Death Proof (2007). It was refreshing (and breathtaking) to see a dangerous stunt where a lady was crawling on a bonnet of a car travelling above the speed limit once again on the screen. Bravo!
[This is an edited version. The unedited version can be found at http://andydwrightsfilmthoughts.blogspot.com/]
[The bridge sequence can be found at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4y854SPM3C4]
One particular moment in Sorcerer convinced me of the superiority of the 'real' over CGI's fantastic fabrications. In a tense scene lasting 8 minutes, filmed in a jungle during a violent tropical storm, a batch of huge trucks carrying nitro-glycerine drive over a weak wood-and-rope bridge that hangs precariously a foot or two above a raging, swollen river. Everything is real: real trucks, real bridge, real river and a real tropical storm.
What’s also impressive is, instead of stunt drivers and studio based close ups, the late Roy Scheider - among some other established actors - is driving one of the trucks. It's unbelievable. You just don't see that nowadays - unless you count Jackie Chan.
Now compare the truck-over-the-bridge scene in Sorcerer to a scene in X Men Origins: Wolverine (2009). The climactic fight scene revolves around three characters fighting on top of a colossal chimney that's in the process of collapsing. It is an impressive spectacle, no doubt, but CGI is by its very nature fake, so it maybe great to look at but it fails to reach the level of what it would have been like if Liev Schreiber, Hugh Jackman and the other guy were really on top of a collapsing chimney.
The problem is we know all too well from behind-the-scenes extras on DVDs that they were probably safely tucked up in studio at room temp, against a green screen with props and runners serving their every need. This makes it harder to suspend belief and easier to acknowledge that the reality of X Men is a lame shame compared to Sorcerer's 'real' relentless ambition.
My point basically is, if a film really wants to impress and awe an audience, bigger special effects won’t work as effectively as a real stunt. Such stunts were in films much more often a few decades ago, think about the Smokey and the Bandit (1977-83) and Cannonball Run (1981-89) trilogies for example. And when such stunts are done these days there's a fuss, as if it's something new. A recent example of this would be the hype that surrounded Quentin Tarantino’s Death Proof (2007). It was refreshing (and breathtaking) to see a dangerous stunt where a lady was crawling on a bonnet of a car travelling above the speed limit once again on the screen. Bravo!
[This is an edited version. The unedited version can be found at http://andydwrightsfilmthoughts.blogspot.com/]
[The bridge sequence can be found at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4y854SPM3C4]
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