Who are you wearing?

Just watched the Red Carpet Live from the Oscars, channel hoping between Sky Living (lots of people who aren't even there, talking about the nominations - boring) and E! News, which wins hands-down for interview face-time, which is surely what we're watching for!

Seeing as you can ONLY watch the actual ceremony on the Sky movie channels (and NOwhere online unless you're in the US - a conspiracy much?!), I'll have to wait for any actual news worth commenting on.

Red carpet-wise though, I can say that I LOVE Helena Bonham Carter, Cate Blanchett and Natalie Portman. Most annoying - Celine Dion and Steven Spielberg's incredibly-teenage teenage daughter!

I might have to bail and go to bed. Reading the live blog on the Empire website isn't quite going to cut it on keeping me awake. Plus Monday is meetings day at work, have to present some semblance of being awake for that!

My New Favourite Horse

This is my new favourite horse. His name is Maximus. So, clearly we went to see Disney's new Tangled this week. Aside from the fact that I still HATE 3D (waste. of. time.), I loved this film! I'm delighted to say that the boyfriend loved it too, it was even his idea to see it, which was weird. Our mutual joy in this film was mainly based on our mutual love of this horse and the chameleon as well (his pic is at the bottom, so he doesn't feel left out).

As you can tell from the marketing, this film is essentially a re-telling of the tale of Rapunzel, still in the classic medieval-ish setting, but something of a 'modern take' if only in the dialogue and sheer amount of sarcasm and 'spunk' (oh grow up) exhibited by the characters. The plot itself is nothing profound, in fact it's profoundly simple, and therein lies its pleasure. Not being distracted by complex plotting and clever references (sorry Pixar), means one is really free to enjoy the sheer beauty of the animation here, and it's gorgeous. Not for years have I had an experience this close to the childhood joy of old-school Disney classics. We were even treated to that Disney-est of pleasures, the telling of the story through catchy songs. Oh, cheesy as hell, don't get me wrong, but brilliant all the same. A scene where a multitude of lit paper lanterns take to the sky around the fairytale castle, and reflected in the surrounding lake was so divine to watch it literally had me in tears. Which was tricky whilst wearing 3d glasses over my normal glasses.

Better than all of that visual sumptuousness was the comedy in this film. It was really REALLY funny. I mean proper laugh out loud funny, I think I had a stitch at one point. And 90% of that humor was down to good ole Maximus the Horse, and the Chameleon guy (if he had a name, I don't remember it)... they were Legends of the first order. The sheer amount of personality the animators have put into these animal characters with no dialogue is astounding. I can't say much about it without ruining it for you, but if you don't laugh at these guys until you're nearly sick, then someone stole your funny-bone. Here's a taster actually, that's probably best.

So in short, this gets a big thumbs up from me. If you're too much of a (boring) grown-up to take pleasure in traditional Disney fare, then give this one a miss. But if you're up for a dose of child-like joy, get on down to the cinema.
Images from disney.co.uk - thanks.

All work...

Unfortunately, this image does not mean I've been watching The Shining (Stanley Kubrick, 1980). It's a comment on how interesting my week as been, i.e. not very. I've not watched a single film, hardly read anything, though we did cave on the money-saving and go out for a lovely dinner last night, so that's good. Hoping to rectify the lack of film-viewing asap. And OMG I just remembered I got The Shining for Christmas. Score! That's first on the list.

Image from overthinkingit.com (with thanks)

You Can Leave Your Mask On

And so My Own Private Leonardo Di Caprio season continues, this time with The Man in the Iron Mask (Randall Wallace, 1998). I think all I can say is hmmm...

For the first half I must confess I was mainly bored. There seemed to be a lot of talent on display here (Jeremy Irons, John Malkovich, Gabriel Byrne, erm, Gerard Depardieu), but not a lot of quality acting. Quite a lot of scraggly hair, hammy scripting and sets so wobbly they make 80s Dr Who look like HBO, but that's about it. Televisual production values aside, it did get better as it went on, my interest level was raised once the identity of the masked man is revealed. Plenty of intrigue and subterfuge made for much better viewing.

I will be awarding Di Caprio 2nd prize in my filmic Twin awards (the criteria being one actor playing two twin siblings simultaneously on screen, nothing to do with DeVito). He did a wonderful job of making the two of them completely disparate and identifiable, even in the same clothes, by the hard/soft-ness of his gaze alone - so nice work there. The winner of this illustrious honour is young Freddie Highmore in the excellent Spiderwick Chronicles (Mark Waters, 2008).

I'm really struggling to find anything else to say about this film, other than it's just not my cup of tea. No idea how this managed to pass me by, but I was not aware ante-view that this was a Musketeers-y film (yeah, I know, now I feel really thick), and had a I known that, I might have expected slightly less, and enjoyed it slightly more. I was also upset by how no effort whatsoever was made towards a sniff of accent continuity. I'm not saying that films where Hollywood actors bleat away in Eurotrash accents throughout are necessarily a good thing; but the complete non-approach here was significantly worse. Within only the opening scenes, your ears are assaulted by such a variety of regional accents, the effect is baffling! You have Depardieu with his fuzzy French-uncle drawl, the more dulcet tones of Irons, who to me will always sound like Scar from the Lion King, the unmistakably American (and anachronistically modern) voice of Di Caprio as the young King, then some bit-part plummy English from Hugh Laurie - it made my brain hurt.

So, all in all, a bit of a letdown. Unless you have a burning desire to see Gerard Depardieu's saggy bum for 5 or 6 seconds. In which case, knock yourself out.

Image (you can see what I mean about the hair) from epixhd.com - with thanks.

My Favourite Haunt

Not even slightly film related this one, gotta mix it up every now and again, or something.

Went to my favourite pub (The Easton) last night, had a delicious roast dinner and a lovely evening. So just wanted to spread the word about this one. If you're ever in the Clerkenwell / Farringdon area, check it out.

http://www.theeastonpub.co.uk/Easton/Welcome.html

Friendly staff, great atmosphere, good range of drinks and wonderful wonderful food.

Dancer in the Dark

Black Swan (Darren Aronofsky, 2011)

It goes without saying that I had to see this film on the opening night. Well, it being me, nothing goes "without saying", it's just a turn of phrase alright? 3 key reasons for my keen anticipation: Aronofsky is one of my favourite directors; I'm a little bit in love with Natalie Portman (especially since Garden State (Zach Braff, 2004)); and beautiful people descending into madness under pressure, well it's one of my very favourite sub-genres! So, all in all, set to be a winner for me. And my-oh-my, I was not disappointed.

Black Swan is dazzling, mesmirising and sublime, I haven't felt so captivated by a film in a long time. Don't get me wrong, it's not an entirely comfortable viewing experience, it's up-close, visceral, with genuine elements of body horror at (sometimes) unexpected moments. Definitely not one for the squeamish. Aronofsky has always favoured the tight frame, one of his notable auteur-isms (if you will). In every film since Pi (1998), his camera pushes uncomfortably into the spaces of his subjects, its gaze unswerving from every flitter of emotion that traverses their faces. And here, in Black Swan, the camera is as unflinching from physical pain and horror as well, both the natural (split nails, cracking joints), to the supernatural (fusing skin, sprouting feathers). During the ballet sequences the camerawork is dizzying, spinning around the dancers, mirroring their graceful moves.

It's not just the visuals the deserve praise of course, Aronofsky's use of sound is exquisite, as it always is (Requiem for a Dream (2000) would be my top tip for best sound-engineered film of all time - what a geek). And here in Black Swan, his sound is just as masterful... the thrumming flutter of powerful wings, the stiff rustles of dresses and feathers. Alongside the sound, Aronofsky uses every trick in the book to blur the line between reality and fantasy. We, the audience, are as clueless as Nina herself when it comes to what is real here and what is not. I left the auditorium feeling shaky and confused (I mean that as praise of course!).

Portman here is a revelation, there has been much talk of her transformation as an actress following that of Nina's; from innocence to a darker side of herself. Of course, I've not seen every film she's ever made, so can't say she's never gone to such places before, but it certainly feels that way. Her performance was impeccably disturbing, overwhelmingly good. The fact that she also performed most of the dancing herself, well, that's just bloody amazing. The rest of the cast is also excellent... All the women balletic, swanlike and graceful, but also somehow spiteful; dangerous with dewy-eyed malevolence. Vincent Cassel is also great (if a little one-note) as the sleazy, but brilliant director (dictator) of the ballet, the catalyst for Nina's descent into insanity.

I'm at risk of waxing lyrical about this film for the rest of the day, so will draw to a close here. In summation, I will say that if you are one of the anti-Aronofsky (apparently they do exist), this may not change your mind, and if you're looking for a heartwarming bit of escapism, for God's sake, go and see The King's Speech instead. For all other eventualities, please please please go and see this film, you will not be disappointed. Bit jittery, maybe, but not disappointed.


Image from beyondhollywood.com - thanks.

The Truman Show

No, not that one. This one...

Capote (Bennett Miller, 2005)

This film opens beautifully. A series of slow, lingering establishing shots, situating us in the bleak Kansas countryside, almost like the outback it's so sparse. The cinematography rarely paces up throughout the film, holding back, in long shot after long shot, allowing the action to play out within the frame in an almost theatrical way. Technically, I thought it was great. Still, enough camera chat...

The bare bones of this story are historical; American author Truman Capote is researching and writing his legendary novel, In Cold Blood, based on a real-life 1959 murder case in the afore-mentioned Kansas. An entire family murdered in a quiet town, seemingly for no reason. Capote decides to write a fictionalised account of the aftermath of this tragic event, and in doing so develops a close, and complex relationship with one of the killers, Perry Smith. The film meanders through the entire period, from the tragic event itself, through various interviews, the writing of the book, as well as quite a lot of not-writing of the book, to the eventual completion of the novel and the execution of the offenders. This epic span represents a number of years and one sees how wholly the events and the writing take over Capote’s life.

The film raises challenging questions about the processes of justice and the place of authorship, and the fuzzy grey line where fact meets fiction. Another point of interest is the film’s ambiguous attitude to the killers and to them being ‘used’ by Mr. Capote. One is left in a fair old moral quandary, after all Capote treated Smith appallingly - he (Capote) fluctuates between seemingly genuine concern and interest for the young man in his incarceration, (even finding the pair a lawyer, who lands them an appeal), and latterly closing himself off entirely, losing interest once he has what he needs. And yet, in the course of the story, it becomes clear that they did indeed commit this cold-blooded and heinous crime, and so the buggers deserve everything they get, right?! Tricky tricky. I hope I never get called up for jury service.

As the film progresses, it becomes clear that Capote’s contribution to the cause of the convicts’ freedom was only ever to buy himself time, and that his motivations were only ever selfish. Indeed, Capote’s persistent, blatant and fairly despicable self-absorption is my most lingering memory of this film… his false friendship with Smith, his constant "woe is me"-ing, his complete lack of support for his exasperated friends (most notably the excellent Catherine Keener as Harper Lee, author of To Kill a Mocking Bird). In fact, if the film’s portrayal of him is even slightly accurate, and I’d been there at the time, I'd have probably punched him in the face. Regular party scenes intercut the more serious drama, and in each of these scenes we find Capote… leant back, louche and leonine in a crowd of sycophantic admirers; he holds court, spouting one witty anecdote after another and chuckling in his ridiculous camp-Cartman voice - what a d*ckhead. Oh, I'm not denying he was a talented and fascinating chap, changing the face of American literature etc., but seriously, shut up mate.

Aside from my personal gripes with our eponymous hero, this film was very well made. Performances uniformly excellent, tone tense and slow to unwind, I still found myself captivated throughout – more so than I thought in fact, when our DVD player packed up around chapter 20, we thought nothing of 4 of us (and a large cat) all crowding round a laptop for the remaining hour, so keen were we to reach the conclusion!

Image from filmadelphia.org - with thanks.