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Hancockamamie

July 6th 2008 11:16
Hancock, the latest number for Will Smith to shimmy his way down to the multiplex in, sees him take on the role of Hancock, an alcoholic, tactless super-hero with some serious PR problems. Problems that one Jason Bateman intends to solve after having been saved from certain death by our eponymous hero.
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For the first 45 minutes of the film I was tentatively enjoying the fare, that is before I realised the true intentions of the film maker and his desire to inject the film with some heavy metaphor and a sub-text that simply doesn’t ring true.
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American cinema is littered with comic-book adaptations films of the adventures of the ‘super-hero’. Figures, who are undoubtedly quintessentially American, submerged in pro-American symbolism and who represent true ‘American values’. With his great power he has the great responsibility of attempting to solve the worlds ills. Hancock is no exception to this, he is also drenched in symbolism, he wears a beanie with an eagle sewn in, and his first suit given in his PR sharpened role as the local super-hero has an eagle emblazoned on the back. As a result I think it’s fair to say where we read Hancock we can read America. Hancock is un-loved and he is heavily criticised for his sincere but rather clumsy efforts. This is where the filmmaker lost me, mainly due to his personal politics. He clearly recognises the demise of the American ideal in the eyes of the world. However, he seems to imply that U.S. foreign policy is well intended but clumsy and that an adjustment in leadership and some good PR could return it to the role of Hero in the world, coming to the aid of people who need it most. I would argue this point pretty fiercely, American foreign policy is not clumsy and well intended; it is criminal and determined by self-interest.



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Plane Food

May 28th 2008 22:27
Well… it’s been quite some time since the last time, but as to what amount of time that is, only time will tell. In fact I don’t know and shan’t know, but this is immaterial. I’ve been on the road for a few weeks, it scooping me up in to its talons and away from a cinema screen, dropping me into the nest of an airplane seat in front of a tiny 3-inch screen on which to feed. (Road = bird? airplane seat = nest? 3-inch screen = a worm?).

Apart from sitting frozen in a variety of sharp angles I did in fact watch some films, most of which have fallen by the wayside (jetlag). One that stuck was ‘The Savages’ starring Philip Seymour Hoffman (Camilla Parker Bowles) and a woman whose name is… Laura Linney. I enjoyed the film quite a bit and I suppose it dealt with the difficult subject of Alzheimer’s and the responsibility of ailing parents etc. in a gentle and funny way. However, as with all ‘plane movies’ it feels almost like I never watched it all, maybe it’s a side effect of the food or perhaps it's a deep vein thrombosis in my head but usually I remember very little of any film I happen to see on the plane. One notable exception from this trip was waking from a nightmare to be confronted by an even worse ill, as my eyes slowly focused on the image of Tom Hanks AND Julia Roberts… in the same film! What compounded matters was my proximity to the screen which only served to distort Julia Robert’s already disfigured features, it didn’t do anything for Tom Hanks’ acting either. A short time later, the cold sweat having dried I discovered that the name of the film was ‘Charlie Wilson’s War’, ‘ The horror!’

Another of these 'plane films' that I saw on my trip was ‘Dan in Real Life’, unfortunately I can’t seem to forget that one either. Pretty shit, all ends up. Insipid, predictable, full of dreadful writing, I’m not sure what Steve Carell was doing, but I’m sure he can do it better. The film had all the edge of a bouncy castle (Manning, B. 1978)

Ok,
I go.

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Mon Dieu!

April 11th 2008 23:17
B
o
n.

I just arrived home with cries of “Cinema! Cinema!” ringing in my ears (“Man Bites Dog” anyone?) and the vision of the world from the perspective of a completely paralysed man (apart from his left eye), in my eye(s). In other words I just watched “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Le Scaphandre et le Papillon), the true story of Jean-Dominique Bouby, who at the age of just 43 was struck by a huge stroke which left him unable to move his entire body except for his left eye.

Now, if the film had of been bad then at this point I was going to make a series of poor jokes about how the film-makers had truly allowed me to experience the hopelessness and the frustration experienced by the main character, that perhaps I too had endured a little of the “locked-in syndrome” that he describes. But in fact it wasn’t bad, it was quite good (adjectives!). The story itself of course pretty much demands to be told and lends itself to this kind of adaptation, however this shouldn’t take away from the filmmakers’ achievements. In particular I really enjoyed the transition from the early part of the film where shots were confined almost solely to the eye (!) view of Jean-Dominique to the more expansive palette of the latter part of the film, as his attitude continued to improve and his imagination flourish.

I tell you what though, blinking this out whilst my girlfriend takes the dictation is exhausting, no wonder he never got out of bed. I’ll leave you to watch it for yourselves.

B
y
e.

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Hot Chocolate

March 29th 2008 17:57
Well, once the ubiquitous enthusiasm that surrounds any of my new projects had died down, I took some time out to have a think about what I would like to say here and how I would like to start. With the ensuing torrent of fresh and vital ideas threatening to swamp me, I found myself limping back over to the computer to continue my introductory words: -
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My opening gambit closed with some rather threatening overtones, which seemed to stem from a rather unfortunate experience with the film “Vantage Point”. It seems churlish to single out Oscar winning actor Forest Whittaker for his performance in what was an exceedingly average(?) film. However I was particularly bowled over by his range of emotion (which was chiefly focused on confusion), his protruding ears and his chase scene, where only the adjective “lumbering” seems appropriate. However, all of this got me to thinking, how can such a seemingly able actor be capable of delivering such pap. Another such example of woeful underachievement is Sean Penn’s role in The Interpreter, which also acts as a vehicle for the “actress” Nicole Kidman. My favourite line of the movie comes during an intimate phone call between the increasingly close lead characters, when played out on screen the effect is devastating


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Four score and seven years ago...

March 16th 2008 10:11
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth the wonderful medium of film, films of the non-silent variety that is. It was soon after this that the internet was created and new a land was born, a digital and metaphorical land, yes, but "land" it is, and god-damned it if I ain’t gon’ get my share to raise up some crops and maybe talk about some of those motion pictures that they are playing down there at the movie house.
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Film, perhaps more than most artistic enterprises seems prone to atavistic tendencies with a near constant recycling of old ideas that should have been tossed out long ago. Remakes, for example, such a strange concept in so many ways and yet we are treated to such events on an increasingly regular basis and invited to share our money with those “in the know” (the fact that they didn’t know that most people could have done without a remake of “Get Carter” starring Sylvester Stallone seemed of little significance). There you go though, our opinion doesn’t really count for much but we can still give voice to it, can’t we? Can’t we? For the little it is worth, I intend to give anyone who can sit through it, mine


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