Article: The Perception of Class

 Did you hear what that film critic said about the other? Well, it all started with a cryptic tweet from one Mark Kermode stating:

"That moment when you fall out of love with a film mag about which you once cared passionately. Oh well …"

In the latest issue of Sight and Sound (Oct 2018), Danny Leigh’s article on film criticism and class seemingly alluded to the idea that fellow film writer Kermode's private school education holds a certain aspect of gatekeeping:

The whole thing felt a little odd to me. A misguided pot-shot to some, a benign reference to others. In all honesty, I joked with a film friend that both were joyfully sharing a brandy and a cigar as they did enough to raise Film Twitter's love for gossip and perhaps got another couple of Sight and Sound copies out the door. Although Kermode feelings to the comments and Leigh's self-removal from Twitter state otherwise. 

Strangely, this reminds me of when Gawker broke the news of Hulk Hogan’s sex tape and rampant racism in which the Hulkster mentioned not only his wishes of his daughter to not date certain types of Black men, but also liberal use of the N-word. I remember when this news broke, the social media audience was more bothered at Hogan's use of a racial slur as opposed to his far more disturbing view on interracial relationships. I'm also reminded of the 2014 Sony hack in which then Sony Entertainment Chief Amy Pascal joking remarked on Obama's film tastes being somewhat stereotypical. While the information leaked was founded on dubious grounds, it displayed the problematic relationship between ideas of race and film production. This was not conversed about in The Discourse, because this was criminal gossip which shouldn't be looked into in any way or form. Although now we don't mind discussing pee tapes. 

The mucky discussions that should really be discussed are dismissed for something more palatable. The same thing will happen here. The more important aspects of Leigh's commentary will be overshadowed via a smaller, less important area of discussion. There are no winners here. The comments made will now be viewed by some as a grudge on a film writer who is currently the most prominent national voice on cinema. While another film writer will disappear from social media at a time we actually need folk to discuss cinema in a boarder sense. Something Leigh was happy to do. A shame. In the brief conversations I've had in the past with both writers, the most important element that came across from both of them was their passion for cinema. 

A couple of sentences between two prominent white film writers is simply not as important as the talk of class. We’re still in a labouring world in which London based critics and film writers chirp over "essential" screenings that they can see due being able to afford an array of rep cinemas that they can just fall into. Working class actors are disappearing. Films which highlight the varied range of cultural landscapes flitter on by due to poor distribution and yet we see have more to say about twitter beef. This ain’t Sarris vs Kael. This isn’t even White vs Baumbach and yet we are invested. The issue that lingers is that there IS a class concern that remains in film criticism like a repugnant stench. However, the concern is being masked by folk grinning and nodding in acknowledgment to MUBI’s smug advertising campaign or doubling down on their recent tweets about the state of Cinema culture, so much of which safely ignore any real insights on socio-political areas. The online film community can often give off an ivory tower demeanour about itself. All it takes is a glance at the right message boards or tweet threads to see it. There is a problem with how class, as well as race and gender,  is viewed in criticism. It goes far beyond the two writers mentioned in this piece. The fact that we will again ignore it is pretty classless.

Review: The Hateful Eight

Year: 2015 (2016 UK Theatrical Release)
Director: Quentin Tarnatino
Screenplay: Quentin Tarnatino
Starring: Samuel L. Jackson, Kurt Russell, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Walton Goggins, Demián Bichir, Tim Roth, Michael Madsen, Bruce Dern

Synopsis is here

By the end of The Hateful Eight, I found myself at a loss. As a huge admirer of the filmmakers' work, I found the eighth film from the idiosyncratic director to be slightly uninspiring. Not a bad film by any means. The dialogue holds that sing song prose we often expect. The humour has more than a touch of the gallows to it. The references, as always, have the type of richness we’d come to expect from the energetic, egotistical pastiche picture maker.

As a fan, it’s hard not to hold a fondness for the films brutal, bloody and bold filmmaking. Clocking in at 167 minutes (general release version), it’s still great to see Tarnatino as the diehard hip-hop auteur that he has always been. The novelistic narrative, the political incorrectness, the characters who hold a sense of depth despite their cartoonish nature. At times it feels like a medley of greatest hits.

Despite this, The Hateful Eight seems diluted. A reminder that many enjoyed the filmmaker when his were more streamlined. It’s easy to see elements of Reservoir Dogs (1992) crop up throughout The Hateful Eight. What I realised is just how much the limitations pushed the filmmaker in his early days. Characters are nailed down quickly while payoffs are executed sharply. The Hateful Eight, much like Tarantino’s Death Proof (2007), seems to put out a lot of posturing, but while impressing from a technical standpoint, never seem to deliver that pleasurable gut punch we know that the director can easily provide.

Something that has dropped into the pit of peoples stomach, however, is Quentin's love for the word nigger, which like Django Unchained (2012), is used to convey the post-civil war era setting as well as the racial tension, which are stirred within the film itself. Of course, liberal commenters were quick to react towards Tarnatino consistent use of the word and with good cause. To a point. Tarnatino’s racial politics can often feel troublesome and problematic. The film could probably easily tone down its uses of such a slur. Yet in watching a film called The Hateful Eight, made by a man whose viewing pleasures are often occupied by the sleaze of exploitation and Grindhouse, while I don’t condone it. I can at gain a sense of understanding. In comparison, Rick Famuyiwa’s Dope (2015) is equally infatuated with the word, yet has little else to back up its overuse. Interestingly, both films, gender politics also come into play. The Hateful Eight features deplorable violence towards women sometimes cartoonish, often troubling. Yet still works towards making its lone lead female (a fantastic Jennifer Jason Leigh) a compelling feature of the movie. Unlike Dope’s various sketchily drawn females, Leigh’s Daisy Domergue is an actual character with motivations worthy of watching. One may not agree with what she does, at least she is not window dressing.

Despite this there are some understandably awkward stereotypes which raise their head during a pivotal point of the movie. Combined with a strange, beguiling, sexually aggressive monologue by Samuel L Jackson. These sequences distressing to some due to their displacement of black women and the connotations of black sexuality respectively. While Tarantino tries to remain canny by once again making his black and female characters the smartest players in the room, he’s doing so in a film that could really do with some decent chopping. Critics have been trying to unpack the deeper themes of the film as best they can. I don’t care too much about that. Mostly because the film isn’t as strong from a fundamental standpoint. The elements are there, but everything feels far too surface level. Yes, even for a Tarantino movie.

Despite a gruff Kurt Russell, the film never reaches the fever pitch of tension found in The Thing (1982). The film's visuals are attractive, but never deliver the same creeping feeling of dread that occurs in previous Tarnatino features (Inglourious Basterds for instance). The film’s performances are all enjoyable, but the outcome of everyone is not. It’s a strange feeling to have in a Tarantino film but, one I felt all the same.

Is this a misfire? Not really. A few of the reasons on why I watch Tarnatino raise their head. No doubt, I’ll see movies this year with a dazzling amount of inaptitude. Something The Hateful Eight certainly doesn’t have. The Hateful Eight, however, seems to suggest that Quentin Tarantino may do well to step out of his own head for a while and take a breather. If what he says is true, then he only has two films left. He should go out with a bang.

Review: Gone Girl

Year: 2014
Director: David Fincher
Screenplay: Gillian Flynn
Starring: Ben Affleck, Rosamund Pike, Neil Patrick Harris, Tyler Perry, Carrie Coon, Kim Dickens

Synopsis is here

Normally when I'm sitting in my hometown's mall cinema, I'm gritting my teeth at the level of inane chatter that stems from people with their "unlimited cards". For me there's nothing more frustrating at a cinema than an audience who spend more time talking to each than the watching the movie. My screening of Gone Girl on its theatrical opening was different. Yes, there were audible mutterings, but for once this was because everyone watching was absorbed with what was on the screen. Not only was I enthralled by David Fincher's spiralling thriller, but liberated at just how tuned in everyone was for the movie and its many twists. This wasn't the annoying, idle chit chat that grates, irritatingly on the ears. No, this was the rumblings of the post credit debate which had started before the film had finished. The audience were all part of the page turner. There's not many recent films that can do that.

There's a lot of Fincher's 10^th feature to spoil, so I'll do my best to tread lightly on the narrative (however, note my warning of Spoilers) Films like this is one of the reasons I usually link the synopsis as opposed to writing it into the review. Any of the film's plot points could be a spoiler filled booby trap. So let's just say that Nick Dunne's (Affleck) wife, Amy (Pike) is missing, but all is not what it seems when it comes to her disappearance.

This is Fincher is pure pulp mode. Collaborating with cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth for the fourth time, Gone Girl is a film inflected with dark, noir-like imagery to match the films expose of a modern marriage which is decaying from the inside. The film's narrative is outrageous in the same way as OTT 90's thrillers such as Basic Instinct, but the films detached central couple, tap into that similar social crawl space of 'Jack' and Tyler Durden of Fincher's own Fight Club (1999), there's something eerily familiar about The Dunne's alienation. A creepy invasive feeling that connects with us in a way that we wish it didn't. The same way we wanted Tyler do blow everything sky high.

As the characters peel back each of their layers, trust suddenly becomes fluid. Each scene makes you question the last. Kirk Baxter's exquisitely timed editing gives lasts a split second less than you would have hoped. Time that would give away an awkward glance or to probe a clue for longer. Fincher's film primes us for this with its slightly too quick opening credits. We don't gain a clear image. We don't see everything, even when shown.

Working together with the novel's writer, Gillian Flynn, Fincher merrily toys with aspects of the book's structure to allow twists to occur parallel with other events. The issues of family become streamlined (ultimately lessening motives of certain characters), but the implications and scrutiny of the media is played up, made Meta and made even more tangible. Gone Girl beautifully allows Affleck to comment on his own relationship with the media as well as subconsciously taking pot shots at Robin Thicke, just because. The bolstering of the media slant is notable because it allows Fincher and the film's characters to play in a world in which image is indeed everything.

This is certainly true when we consider the so called failings of the film's gender politics. Gone Girl has been considered misogynist in certain circles and indeed for a film that explores an ugly marriage, it does seem to lean on the side of men. Yet as we move into a world in which ideas of femininity are becoming more intense, it does frustrate that so many of the think pieces that appeared after the film's release seemed to jump on the idea that the film clearly promotes rape culture as opposed to seeing a film which illustrates (many) complex women of the agency. It's understandable that we don't want to keep casting a negative eye over women in the film, but I'm also troubled by the idea that we are not allowed to have troubling women. The thriller is interesting because of its complications and dynamics between the film's women, with the film's most telling scenes displaying two women as the smartest people in the room while the males cluck around them and hold their balls.

Affleck and Pike head up a specifically cast, which highlights the best features of each member. Affleck has always been a decent self-affecting straight man (see: Changing Lanes) while Pike's mix of cool girl and ice queen has been something noted since her appearance as a Bond Girl. Without saying too much, she is dangerously effective in this role. Even the smaller roles are smartly picked. Carrie Coon is quietly tragic. Tyler Perry has a funky charm about himself while Kim Dickens has not garnered enough plaudits for her tough cookie cop role of Detective Rhonda Boney. There's also a knowing nod to How I met your Mother's Barney in the casting of Neil Patrick Harris as the wonderfully Naïve ex-boyfriend Desi.

Gone girl is not Fincher's best film, but it certainly is one of its most winking, with the film summing up the crumbling of a modern relationship in the most OTT way possible, but also doing a decent job of portraying a decimated Middle America which reanimates to an inhuman form by the pervading of the media. The Ace in the Hole style observations feel even more cutting than we give credit for as we observe a broken society that is easily forgotten while it glares mesmerised by flashing bulbs and gossipy chatter of a missing person who has the image of having it all. The film isn't perfect, with its resolution feeling slightly more obtuse than it should be. The novel also understands the headspace of these people more, while the film has a feel of punches being pulled. But there's clearly a reason why I saw Gone Girl twice. It's a delectably dark piece of entertainment.

 

 

 

Review: Haywire

Year: 2012
Director: Steven Sodenbergh
Screenplay: Lem Dobbs
Starring: Gina Carano, Micheal Douglas, Ewan McGregor, Micheal Fassbender, Antonio Banderas

Synopsis is here:

Haywire is a film, which I found easier to like more than love. I can sense that many; expecting something a little more conventional, will find it extremely easy to hate. But let me say one thing, it's a Steven Sodenbergh film, one should expect something a little different. Take away those Ocean films and even his more mainstream features still can feel like a round peg in a square hole. Despite how that sounds, I do mean that is a good way.

Lean, mean and tightly crafted, Haywire is a volatile piece that doesn't outstay it's welcome. During it's stay however, we do get to jump and jetset around a variety of different locales to a retro 60's David Arnold soundtrack. All this while we follow Mallory, an ex-marine cum private sector special trying to find out (violently) who double crossed her, during her last job and why. To quote Bad Boys 2: "shit just got real".

Looking for anything too in-depth in a film like this; is much like eating a dry cracker to rehydrate yourself. My second paragraph has told you nearly everything that happens within the movie. This comes at a price however as the film does hit anything past the superficial. The film just doesn't give us enough to get a hold of. I found myself comparing the film to The Limey (also scripted by Lem Dobbs), a genre exercise which is equally as straight edged as this. However, despite Sodenbergh's 1999 feature being more experimental than this (non liner editing and the like), it still manages to have a solid emotional centre through Terrence Stamp's amusing yet strikingly sad performance.

The only strikes that land here are from the fists of the hard hitting Gina Carano whose one note performance is understandable considering the tightness of the script and lack of acting experience but struggles if the film even sniffed at trying to hit a station above ass kicking. The story is very typical spy affair, while it's difficult to find anything within the character of Mallory that stands out other than the obvious.

Is the first time casting of the MMA/Former American Gladiator a piece of stunt casting? Yes and No. In comparison to the likes of Brittany Spears (Crossroads), Christina Aguilera (Burlesque) or Mariah Carey (Glitter) Carano has not got the inbuilt fan-base to lie back on, nor does it feel like an expansion of a brand (although considering her maxim spread I may be wrong). Carano has a certain look and build that fits the character she plays. Having an known actress could have been distracting, particularly as the fight scenes are edited and shot in such a way to emphasise Carano's talents. However Gina is no Thespian and it shows, making it feel at times that Sodenbergh hired her because, why not? With this said, none of the acting really rises above a certain level.

Despite this the film is gorgeous to look at, happily hops from place to place in an amusing James Bond fashion and the fight sequences are expertly put together in long, unflinching, unbroken takes. There is a gimmicky feel to having Carano in the part but it is amazing to watch her in full flow. While the linked photoshoot may cause fapping within the teenage boy sector, Sodenbergh takes away the blatant sexuality. This gives us a character who can be looked at in the same way as any male figure if they were placed in the same position. It would be nice if the character, performance and story could catch up with the gender politics.

Note: Head to Movies.com for a an interesting article on Carano's role within the movie and in the action movie dynamic.