Article: Giving The Shunt a Punt

 

During this pandemic, the wish of many has been revisiting films which bring about comfort and losing oneself in safety. I, however, found myself routinely absorbed in more disconcerting material. I have gone back to reading Pet Semetery and re-watching warped texts such as Society. Escaping the bleak into the realms of cheerful escapism does not make it go away. Staring at the abyss may not bring warmth but it has helped me push away that sense of complacency which can arrive in the face of uncertainty.

Society deals with one teenager’s deep pit of uncertainty. Billy is unsure of his parents. On the face of things, in the eyes of those without certain privileges, it is difficult to see why. Growing up amongst Beverly Hill’s upper class, Billy’s increasing worries over his parents and sister should come across as the kind of growing pains one expects to face if your hill has one tree, or your creek has a Dawson in it. Billy’s fears deepen as he slowly uncovers indications that suggest his family are not what they may seem. As a horror film, it is best to keep quiet on the gory secrets, however, Bill soon learns the price of privilege can cost more than an arm and or a leg.

There is a somewhat twisted pleasure in watching Brian Yuzna’s cinematic attack on the ruling classes. Even now 32 years on, as a sickly satirical horror film Society is still notable for slapping its social commentary right in the face of those who watch it without a hint of subtly. The rich are different from you and me. They see the world almost as if they are a different species. By the much-commented end of the film, we find how just how different they are. This is a film with no room for subtext.

It is easy to dismiss society as a film because a lot of the film's runtime would not look out of place in a bland 80's teen romp. The film has so much wrapped up in its outrageous climax that the rest of the film can feel off. A little forgettable. Save for some of the other more absurd visuals and hints which keep prodding us to the grand reveal. Charlie Lyne writes about the film’s ending as an extraordinary yet laments the films first hour as tedious. An unfortunate response as while the film’s opening hour rolls at a deliberate pace, it is peppered with crude and surreal clues. Contorted spines are witnessed through shower screens. Bodies disappear and are quickly covered up. The impassive reaction to the death of a school colleague by Bill’s parents is ominous, made bleaker in watching the current events at the time of writing in which a global pandemic has had politicians and talking heads make blasé comments about fatality percentages. Often because of their desire to kick start the economy. But Society is also a film about building to a crescendo. Its finale is a fountain of viscera, yet it means nothing without the build-up. The reaction to the apparent death of Blanchard is grim. His actual demise is a fate worse than death. 

At the time of writing this global pandemic has highlighted how labour outside the ruling classes has kept our current system functioning.  Elsewhere people have weighed up the economy in comparison to the health of others. Placing terms such as underlying conditions under disturbingly vague terms. Only recently Conservative MP Esther McVey made comments regarding “tolerable levels of death".  Referenced in comparison to costs in a way which would fit snugly into a rough draft of Dr Strangelove (1962). Such statements are stated with conviction to express seriousness, yet the blasé nature of such remarks come to be quite unpleasant when you consider the commenter to appear disengaged from the reality of the words. Something often stated about the comfortable class. The indifferent way those who do not worry look upon those that do. Something that Society enjoys toying within the most sweaty, gruelling way. Fuel for pleasure.

Society is so memorable because the metaphor is so blunt and yet so remarkably pure. Horror films are often great features to craft social-political subtext within them. Brian Yuzna does away with any idea of subtlety. Recent current affairs only seem to make the film more potent. Ryan Lambie notes in Den of Geek that the film’s title song is the Eton Boating Song. A piece of music associated with Eton College. A university is known for not only known for its elite standing, but also for the fact that both ex-Prime Minister David Cameron and current leader Boris Johnson were both educated there. Kieran Fisher remarks the dubious statements made by America's 45th President, Donald Trump about his daughter. They unwittingly mirror the incestuous nature of Bill’s parents towards their female offspring. 

Conversations over the one percent have been drawn into sharp focus in recent times. Billionaires made serious bank during a time of great trauma for many areas of the working class and a film like Society is not the first film to highlight the riches ability to feed off the lesser advantaged. But within the purity of the film’s message lies its relevancy.

Reaching comparisons aside, in the film’s text, the rich are just rich. You do not need knowledge of the Eton Boating Song. There are no party-political lines drawn, yet the incestuous aspect of the film brings around the feeling that it does not matter whose president or which party leads. Those who have can dominate those who have not. Despite more recent comparisons being made in this piece, the film still leans to the anti-materialistic cult films of its decade. Paired with John Carpenter’s They Live (1986) both make a potent double bill about the rich v poor era they inhabit. One of the most unsettling aspects lies in their protagonists discovering the hideous plot by the ruling powers, only to have their journey end in partial disruption, not completion. Both film’s climax with the secret world revealed, but not quelled. The film gives us a basic resolution to the plot but never imparts full closure.

The opening third features scenes which seem to imply that Billy paranoia is not false but has been blindsided by materialistic culture. His sister maybe favoured but he gets the flash jeep. There is an element of being bought into the culture. The film still resonates due to that point of view being still quite deep-seated in the current culture. As the western world glorifies billionaires while demonising lower-wage workers on social media platforms, ignoring the manipulation of labour which has allowed such an uneven balance between the rich and poor, Society still holds a sense of potency. We all have smartphones. We blast off whatever opinion about those we deem lesser than ourselves while those in the upper echelons feed off the exploitation. In Society, the antagonists of the film have been with us forever.  Still feeding and shunting. In the present, dark humour exists. Watching the space race between the Musks and Bezos’ of the world, it is as if we have modern-day shunters. Seeking a way back home after a long feed.

Do we need more films that play in the same satirical playbox as Society? I feel we have them. Both Jordan Peele’s Get Out (2017) and US (2019) load themselves with similar sinister underpinnings. The death cult which inhabits The Invitation (2015) may not be as macabre in its dealings or as blatant with its targets, yet the film harbours elements of bizarre cult ritual which work well with Society as a double bill of the west of America losing its mind. One does hope budding filmmakers go back to films like Society and take notes. From its modest openings of late 80s cheese to its perverse ending. A finish which must be seen to be believed.  Society is a cult film for a reason. It is doubtful that a consensus will be willing to give the Shunt a punt. However, in a pandemic like which with the ongoing discourse of current events being what they are, it is quite possibly one of the perfect times to watch such a film.

Society is available on Blu-Ray

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Article: Digging for Answers

I remember first discovering Dellamorte Dellamore through an old horror film website around the time the internet was young and dial-up ruled supreme. Through a stroke of luck, I managed to record it off channel 4 a year or two later. Channel 4 being the prime location for film oddities at the time. Nowadays, the likes of Dellamorte Dellamore can be found through scrolling through Amazon on whatever home entertainment system you favour. At the time of writing, you can stream it free on-demand with Amazon Prime.

For a film nearing 30 years old, Dellamorte Dellamore has lost little of its macabre strangeness. Like so many cult features, it’s defined by not being forced into an anorexic space of specification. Francesco Dellamorte (Rupert Everett) is a cemetery custodian who is sick of having to kill the city’s dead a second time around, as they keep raising from their grave for an unknown reason.

While Francesco has grown weary of being the town’s sole caretaker of the living dead (his intellectually impaired assistant Gnaghi is of little support), the Gilliam-esque bureaucracy of the local administration seems uninterested in looking into his claims. Although as opposed to filing the correct paperwork, Francesco prefers dispatching the living dead with his revolver as not only he finds it easier, he also wishes to keep his job.

Francesco soon becomes fixated on an unnamed young widow (Anna Falchi) whom he encounters at her husband’s funeral. After a frosty reception, she responds in kind. Things become complicated however when the woman dies while consummating their relationship on the deceased man’s grave. Because this is an Italian zombie horror film that looks at the word taboo with a hilarious amount of disdain.

That speck of plot doesn’t even cover half of what Dellamorte Dellamore is about or is really interested in. In the same way, George A Romero’s zombie saga made satirical commentary on American society dependant of the era, Michele Soavi’s feature leans in towards surrealism and philosophical observations. The film’s English title; “Cemetery Man” sounds so infantile when you consider that the original title Dellamorte Dellamore is Italian wordplay which can be interpreted as either the rather literal “About Death, About Love” or the slightly more poetic “About the death of love”. No doubt the change to Cemetery Man for English Speakers was brought about due to some claptrap about being “more commercial”.

Dellamorte Dellamore is not as interested in being commercially viable as it is in surrealist and abstract alliterations and pontification between love and death. Both Francesco and Gnaghi are transfixed throughout the film with ideas of re-claiming the unclaimable. From fixing shattered skulls to falling in love with re-animated, decapitated heads of teenagers. The duo is somewhat obliged to both embrace and repeal the final float down the river Styx in a way that’s compelling as well as deeply humorous. An early scene has Gnaghi fighting against the wind as it blows away dead leaves. He ends up literally lying on top of them in a futile attempt to fight the inevitable.

The film appears to owe a lot to the surrealist movement with visuals that directly lift from Rene Magritte’s painting “The Lovers”. Meanwhile, Francesco keeps seeing his unnamed infatuation in different encounters as different women, although always played by Falchi. Each confrontation has Francesco delivers a new challenge to navigate, all the while each persona acknowledges Francesco as if they’ve met and loved each other before. The surrealist notions play out in a manner that feels like an offshoot of the cinematic works of Luis Brunel. More acutely Brunel’s final feature That Obscure Object of Desire (1977). Whereas Brunel interchangeably uses two different actresses to play the temperamental Conchita from scene to scene, both films use surrealist juxtapositions to heighten each film's quixotic sentiments of love.

While the film is as gruesome as one would expect from a particular type of Italian horror movie Dellamorte Dellamore has a dirty love for lobbing metaphysical pipebombs towards its viewer. “Hell, at a certain point in life, you realize you know more dead people than living.” Francesco rambles in a plaintive voice over. Morose, twilight life thinking from the proclaimed “engineer” of a cemetery with the Latin inscription “RESURRECTURIS” on the gate. Of course, this plays into the film’s dirt dry humour. One of the film’s earliest shots earmarks a snowglobe. We witness the visual that inhabits the globe later in the movie in a way that will either take viewers out of the film or have them embrace its eccentrics. As a good cult film does. Either way, the element encapsulates the circular patterns that inhabit the film but also slaps the viewer in the face with the film’s poignant final moments. When the film asks us to reconcile with a man whose obsession with the grave takes him to the brink. What is there beyond love, beyond death, and past our imagination? When we leave the comfort of our former ourselves past the point of no return, what else exists? Anything? In the morbidly wicked view of Dellamorte Dellamore perhaps not.

Article: She’s Lost Control – Some words on A Teacher (2013)

Hannah Fidell’s debut movie A Teacher is short on running time but high on anxiety. It feels like pouring scalding water into a small cup over someone head while they are bound. Filling the container to the brim with the subject wincing in the knowledge that the cup at any time could spill or overflow. Drops of the liquid sting the person’s head, as they await with dread the moment that the pourer will twist their waist. Someone is going to get hurt.

That someone is Diana Watts (Lindsay Burdge). The film starts innocuously with a small glimpse of her basic routine. Jogging. Driving to work. Finally, we land at her job. She teaches English to High Schoolers. One student; Eric Tull (Will Brittain), asks for a book. It is handed to him with no incident. You feel that Diane’s face flickers slightly after the ask. If only for a second. Later that evening, the two meet up again. Eric walks with a swagger into Diane’s car. They have sex. We now understand that flicker.

The story is familiar. There’s been films and novels involving Ephebophilia since time memorial. Alissa Nutting’s debut novel; Tampa (2012) treads in similar ground, while Josh Radnor, of How I Met Your Mother fame, wading into the pool with his second film Liberal Arts (2013). But A Teacher refrains from toppling into the fully amoral quandary of Tampa, nor does it hedge self-satisfied bets like Radnor’s feature. Fidell’s film follows a more plausible outcome not too dissimilar to the likes of Kristen Roupenian’s popular short story Cat Person (2017), where characters are left isolated and fractured due to the dynamics at play.

A Teacher lacks the seductive temptress who inhabits a novel like Tampa. Nutting’s main character isn’t just deliciously sinful but is almost a model by description, designed almost exclusively to lure in the male gaze. It’s no surprise that Tampa’s lead could easily entice in an impressionable teen. Diana as a character is neatly framed as the type of young, approachable woman that you wouldn’t be surprised to walk down a school hall.

This is within the build of the character in which the film finds of its small areas of complexity. Diana is young and pretty but is not set up as the vampy predator, dressed to turn the heads of horny young boys as well as pervy parents or snooty work colleagues. Nor does she hold the type of personality that draws attention to herself. Her colleagues are mildly shocked that she has a brother; Hunter (Jonny Mars). We don’t know the timespan of Diana relationship with Eric, but it’s long enough to see that it’s carnal, comfortable and kept away from her roommate, whom she is relatively close to. Fidell layers more complication to proceedings in small doses. In a singular scene involving her brother, he refers to their mother who is suffering from an undisclosed mental illness. When Hunter mentions his concern for Diane, the conversation is shut down. There’s enough ambiguity to suggest not only an ailing parent but possible past conflict. The most poignant conversation Diana holds with Eric has her reference secretly having sex with her high school boyfriend unbeknown to her mother, again alluding to a vague possibility of trauma. Fidell drops breadcrumbs within the story but never sets down a full trail, allowing a viewer to question the reasonings of the behaviour.

Diana is framed by Fidell as an archipelago through the film. Isolating her from characters with simple blocking or surrounding her with large amounts of negative space. The one hobby we see Diana have is running, and she is shown performing this solitary hobby throughout the film. One of the more telling moments has Diana wandering amongst the wilderness of a ranch, which Eric’s father owns, the changes from a panning close-up to static as she grows smaller within the frame. Early on her roommate introduces her to two shlubby men more suited to her age. “You’re the teacher that every little kid wanted to bang” one states. It’s an amusing wink to the situation, but it also highlights the arrested development which seems rampant within the narrative. There’s no surprise that Diana is looking elsewhere to date when her so-called suitors are working on websites called LOLpoorpeople.com, yet by embarking on the relationship which appears doomed from the outset with a teenager, Diana shows her own irresponsibility, again leaving her adrift and isolated.
Whereas Josh Radnor’s Liberal Arts does little particularly interesting with the hot for teacher narrative, Fidell takes the things to haunting, plausible places. One feels that she’s able to by simply making the switch of gender. Fiction is littered with older males having a younger woman as a springboard to “finding himself”. I’m hard on Radnor’s liberal arts because it’s so soft on itself. Vaguely charming at times it’s a film that smugly allows its character to waltz into this young girl’s life, have a little bit of a fling but walk away with everyone “grown”. Fidell’s film is far more interested in muddying the waters with the power dynamics.

Diana, the person who should be seen as the moral compass, stumbles into a grease pit of fixation based around her impulsiveness. Eric not only as a jock with boyish charm but as a relatively sensible teenager who just happens to have the coding of the type of adolescent sweetheart that you could see girls reminiscing about after their school days end. Fidell frames Eric in dreamy white vignettes when Diana daydreams about him. In one instance she sends him a nude image with no foresight into what doing so may entail. Fidell’s blocking of these characters arrives at its strongest point when a seated Eric instructs Diana framed and confined in a doorway) to strip. Diana; the adult, the teacher is standing above Eric the student, and yet he holds all the power. A reverse play of Jemima Stehil’s strip photo set series in which the power of the sexual dynamics’ rests within Stehil herself despite asking prominent male players in the art world to take pictures of her while she disrobes. There is only one moment in which Eric’s control over Diana is relented, but even by the film's conclusion, it is clear how much is at stake for Diana over him.

It is the adolescent-like behaviour exhibited by Diana, through a deeply committed performance by Lindsay Burdge which makes A Teacher an absorbing watch. In this current age where modern culture writers want to reduce views of gender into 280 characters, Fidell creates a film which poses complicated questions around female desire, while wringing pockets of empathy from places we may not expect. Diana is no simpering wallflower, nor is she a hyper-confident mega bitch. A Teacher is smart in portraying a complicated woman who simply does not have her life on her own terms. Fidell intelligently mines the drama within that.

It’s easy to say that we should be morally against what occurs in the film. That’s easy. What’s interesting here is watching a film which garners an element of compassion over a situation we’ve clearly been told is wrong. But this is a film which is far more interested in emotional investment and portraying mood via camera placement. Due to this, the film’s resolution may come across as unsurprising and abrupt, yet it still says everything it needs to more accurately than a film with double it’s running time. By the end of the film’s mere 75 minutes, we’ve watched the cup spill over. It burns.

A Teacher is Available on Amazon Prime in the UK

Article: Some thoughts on Infinity War

Note: While I have taken an effort to try and not and spoil the film, this piece will mention other fragments of the Marvel Universe which may affect your thoughts on Infinity War.

The Avengers: Infinity War has been a project which has been ten years in the making. It looks set to become one of the most financially successful features of its era, and it’s vindication for marvel studios who, prior to their release of 2008’s Ironman, were staring bankruptcy in the face. In watching the film, it has highlighted itself to be the best of what it is, a mega-franchise, a spectacle-laden, big-budget episode. A cinematic universe.

In the past few months, friends have objectified to my views that these films (nay all films) should ever be critiqued. They should be only viewed with the aims of “entertainment” only. As if we are all entertained by the same thing. Social Media, fan tribalism, and brand loyalty have also helped contribute to a nasty form siege mentality. Not only you should only look at these cultural texts as trivial distractions, you must pick a side and deal. All these films should be looked at like candy floss and we should be happy that we’re being delivered with all sugar we crave. I do like to indulge in sugar, but I’m also highly aware of my root canals.

Infinity Wars is a grand, all singing, all dancing affair. Something that in all honesty should be seen to be believed. A film looking to encompass pieces of 18 other films and finally drive them towards an end game. It is a fascinating and frustrating endeavour. It is a film full of eye-boggling spectacle, enjoyable laughs, and stunning imagery. But it is also a film that not only requires you to watch 30+ of other films for a viewer to truly understand it’s sense of gravitas, but it moves towards a climax that rings hollow. Less because it’s section one of two parts, more because the rules of this universe, as well as our own governing rules via the executive bean counters, have already taken away a true sense of closure. This is the ultimate “tune in next time folks”.

Joss Whedon has his detractors and understandably so, yet his previous excursions into The Avengers universe, while imperfect, always had a particular sense of purpose. A reasoning of why The Avengers avenged. The best Marvel films have a reasoning and understand of stakes which set them apart from some of the other entries. Whedon’s simple placement of a young waitress placed in danger and saved by Captain America (Chris Evans) in the first Avengers film may only be two scenes but gives a simple grounding of what’s at stake that is simply missing in Infinity Wars. It hasn’t got time. There’s all the characters to get through. Most of them Superheroes. Jokes have been made at The Defenders expense, but seriously, where could you fit them? But this complicated series of connections feels does feel odd. The world is truly at stake from one of the most interesting villains seen in this universe but I as a few never gained a sense of the world, because unlike some of the more compacted or isolated Marvel features, there’s never a sense that the world really features.

The film’s tonal shift and the downbeat climax is meant to portray a sense of maturity and feels like a clear shot at critics who have commented on how there often a feeling of comeuppance isn’t felt with some of these characters. However, this is where not obsessing over Marvel product would come in handy, we’ve been here before when it comes to “losing” characters within this universe and it’s hard to feel any emotion to the events, with the knowledge of contractual obligations and Clark Gregg’s Agent Coulson appearing as fresh as a daisy on a certain tv show. Add to this the need to wade through 18 films to get why these characters “just turn up”, what’s witnessed feels disjointed. Other writers have labeled the film's climax as cheap, and it’s easy to see why.

Of course to say this is to be traitorous. How dare anyone say anything at all negative about a film that looks set of being one of the biggest money spinners of all time. It must be loved and only loved. There are parts that I really enjoy. See the guardians of the galaxy here was far more enjoyable than their second adventure. I cannot and will not fault the performances of the cast, in particular, an unbelievably solid Josh Brolin (I can’t wait for the meta references in Deadpool 2).  The Russo’s and their unit teams frame and execute the action set pieces with far more skill and grace than Ryan Cooglar’s efforts in Black Panther, while Thanos will stand alongside Killmonger, Loki, and Killgrave as the best villains of the Marvel rouge’s gallery. There is a lot to like here. Possibly even love. I just wish it hadn’t felt so empty. I’m relatively ok with having to plow through 30 hours of films to get to a certain point. It’s just sad that said point only feels like it’s gearing you up to watch another 30.  

Article: The Year That Was: 2015

When we were hurtling towards the end of another year, I was politely asked by two online outlets, if I would be so kind to deliver a top ten list. After a brief rumination, I decided why not? I may not invest too much into lists any more, but the internet still wolfs them down like the sweet clickbait candy that they are. Remember who you're writing for, I guess.

Apologies for the slight snark. I mean no harm. However, since last year, I’m finding myself more interested in things I found in the year overall, rather than a scything down the favourites in order to separate the crop.

Subjects like sex and erotica had a torrid time in the few films I saw, which focused on them.  The over hyped, unevenly baked 50 Shades tried to sell vanilla sex scenes as more than they actually were (or could ever be), because whips and chains. Shades may not have been the total turkey man had thought (and secretly hoped). Its box office gross clearly showed that, be it hype, curiosity, friskiness or a mix of all three, there was an adult (mostly female) market to be exploited. It’s a pity that despite a rise in sex accessories, the film’s vanilla sex scenes do little to take it’s ideals of sensual escapism further.

The Arthouse scene, which has far less qualms in explicit material gave us Gasper Noe’s self-indulgent Love. A plodding, underwritten sex fest with a narrative of angsty Sundance aspirations. Noe’s shoe gazing feature not only pales in comparison when observing the trillions of gigabytes of internet porn (which deliver their cumshots with far more earnestness), but feels vastly inferior to mumblecore features of a decade ago. Lest we forget Lars Von Trier’s flawed saga Nymphomaniac (2013), which despite being also indulgent and overlong, at least attempts to say something greater about how our emotions conflict and contrast with our physical intimacy. Love’s narrative, give or take a few elements, wouldn’t feel too out of place in a line-up of overegged young adult features. 50 Shades may have been born from young adult fan fiction (Twilight), but Love’s self-conscious anxieties make E. L James’ opus feel like a heady brew of maturity.

Documentary Chemsex did its best to spread moral panic, while feeling light on facts. Important insights of isolation and community almost get lost between a vast mass of talking heads and stories, which never give us enough time to breathe. It’s main conceit; that sectors of homosexual males are mixing a deadly cocktail of drugs and unprotected sex, is so focused on one sector of Britain, it feels inconclusive and incomplete.

The winner for me when it came to any discussion of sex or sensuality within cinema, was Peter Strictland’s dreamily shot The Duke of Burgundy. The film comments on sex, kink and love with the type delicacy and emotion we should expect from erotica. The film’s Crown Jewel? It’s all woman cast, which help provide a fresh take on dominance, submission and obsession. Losing the need of the all-seeing, all-encompassing male gaze.

This brings me on to 2015 bringing forth some engaging features which give a positive engagement of the dreaded word of diversity. The films that lingered in my head, were often great with their commentaries and ideas of gender and race. Dear White People updated Spike Lee’s School Daze with a grander scope and little Do the Right Thing structuring. Straight Outta Compton was a blockbuster biopic, which did quite well in depicting N.W.A as a glossy, urban version of The Sex Pistols. The aforementioned The Duke of Burgundy and it’s all female cast, Carol, were all well put together. The 7th Fast and Furious once again revelled in its multi-racial cast and multi-million box office haul.

Star Wars: The Force Awakens illustrated organic progressive qualities, while Fury Road gave us a new, well rounded female hero wrapped within a Mad Max film. It’s important to remember that Fury Road’s white male director made the most of its female editor. Rebecca Ferguson’s covert agent in the fifth MI entry also helped the aims and intentions of the Internet film culture, if not the wider culture, in terms of gender.

It was, however, the Martian that I found to be the most warming and heartening in a world that's feeling increasingly isolating and dangerous. Now an Oscar nominated feature, it’s we are the world commentary may feel a little trite, but god damn it made the idealist in me smile.

Ryan Coogler’s (Fruitvale Station) Creed has made waves recently, revamping the Rocky franchise with an African American lead. I have yet to see it at the time of writing this, yet its solid word of mouth is showing us that both Coogler and Michael B Jordan may certainly have something to say in the realms of representation. The fact these aforementioned films with their successful attempts at bringing across diversity show that the passive white male hero can be joined by others quite easily. Just make the material compelling. It's important to realise that roughly around 500 Hollywood movies get released each year. The fact that The Huffington Post can only find 11 films with black cast members (not even leads) of that average, worth watching that's not even of the same percentage equivalent. You can see the frustrations. It's more troubling when we place into consideration that we're seeing artists break down the speaking parts of the POC cast by the minute. We don't a complete reversal of the casts. But we do need at least try and achieve the percentage representation.

I say this as social media and ignorance has seemingly helped warp the ideal of progressiveness on both sides. American cinemas felt it necessary to bulk up security for Straight Outta Compton for reasons that are quite transparent to people like myself. That said, things such as the push for Idris Elba to play everybody, or the internet outrage which sparks the moment a z-lister feels hard done by, are well intentioned but often feel short sighted. For me the push for more BAME filmmakers in a stronger position to create their own stories is far more important to me than forcibly seeing a POC become James Bond or fighting to get Ava DuVernay to do a Marvel film. Particularly when we see just how clear these franchise films run on a track. Coolger’s positioning into the Rocky franchise may hold a certain amount of transparency (all about the franchise Benjamins), but its success for both director and star may help open up new pathways for POC artists. The same certainly goes for Straight Outta Compton.

I have missed a load of films for the simple reason that either they've been smaller release that don't enter cinemas. Or mainstream fare that looks like tripe. Annoyingly, with the likes of Disney owning Star Wars, Marvel and of course, their own product. There's a bleakness that sometimes hovers over me like a dark cloud. Films that will look and sound the same, now dictate openings with such velocity, it can feel depressing. Avengers Age of Ultron did little to remain in my thoughts. Only really adding more characters to a larger film that doesn’t wish to end. Other franchise entries such as Spectre felt exactly like the name suggests; a ghostly re-tread of Bonds of the past with what little deviation gained from the earlier Craig movies being rubbed out. Franchise films are beginning to feel rushed and neglectful of their scripts. When Marvel and Disney release their timelines and release dates for their ongoing franchises. May mind was instantly cast back to When Alien 3 (1993) had a release date before a finished screenplay. There’s been many examples of this, although none stick out as egregiously as that one.

Yet now fan demand and the demands of commerce outstrip artistic creativity in mainstream cinema so perversely, it’s sometimes hard to see the forest for the trees. The Mamo Podcast gave the perfect description of the 2nd biggest film of the year: The good enough blockbuster.  Jurassic World is dumb, weakly scripted and spiteful, yet has enough branding and call backs in it for fans to be happy and the book with its palatable themes can be forgotten once more. A shame.

Also worrying was while Star Wars: The Force Awakens was a fun re-entry to a much loved cinematic world, it also felt like a re-polished Episode 4. A film with no real surprises (despite the cries of no spoilers), and an insurance that nothing will be really tampered with. Lest we upset fans by offering something new.

That both titles made a ton of cash with the audiences trading in the more solid storytelling of the previous films for the chance to hear the music, see the characters and feel like a child again is quite perturbing. Escapism is fine, but I wish these films would be scrutinised as much as other films which are just as fictional but don't have the nostalgia to lean on.

For all the issues the Sony hack delivered, isn't it funny that The Interview, the film that was called to be banned, still pooped out a cinema release, before cropping up on Sky a few months later? It is now widely available and not much happened about the hack since. Although a fair damage certainly hit Sony at the point of impact, like so much of our view of such events, everything was quickly forgotten. Meanwhile the revealing talk about race that came from some of the executives’ emails, including the dubious riff what Obama’s film tastes, help highlight why I’m not surprised at yet another Oscar whitewash year. I wonder if such attacks, along with the PS4 hack may become more familiar. Though how it will affect our entertainment is another story.

So we’re three weeks into the New Year with more franchise features and sequels to look forward to. In the past four weeks, we’ve lost four artists (Haskell Wexler, Alan Rickman, Vilmos Zsigmond and David Bowie) whose contributions to cinema will certainly inspire many for years to come. In light of my aforementioned ramblings, I certainly do hope so.  Film critics will of course lament where the medium of criticism is going. Soon after expect the same critics to attack audiences/other critics/filmmakers with cheap snark and not see the connection. Twitter will get angrier. Brands will amass more cash. But as long as the films get made and entertain, things will be interesting.

Short Read: The Ending of the Graduate

The first time I saw the ending, I was young and naïve. My mind was addled by seeing homage’s of it in The Simpsons and Wayne’s World. I first viewed it as a heroic ending. The Boy got the Girl, the antagonists were vanquished, if only for a little while. I never really watched their faces. Nor did I grasp what the shot was trying to say. To me, it was all so very… safe.

It was only during a re-watch with my girlfriend, that my ignorance slapped me in the face. The foolhardiness of the Benjamin’s “plan”. The fact that there is no plan at all. Their faces not only show their youth, but just how lost they are at such a tentative and esoteric point at their life. I saw echoes of Mrs Robinson and her reasoning behind what she was trying to do despite her methods. In their faces I noticed their realisation. There’s beauty fading in that take, and they’re only just finding out. The moment is bittersweet. Their decision may leave them as jaded as those they’ve just left. The film’s title becomes a cruel joke. The Graduate? Of what? Certainly not Life. He has a lot to learn.

When a filmmaker can crystallise all the fear, worry, jaded and misguidedness of youth, his characters feel throughout the narrative, compile it into one moment and make this captured malaise seem so universal and iconic, it is then that we have a real storyteller. R.I.P Mike Nichols.

THE YEAR THAT WAS: 2013

2013 turned out to be a pretty bad year for me from a personal standpoint. My pleasant experiences have been marred and tainted by many displeasing ones, including job losses, suicide and relationship worries. It’s nothing that many others have faced, but for the first time in my own life, I’ve found it more than a little overwhelming. Mostly due to the intense timeframe of when these things occurred.  It is times like these that make me happy that I can still lose myself in the glare of the screen.

On New Year’s Eve, I once again found myself talking to some old friends about movies, with more current features gaining much of the focus. “I just want to watch silly, stupid things” said a old university friend, who quit film studies during the first year as he felt the course sucked the fun out of the actual watching of movies. 

Another friend (who completed film studies with much displeasure) appeared to nod in agreement. This isn’t new to me. I’ve seen a few old friends both in college and university, become disinterested in film, due to having to study it.

As usual, I opened my big mouth and nearly killed the conversation with my belief that when it comes to film, there must be a decent balance between easy entertainment that most audiences appear to crave and of course films which look to enrich the viewer with what it considers intelligent discourse. While it’s great to crunch the corn, slurp the soda and zone out to the often stated (by critics) “mindless spectacle”, I do believe there should also be room for something else. Something that can be savoured without the need for a second or third part to rectify all that was “missing” from the film you just spent XX amount on. What frustrated me with a lot of this year’s viewing, looking back, was that I really noticed that balance starting to slip. Not just from film to film (just speak to Mark Kermode about the false belief of choice at a multiplex) but within film themselves.

Many complained about how disappointing the summer blockbusters were and there are some interesting theories behind that. For me what I found was a lack of risk, ambition and that very balance that we used to find in films before. Three of the biggest films; Iron Man 3, Star Trek into Darkness and Man of Steel were all different franchises at different stages in their cycles, and yet every villain was a typical terrorist and their schemes had very little to differ them. All had lengthy running times, but plots that couldn’t really sustain them. All were shinny enough for brief amusement but did little to cement them within my mind. I couldn’t tell you anything about Star Trek in Darkness now, and I only watched it in the summer. I warmed to Man of Steel while I wrote about the film, but after a week I felt I lied about what I had scribbled down previously. There are other entries that I would like to re-engage with, but I know that deep down those titles can wait. Honestly; it’s not usually like this.

I think part of the problem is this the continuous arrested development which is taking place in mainstream movies. These features are becoming more and more impersonal with the only thing connecting them being the knowledge of the brand itself. The Benidict Cumberbatch’s twist that wasn’t a twist in Star Trek into Darkness was a very clear example of this. The reason this character exists in this film universe is only to remind you that he does. The same goes with the vague and needless nods that littered Spike Lee’s oddly limp Oldboy.  The words cut and paste has never felt more apt. But then again it is said that they’re all singing from the same hymn sheet.

With that in mind, I found it harder to gain that inmate connection I often get with movies. I’m now even less surprised by the continuous rise of the television golden age. The Walter Whites and Dexters of the small screen, present character conundrums that seem to appear less and less as brand recognition and franchise entries strengthen their hold. Let’s not lie to ourselves as if the era of Don Simpson didn’t exist and that all mainstream, populist films gave us intellectual sustenance. Broad is broad. But you only need to watch the first 30 minutes of A Good Day to Die Hard to notice there’s been an uncomfortable shift somewhere. As these characters and narratives are given less nuance, the warm feeling I enjoy has dimmed slightly.

The rabid internet culture hasn’t helped things, nor has the transitional state caused by technology dismantling the business model as we know it. Now we have an audience that want original and new product that doesn't stray from whatever source material it’s from and they want it at decent quality... for free. A quick glance at a film forum, comment board or twitter feed has reminded me just how all consuming the internet as become.

Normally I’m more critical of the idea that the quality of films are going down and often mention that we, the audience, are masters of our own cinematic destiny. Yet as 2013 wore on, I found myself becoming wearier of things I usually found easier to ignore. I’ve moved back to a town which has two cinemas, and yet both still show signs of only chasing the same audience to compete. It becomes maddening to know that certain films play at both while others (that could possibly do ok business) play at neither. I’ve upped my streaming options at home by signings on Netflix, but as this article illustrates, Netflix isn’t as welcoming to certain types of film lover as you may think. Issues I’ve found problematic in the past have improved their voice and learned to shout a little louder.

I shouldn’t complain too much, because as always, I still had some great film experiences at the cinema as well as at home. I still managed to struggle with picking ten favourite films out of a fair few that really hit the mark and I still enjoyed more than I truly hated. I’m just in the minority that’s seeing a bit too much of mould, and wouldn’t mind it being broken a bit more. Silly stupid films are fine, but there used to be a time when they felt smarter than that. 

As always; these are my favourites and you shouldn’t complain if you don’t see yours (No order):

Zero Dark Thirty

Stoker

Behind the Candelabra

Before Midnight

The World’s End

Only God Forgives

A Hijacking

Frances Ha

Gravity

What Richard Did

Damn Fine Honorable Mentions:

Django

Side Effects

Mud

Filth

Captain Phillips

Bling Ring

THE YEAR THAT WAS: 2012

Looking back at my personal favourites of the year, if there's one thing that stands out, it's that ever slippery concept of time. I watched a fair amount of features at the cinema this year and yet, looking at my list, I can only think of the films I had wanted to see and yet had no time to watch them. No Holy Motors, no Tabu and No Once upon a time in Anatolia. My cinema viewing (and blogging) has always leaned to more typical multiplex viewing and I do not apologize for that. However there is always an Animal Kingdom or Dogtooth that creeps up and reminds me of just how much how vast the world of cinema is. My top ten favourite lists are never chocked filled with foreign imports, but this year I've been more aware of how little world or even independent cinema I've managed to catch. A lot of this can be boiled down to mood, as you have to be in the right frame of mind for the likes of something like Holy Motors.

That said, this year has really shown just how my geography has affected what I watch. Back when I lived in Buckinghamshire, My local Picture House cinema was a bus ride away, and a trip to London was ten pounds cheaper. Now, living in Peterborough has reminded me just how annoying distribution can be here in the UK. My local Multiplex has a decent amount of screens and yet still very limited choice at the best of times. At least London is still within touching distance. I can only pity the poor souls who live in areas who have even less possibilities.

The tide is turning however, through the power of the internet. Yes, we still have the kinks in the armour (product value, piracy, availability, et al), however, in spite of this, it's slowly becoming clear just how much of a resource the web has become in terms of watching features. From streaming services such as Curzon on Demand and Mubi, to podcasts such as Filmspotting SVU, the areas of both distributing and acquiring are starting to see benefits in web releasing. So much that in the upcoming year I will have to evolve and develop my outdated ways of viewing and stop relying on just one web outlet for my viewing desires. Our viewing possibilities are becoming as extensive as the amount of films released. 

So here’s my (belated) favourite of the year 2012, as always in no order. Due to that elusive beast called time, there is one film that appears here, that did not gain a review. This is subject to change in the future. Note as always that these are my on personal favourites and not the "best", so locating me in any form and complaining on why XYZ isn't on the list will only met with a dead eyed gaze.

Shame

New York's restless being is encapsulated by one man's unquenchable desire for lust in Steve McQueen's dark and disturbing second feature. 

The Cabin in The Woods

   It polarised and pissed more people off than I had expected. However I fund Cabin to be a sneaky, deceptive and most importantly entertaining beast.

Searching for Sugarman

A good man is not measured by his work alone. Searching for Sugarman is a sensitive story of what lies 

behind a true artist. 

Something for Nothing: The Art of Rap

Rapping as a craft, expressed passionately by those who know it best. Ice-T's documentary may allow some glitz to get in the way, but it's humbleness of it's subject keeps it grounded.  

End of Watch

An aggressive and bold thriller about two good men who look for good in an corrosive environment.

Killer Joe

Matthew McConaughey beats the rom-com monster that near consumed him and becomes just one of the highlights of this twisted Kentucky Fried Melodrama

Looper

Rian Johnson updates La Jetee and 12 Monkeys in this invigorating Time Travel Thriller.

The Imposter

A dark disturbing character essay, that quite literately needs to be seen to be believed. 

Sightseers

Ben Wheatley's blackly comic take on lovers on the lam. Think Badlands in the Lake District.

The Master

P.T Anderson's feature polarises as much as it compels. Mesmerizing and ferocious performances, gorgeous cinematography and a unrelenting feeling of dread. Anderson finds beauty in the films ugly characters.  

HONOURABLE MENTIONS: The Grey, Chronicle, The Dark Knight Rises, Argo, The Avengers

Geek Planet Online: Lost and Found

"I feel some will agree with me that there was something so enriching, as a film fan, scanning the rows and rows of titles for something to pique your interest. I still love going into bricks and mortar stores, looking for deals or hidden gems, or picking up a title with great cover art."

I've had an article posted about missing those old ways of finding and watching films. Please click the quote to view.

THE YEAR THAT WAS 2011

At the end of last year I moaned about people’s attitudes to remakes and sequels and unfortunately due to the abundance of such films that flowed through this year, it seems that once again I’m  bitching about such things once more. Sorry.

The ever excellent MAMO podcast made the amusing point this year that all these people whining about remakes of foreign films are talking about movies that have already been adapted for them. Getting on your soapbox about the latest remake is one thing but the fact that they haven’t realised that said foreign film has been adapted to make sense for them in the way of subtitles anyway, helps make the argument moot.

 It seems that even the makers of the original features are now even above such talk. To find out that director Tomas Alfredson thought that his reaction towards American remake Let me in was childish, speaks volumes to a tinterweb brigade who are quick to yell BOYCOTT and ORIGINAL MOVIES when the next upcoming remake is announced but a quick to step in line when the next book/comic/graphic novel to film adaptation launches. It hasn’t escaped me that despite all this “Hollywood is so unoriginal” talk, the highest ranking film based on an original idea (Bridesmaids) lies 12 in worldwide box office gross.  Closer to home in the U.K. we see that yet again despite some fine features making appearances and friends not only on these shores but in the U.S, you’d be hard pressed to find the likes of Attack the Block making even a dent in the top U.K 30, let alone the top ten. This makes the homegrown antics of The Inbetweeners Movie quite an achievement, whether based on a T.V program or not.

The final entry of the Harry Potter series speaks much of the cinematic landscape. Based on a book, brand awareness in heaps, bankrolled by Warner Bros yet filmed here with British talent. Yes, lavish praise was once again heaped on the wizard franchise by muggles. And while I agree that such films like Potter and Bond are around and keep highly skilled crew in jobs in our world famous studios. The amount of profit made by these ventures don’t appear to putting as money into our fledging British film industry as one would like. It does however help allow mediocre films like Clash of the Titans sequels to get funded.

This brings me to the problematic area of distribution in which our mainstream cinemas still don’t believe in a fair fight. When I first worked in a cinema; I remember discovering that two major studios owned it. Much may have changed since I’ve left but I’m sure that the major studios still have the biggest stake in our cinemas and the ultimate decisions in what get shown. I’m constantly frustrated that movies seem to only be slanted towards an ignorant 15-24 male demographic whose only concerns are Robots hitting each other but this is something one must grin and bear until I move closer to London again and allowed to wallow in the glorious glow of the Curzon Cinema in Soho. As a lover of cinema, I will still try and seek out smaller gems when I can. The problem is of course, it’s most likely to be a home with microwave popcorn. Away from cinema screens filled with noisy, iphoning, dingbats.

Such talk explains why things don’t appear to be changing. If people are waiting to watch certain types of cinema at home, online or on blu-ray with massive screens then why would cinemas try and alter the viewing choices? The major budget films are all about those first three days (or more depending on those advanced screenings) in as many screens as possible, and it seems to be working still (despite falling viewership) Smaller films (particularly overseas markets) seem to be happy with the long game with the knowledge that it could find the audience it desires on the smaller screen. It’s all good asking for change, but even when the likes of Jonathan Rosenbaum have decided to set up shop at home than the cinema then many must be asking “what’s all the fuss about?”

With all this said I still watch as many movies as I can. It’s easy to bemoan many aspects of modern viewing (and I do at length), but the love of sitting in a dark room watching a movie still bewitches me. My only ask is that film should be viewed more importantly, as an art form and as a way we shape our culture. With the ability to capture motion being so easy for us these days, we take for granted how powerful the medium can be. Yes, entertainment does and will always be a factor when I pick up something to watch but one of the things that makes warm is when a film as the ability to teach, spark thought or debate, and of course move you. This year has been one in which such aspects have made that mark.

My favourite ten of the year (as always in no order):

Animal Kingdom

Grubby crime cinema from Australia. More in line with Greek Tragedy than Goodfellas. Michôd's feature debut is may have a low key feel, but the tension is ratcheted to its highest. It’s opening scene hooked me. It’s final moments left me on the ropes.

 Melancholia 

Melancholia is at times just as visually arresting as Von Trier's Antichrist, but is a far more precise being. Von Trier is far more accurate here and one of the reasons seems to be that the subject matter is closer to his heart. The dark clouds of depression loom large over both Antichrist and Melancholia but the latter shows a director whose far more in the mood to tackle (and even embrace) his demons then letting them run amok. Self absorption and pomp are still abound from the "best director in the world" but this is far more focused, far more at peace.

Hanna

It slips from action to drama without difficulty, it shrugs off its unoriginality and sketchy plot with well drawn out themes, strong lead character and visual flair. The music is immediate and kept me in the moment and I adored the films quiet loud quiet rhythm. Hanna doesn't say much different, but it has the ability to be more articulate when it's shouting it's message from the hills.

NEDS

Unrepentant to the end, provocative and just as relevant for now as it is for the era it’s set in. Like it’s lead character it’s tough to watch at times but compelling throughout.

Tree of Life

Malick’s film is a celebration of life, a joy in contemplation of us merely existing and how this fact alone can provide resonance in others. That our simply being here can provide happiness to those we touch.  This simple and yet deeply profound and affecting ideal is why I loved the film.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes

I thought it would be the weakest blockbuster of the year. Turns out was the most exhilarating one and one of the only summer flicks that actually wanted to tell a story. The film also featured one of the most fist pumping, barnstorming set pieces of the year, set on the San Francisco Bridge.

Drive

If I wanted to act clever; when talking about Drive, I'd say something along the lines of: A brutal symphony, tinged with flecks of 80's nostalgia and machismo.  But I’m better off in stating that Drive is a highly entertaining, stylish piece of trash. A classically tragic anti-hero, a soundtrack that once heard you can’t shake off and a beautifully shot L.A. I was in heaven watching this.

Tinker Tailor Solider Spy

Alfredson's film works so well because it take time over showing how deeply isolated the spy game is. Close relationships are broken, belittled and bargained for, information is called gold dust for good reason and moral compasses are as murky as the films cold, drab colour scheme that Alfredson utilises to enhance the tone of the film. The film is literally as grey as the the shades these characters dwell in.

The GuardIn yet another year in which I found most of the Hollywood comedies waning somewhat, it’s was wonderful to stumble upon this low-fi Irish indie gem. A film I hope find its audience on DVD like it’s kissing cousin In Burges.

We need to talk about Kevin

Ramsay’s direction as never been so precise, while Swinton simply dominates the screen in this psychological battle of wits. The films draining central relationship  (with Ezar Miller giving a particularly malicious performance) manages to keep it’s ambiguity and tension to the end.

Honourable Mentions: Beats, Rhymes & Life:The Travels Of A Tribe Called Quest, Archipelago, Senna, Essential Killing, Red State, Warrior, Kill List

Other Film highlights: Meeting directors Duncan Jones (Moon, Source Code) and Joe Cornish (Attack the Block). The biggest thing for me this year however was meeting one of my idols; Mark Kermode, in Oxford and talking to him about The Ninth Configuration, Thelma Schoonmaker and Shutter Island