You Gats-ta-be kidding me!

Potentially a technicolour nightmare

Something is rotten in the state of Hollywood - 3D film.

Thus far I've found the use of 3D predominantly over-rated and unnecessary: Avatar, Toy Story 3 - mehhhh. Underwhelmed pretty much covers it.

So you can only imagine my utter disgust upon hearing that Baz Luhrmann plans to film his adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby in 3D.

Well, hell hath no fury like a Carlin scorned: "3D?!?" I shrieked, like a tormented soul, descending into the fiery pits of hell.

Being of rational mind (for the most part) I attempted to consider Luhrmann's possible motivation behind this frankly bizarre decision. Perhaps this will allow for increasing audience involvement: to absorb the electric atmosphere of Gatsby's grand soirees, to choke on the moral and social decay of the valley of ashes and drown in those elusive distant green lights at the end of the dock - actually, I'm talking myself into it now.

OR is it pure gimmick; less about intoxicating imagery, more about nauseating sums of cash?

Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of some of Luhrmann's work. His 1996 modern suburban take on Romeo & Juliet brought Shakespeare to generations of people who would've otherwise remained wholly ignorant of his work. High five Baz. And that sunscreen tune was brilliant:




However, since his WOEFUL 2008 homage to his homeland, Australia, I've lost all faith. Particularly upon learning that Luhrmann intends to shoot arguably the greatest American novel of the twentieth century, a text so quintessentially American it reeks of apple pie and revolves around the key theme of the "loss of the American dream" - in SYDNEY !

I may as well give up hope now and file it under "FAIL" along with the other attempts to interpret this classic into a silverscreen masterpiece.

And these aren't the only points of contention I wish to flag up.

Casting is also giving me cause for concern. As I've discussed with friends and tutors alike, Carey Mulligan as Daisy Buchanan I can just about see but Leonardo DiCaprio as Jay Gatsby?
A huge fan of DiCaprio's work, but he ain't no Robert Redford:

smouldering so intense he's been held partially accountable for global warming

"In the words of MTV cribs - this is where the 'magic' happens."

Although, clearly it takes more than dashing to bring this classic to life, as was the case for Jack Clayton's atmospheric but lacklustre 1974 adaptation.

And Tobey Maguire as narrator and protagonist, Nick Carraway? Hmmmmmmmm, the jury's out on that one.

Suggestions welcome, I'm composing a letter to Luhrmann as you read...

HOWL

"The Obscenity Trial That Started a Revolution. The Poem That Rocked a Generation."

One thing missing from this equation? paper

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked...

I love the poetry of Allen Ginsberg for numerous reasons, but the top 3 are:

1. His frank, stark honesty liberated an entire generation of writers.
2. Poems like Howl are written, as the name would suggest, to be exclaimed passionately and vigorously against "the man" (inner angel-headed hipster breaking out there...)
3. The poem America gave me license to use the word FUCK in a final Honours exam. UP YOURS SQA!

Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman's Howl suggests an insightful study of the court case that shook up the boundaries of American literature for generations to follow. And it does so, neatly, concisely and, at times, humorously. 

The 1957 obscenity trial held against Ginsberg's publisher, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, for publishing such "gross, vulgar and offensive" language, highlights precisley what the audience need to know about the trial and not a stitch more.

The reason being that this is without doubt an academic study of Ginsberg himself: his inspirations, anxieties and motivation to write. From the mental illness of his mother and close friend, Carl Solomon, to his unrequited love of fellow Beat writer, Jack Kerouac, and the difficulty he had embracing an openly homosexual life - this tells all. 

But this ain't no linear flashback depiction. The narrative skips between documentary style interviews, animation, courtroom transcriptions and archival footage...yet somehow, quite miraculously, it works creating an engaging insight into an intensely troubled, but open, mind. 

Trippy, dudddeeee

From the hallucinatory animations to the coffee house readings, the poem pulses steadily throughout the film, carrying the story with it, in an almost rhythmic way; moments of poetic darkness are subtley complimented by troubled insight into Ginsberg's motivation to write that particular stanza.

Smart-bespeckled park smuggery - the perfect Autumnal past-time

And who better to play a poet renowned for his frankness - why James Franco, of course! (sorry, that was painful) And he does not fail to impress - his performance is outstanding. Regardless as to your familiarity with Ginsberg's work, he clearly gives a moving and convincing portrayal of a conflicted young writer. For those of you familiar with Ginsberg's style and mannerisms, you will be suitably impressed with Franco's commitment to the role. He does not miss a beat (again, apologies!)

Any excuse for some unashamed Don Draper action

Jon Hamm makes a relatively small, but notable, appearance as Ferlinghetti's defence lawyer in the courtroom scenes, and Jeff Daniels, makes a similar small splash as an amusingly contradictory professor of English Literature.

To an audience with little interest in the "Beat generation" this may appear to be a somewhat self-indulgent ode to an ode, and to them I say perhaps sit this one out.

But to everyone else I say watch, enjoy and prepare to feel impassioned.




"Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness!" Allen Ginsberg

Brighton Rock

"You wanted a recording of my voice, well here it is. What you want me to say is, 'I love you'. Well I don't.  I hate you."

Typical British seaside resort - scorchio!

You know the story: bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks meets good Catholic girl who straightens him out and softens him up, making him a better person and leaving the viewer with a sense of warmth and in adoration of the power of young love...*happy sighs*

Yeaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh, Brighton Rock certainly breaks that mould.

Rowan Joffe's adaptation of Graham Greene's novel is dark, bleak and thoroughly engrossing. Charting the spiralling demise of baby-faced teen gangster Pinkie, this noir adaptation gives a respectful nod to John Boulting's hallowed 1947 film, yet stays truer to the gritty, malevolence of the book. And it's clear from the get-go that things won't be looking up for the troubled soul anytime soon.

We're instantly thrown into the brutal, murky underworld of 1960s Brighton by night: where criminals tussle for power and wealth, and men are discarded like an unwanted half-gnawed stick of rock. By daylight, things aren't much better with the city on the cusp of a youth revolt and the threat of destruction by a generation of Mods and bikers lingering heavily in the salty air.

It quickly becomes apparent that Pinkie's attempts to scramble free of rival and overlord Colleoni's reign is a fruitless endeavour resulting in little more than violence and mutilation, and ultimately for Pinkie: self-destruction.

Pinkie is depicted wonderfully by the brooding Sam Riley, who shot to fame following his critically acclaimed turn as Joy Division frontman Ian Curtis in biopic Control.

"Pass me that goldfish and no-one gets hurt..."

Riley does "troubled soul" with effortless ease. The ability to evoke moments of sympathy for such a dark, malevolant character is no mean feat but Riley does so, convincingly. Thus the audience are drawn to him in the strange, inexplicable way as Rose, his poor, pathetic love interest, played by Andrea Riseborough.

"Extreme kissing": the next big thing in high-octane sports

The real tragedy of this piece is the doomed relationship between Rose and Pinkie. Drawn into events by sheer poor luck, the pitiful Rose becomes embroiled in corrupt events beyond her control, desperate for affection but constantly rejected. She is little more than a pawn in Pinkie's plan and she knows it, although dares not admit it; frustrating both the audience and Pinkie as he struggles to stifle her affections.

There does come a point at which it seems as though there is something more behind those dead, black eyes where it seems Pinkie may admit even a mild desire for her - and it is hinted at - but alas it never comes to pass.

Frustrating, heart-wrenching and utterly absorbing.

The definitive scene that steals the show in this cinematically stylish and violent thriller has to be the final scene with Rose, desperately seeking comfort, listening to the soul-destroying record containing Pinkie's malicious words of hatred to her. The viewer's heart will skip a beat along with the record...

The big names arrive, unimpressed by the lack of fanfare

Supporting cast Helen Mirren, as Ida, and John Hurt, as Phil Corkery, cast an element of jovial light onto this otherwise dark piece. However they are somewhat peripheral against this vast backdrop of violence and disillusionment in a changing time.

Cinematically slick and stylish, Joffe offers a return to classic film noir, with sweeping, vast cliff shots and shady characters skulking in the shadows beneath the salt-sprayed dreary piers. Hand-held camera shots also create the energy and immediacy necessary for the physical, adrenalin filled moments.

Martin Phipp's dark and creeping score intensifies the looming darkness and vein of dread that pulses steadily throughout the film, until the climactic cliff-top finale.

Brighton ain't the same. She's on the move...

The Nitty Gritty

Review: True Grit

This years Eurovision entry went for "gun slingin' chic"

For as long as I can remember my dad's repsonse to the question "what are you looking for?" whilst rummaging in drawers and in cupboards has been *in southern drawl* "I'm lookin' for the man who shot ma paw!"

Makes no sense, doesn't need to (we're THAT kind of family), but this is beside the point - I never once thought to question the origin of this quote.

This evening I found out: True Grit.

The latest offering from genius duo, the Coen brothers, is a remake of the 1969 western hit originally starring John Wayne. The story follows 14-year old no-nonsense Mattie as she sets out to capture her father's killer with the help of sauced up, trigger-happy US Marshal Reuben "the rooster" Cogburn. Also on the trail of the murderous Tom Chaney is Texas ranger, LeBeouf, who joins the unlikely pair on their perilous journey.

The brothers Coen already established themselves as masters of the modern western with 2007 adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's, No Country for Old Men. And true to form, True Grit does not fail to meet the high standards they've set for themselves.

Stylish, gritty, exciting: this film transfixes the audience with a combination of anticipation, pathos and humour. Most of the humour comes from the quick-witted heroine, who's tongue could give more of a lashing than LaBeouf's feeble attempts at a whipping when she gets out of line.

"Wait - what d'ya mean braids ain't in?"

Without doubt the breakout performance from 14-year old Hailee Steinfeld steals the show - and it's not easily done when keeping company with the likes of Jeff Bridges, Matt Damon and Josh Brolin. Steinfeld's stark, frank and cunning approach to what is undoubtedly a "man's business" is admirable, yet the moments upon which she cracks and lets slip a glimmer of the fragile, little girl she really is are the moments which really resonate.

Look up "badass" in the dictionary and find this image

Jeff Bridges gives a strong and strangely endearing performance as Cogburn; achieving the delicate balance of jovial humourous protector and cynical, washed-up drunk. Attempting to fill John Wayne's shoes is no mean feat (see what I did there?) but he certainly pulls it off, making all of those award nominations very much deserved.

MAAAAAATT DAAAMMOOONN 

Almost unrecognisable at first as mouthy Texan ranger, LaBeouf, Matt Damon also hits his mark as the self-righteous and gibbering voice of authority the audience will grow to tolerate and even like, as Mattie and even Cogburn do by the end of the film. The rapid repartee between LaBeouf and Mattie in the first encounter evokes more than a snigger, as he sternly informs her that "a saucy line will not get you far with me." Well, actually, it gets him as far as the climactic end action sequence and I for one am glad, LaBeouf provides laughs in a film I pressumed would have few ("grit" is in the title afterall...)

Overall, an excellent cinematic experience.

If you need more convincing, just watch the theatrical trailer below - I defy anyone not to be a LITTLE bit thrilled when Johnny Cash's "God's Gonna Cut You Down" kicks in.

Gritty.

Sky Smuggery



You know you want it...


Only seems right to follow up on the blog of anticipation re: the birth of Sky Atlantic with a review of the first epic show that I shall be committing many an hour of my tedious little existence to.

BOARDWALK EMPIRE: Episode 1

Greed, corruption, violence, betrayal: what more could you ask of a Tuesday night? Well hows about an all star cast, dazzling costumes and a wealth of acting talent worth it's weight in illegal imports.

If, like me, you enjoy anything to do with the dark, grizzly reality of the elusive "American dream" (think F. Scott Fitzgerald, Hunter S. Thompson, Arthur Miller...) then Boardwalk Empire is most definitely for you.

Not that i HATE Americans or anything, just there's something perversely comforting in seeing the "land of opportunity" being torn down to size. Just me?

Set on the day of prohibition in 1920s Atlantic City, we follow the life of Enoch "Nucky" Thompson, the corrupt city treasurer: politician, criminal and ruler of the boardwalk. The series chronicles his slithery, under-handed movements with everyone from the lowly minions to the highest of society.

The first episode introduces the audience to the wide plethora of corrupt politicians, henchmen and crooks as they attempt to keep the alcohol flowing and the money rolling in uncertain times of change...

"Hands up who was shocked when I went into the wood chipper?"

Steve Buscemi is perfectly cast this role that demands more than just a quick-witted mafioso boss. The complex character Nucky is more than a mere politician or gangster. The same awkward, edginess seen in Fargo and Resevoir Dogs makes him perfect for this role. The emotion he conveys through a solitary look is palpable, and at times he seems almost in fear of his own power. But always with a dignified air of danger, suggesting he should not be crossed. Simply put - this bug-eyed wonder is brilliant.

Trout-pout tweed chic - soooo 1920s

And don't even get me started on baby-faced killer Michael Pitt. A fan of his previous work (Funny Games, The Dreamers, Dawsons Creek LOL) he has an effortless air of quiet danger that makes him perfect for the role of Jimmy, Nucky's troubled protege.


Kelly suddenly remembers Glasgow in February. Chilling.

Kelly MacDonald also impresses in the role of Irish widowed mother, Margaret Schroeder, who turns to Nucky for help. Her fragility and chemistry with Nucky asserts her presence in future episodes, as drama unfolds and relationships form.

Although a creation of the same mind that wrote the Sopranos, this is no regular tale of a violent and corrupt underworld.

Martin Scorsese describes their depiction of Al Capone and Lucky Luciano, who also make appearances, as "toddler gangsters". So obviously I instantly had in mind Bugsy Malone but EVEN CREEPIER with the hideously made up likes of Jodie Foster prancing around in huggies pull ups, threatening each others lives with water pistols and razor sharp rusks...but alas no.

Scorsese, ya auld joker, he just meant they would illustrate a new generation of "gangster" heavy handedly taking the reigns from the more subtle style of "businessmen" who knew how to keep politicians in their pockets and dealing on the down-low.

Unlike my current obsession, Mad Men, it's instantly obvious that there will be little of the polished, non-challant alcholism or jovial sexism: this is gritty, grim glamour and not without dark humour, delivered in the razor-sharp style Buscemi masters.

Brilliant.

Story-telling at its finest.

Let the stories begin...

                        Atlantic City, 1920. When alcohol was outlawed, outlaws became kings

Apparently the original concept derives from Largs...

I write this short blog with one eye on the time as in but 10 minutes a potential rival for my Mad Men obsession is hitting the screens of smug Sky viewers everywhere.

Boardwalk Empire is the hotly anticipated and widely acclaimed new offering from one of the masterminds behind the Sopranos, Terence Winter, and it's about to set imaginations and hearts alight with the promise of as much suave ganster drama and televisual stimulation as you can get from an hour-long episode.

With Martin Scorsese at the directorial helm, and Steve Buscemi in the lead role of Nucky Thompson, this tale of politics and crime on the boardwalks of Atlantic City looks set to enthrall and excite. Hopes are high for sterling performances from supporting actors Michael Pitt and Kelly MacDonald as well.

Will it live up to the Hoffman hype? (those ads really cut to the core of me) I certainly hope so.