review - Rob, Rambling

16.03.10
13:55:49 - Comments (View)

I watched that Men Who Stare At Goats film over the weekend, and was thoroughly impressed. It is such a surreal, funny film, and I thought there were some great performances from George Clooney and Jeff Bridges.

It basically details a journalist discovering a secret army unit that used psychic powers instead of weapons, and then heading into Iraq with an ex-soldier to find them once more. It sounds like it could be deadly serious, but it’s played for laughs instead of drama.

Not to say that it’s in-your-face slapstick, but more of a subtle, situational humour. Clooney really does excel in this kind of role, playing the straight man with ever more silly words and actions. Bridges is the hippy leader of the unit, preaching free love and a whole lot of drugs, performing at exactly the right level of lackadaisical manner.

Ewan McGregor is probably the weakest of the lot, for me because of his slight inability to master an American accent. Too often when he is shouting or speaking quickly (which is a lot of the time) it slips back into a Scottish brogue. He’s still competent enough as the journalist out of his depth.

It is all a bit silly, but the strength of the acting in particular holds it all together. It hits just the right level of funny without becoming crass or too overdone, and is a damned good film.

01.03.10
23:37:00 - Comments (View)

text, tldr, films, review, art, banksy, rambling, spoilers,

I went to see the Banksy film ‘Exit Through The Gift Shop’ last Thursday, in one of the most random locations (OK, the most) that I’ve ever watched a film in. It was in the tunnels underneath Waterloo station, halfway along a longer tunnel that was utterly covered in graffiti and through a non-descript door. Handily, a red carpet was painted onto the floor to guide you in…

There were a couple of pieces of art in the foyer bit, as well as a distorted ice-cream van selling the drinks and snacks. One bottle of red wine for two, cheers!

The cinema section was in one of the tunnels, with some raised seating, I guess for a total of about 130 people for each screening. It reminded me so much of some of the venues I went to over the last two summers in Edinburgh, where they convert just about every single space into a theatre or performance area.

It was a bit more professional that that, with banked (comfortable) seating, but every few minutes you could hear the rumble of trains overhead. It probably didn’t help that we were towards the back and thus close to the roof.

The venue was like this because it was a special preview event ahead of an eventual wider release in normal cinemas. As such, it seemed to be pretty dedicated Banksy fans in attendance, and a few journalists, who were making notes around me.

Anyways, the film: I was impressed, but not overwhelmed. The film is definitely in two parts, and the first one is the stronger by a long, long way.

First thing’s first: this film will not tell you who Banksy is. He’s on screen, but you don’t see his face, and his identity isn’t revealed at all. His voice is distorted, although the strong accent comes through. He’s constantly shot in the dark, almost in silhouette, and any other footage of him has his face blurred out.

Hell, I think the talking head/interview parts with him are probably a fake anyway, just Banksy messing with us once more.

Instead of Banksy, the film concentrates on a French guy called Thierry, who lives in Los Angeles, and videos absolutely everything around him. He eventually gets involved with the street art scene, and accompanies loads of different artists as they go out in the dead of night to put their art up on buildings, walls, roads, and whatnot.

Most of this footage is from the early ’00s, when people like Shepard Fairey (he of the Obama poster fame) were big on the scene, and being French he had good access to a guy called Invader, who does those Space Invader mosaics everywhere. But what Thierry really wanted was to get Banksy.

Without spoiling anything, of course he gets to meet him, and eventually gets accepted into Banksy’s inner circle, documenting his preparations and installations. This includes works in London, and then a load more in Los Angeles, culminating in Banksy’s big show there a few years ago.

One amusing aside: Banksy’s utter refusal to pronounce Thierry’s name in anything other than the classically English style of “Terry”. Very funny.

This is all within the first half of the film, and is definitely the most interesting. The artists themselves are engaging, and Thierry is utterly mesmerising, if a little mad. It’s great to hear him talk with such enthusiasm about the artists and their methods, and how he loved to just tag along (ha, “tag”!) with them on their escapades.

You’re not watching Thierry’s documentary (believe me, you don’t want to), but it is a pretty solid overview of the street art scene over the last decade, culminating in its crossover to the mainstream. I was thoroughly impressed.

Where things start to unravel though, is the second half. Cue the:

SPOILER ALERT!!! SPOILER ALERT!!! SPOILER ALERT!!! SPOILER ALERT!!! SPOILER ALERT!!!

I can’t really think of how to say why the second half is weaker without spoiling the plot somewhat. Yes, there is a plot, even though it’s a documentary. Dare I say mockumentary? Anyways, spoilers from here on out.

After making his (frankly terrible) film, and showing it to Banksy, Thierry starts to believe that he can become an artist in his own right, rather than just the documenter of it all. Starting small, with stickersof a stylised icon of himself, in the style of Shepard Fairey, he quickly graduates to much larger posters, and from there it’s onwards and upwards.

But rather than spending years and years on the streets, Thierry wants to jump straight to a huge installation and gallery, just like Banksy’s LA show. The documentary thus moves to following him, rather than vice-versa.

Becoming ever more megalomaniac, and believing in his own hype, somehow Thierry (now calling himself Mr Brainwash) manages to get LA Weekly to cover the opening of his show and build the anticipation.

Whilst still in preparation for the show, art buyers are calling him to pre-purchase, and he just plucks numbers out of the air ($18,000, $30,000) for each piece. Oh, and these pieces are pretty much factory-produced by a relative army of assistants.

What’s amazing about the art, is just how much of a rip-off of all these other street artists it is. Banksy, Fairey, and loads of others all comment on this during the documentary, and it really isn’t even derivative. It’s just the same fucking stuff.

Anyways, the hype machine rolls on, and soon there are huge queues ahead of the show’s opening. We then see loads of mini-interviews with attendees, saying that Mr Brainwash is amazing, the next best thing in art, and ya’know like totally original in what he’s saying about he world around us.

The film closes with Banksy bemoaning the fact that he’s created a monster, amazed at how Mr Brainwash can be so feted without any talent at all. He says that this caused him to make this film, from Thierry’s footage.

What I was left with, however, was the distinct sensation that it’s all one big joke, Mr Brainwash. Thierry only starts making art after he’s come into contact with Banksy, and got into his inner circle.

I left the cinema thinking that Mr Brainwash was a long-term project by Banksy, acting through the proxy of Thierry to show how the art world can be utterly vapid and a slave to publicity. This makes the whole second half of the film a mockumentary of sorts, as I mentioned above.

You can see how he’s picked out the gallery attendees who have said the most nonsensical things to camera, and have utterly bought into the hype. Banksy is mocking these people, is mocking the art establishment for paying such ridiculous sums for art, whoever it is by.

I appreciate what he’s trying to do, but it just didn’t grab me as much as the first half, the true documentary, did. That was genuinely interesting, with great characters and settings. The second half left a bad taste in the mouth regarding Thierry’s change in personality. Originally, he was a bumbling, clumsy, excitable, idiot, but by the end of the film he was just another art twat.

It wasn’t a journey that I particularly enjoyed.

END OF SPOILERS. END OF SPOILERS. END OF SPOILERS.

Overall, the film was worth seeing, if only for the first half and all of the behind-the-scenes looks at the street art field. The methods these artists employ to get their pieces out there, and some of the daring-do to get up on roofs and out of windows, are a joy to behold, as is Thierry’s incessant use of the question “Why?”.

If you subscribe to the idea of the art world being a bit pretentious and pointless, you’ll like the sentiment behind the second half of the film too. I do agree with it, but can’t help but feel that it could’ve been done better.

Go see it, it’s a solid film and a bit of a different documentary from the norm. Is it stunning? No, but it is good.

Just be glad this wasn’t Thierry’s original film, is all I’ll say.

10.02.10
14:19:00 - Comments (View)

photo, venice, gondola, holiday, review, girlfriend,

6 notes

So yep, I was in Venice this weekend with the girlfriend, for a little bit of culture and a chance to get out of London for a few days.

It was the start of Carnival whilst we were there, which is the 40-day build-up to Easter that is celebrated across much of Europe. In Venice, this means dressing up in masks and costumes, and you couldn’t move for masks and medieval dress. It was a riot of colour, and really good fun. I’ve got some video which I’ll put up soon.

Apart from that, we did the usual touristy stuff, of which I was most impressed by the Doge’s Palace, where the ruler of Venice used to live for many centuries. It was an incredible building, with an utterly ridiculous collection of art inside. All of the rooms are pretty much covered in pieces by Titian and others, and the sheer scale of some of the paintings needs to be seen to be believed.

On the Sunday, we finally got some good weather, and had a little gondola ride along the Grand Canal and a few back-canals. It was blissfully relaxing, and our boatman was really well-informed and entertaining. I’m pretty sure the girlfriend was itching to do a gondola ride, despite saying earlier in the week that she wasn’t fussed…

One thing that struck me about the city, especially when you got away from St Mark’s Square and the Rialto Bridge, is how quiet it is. Living in London, I just don’t notice traffic noise any more, but its absence in the middle of Venice is really quite remarkable.

Despite this relative silence, you can still tell that the city is buzzing, alive with people and happenings. I loved just getting lost in the narrow alleyways, aimlessly wandering from one place to the next and just being amazed that the city actually functions/survives.

I highly recommend staying on the Lido, because it’s actually really quick to get into the city from there, and a hell of a lot cheaper. Plus you have the waterbus ride across the lagoon a couple of times a day, which is a fantastic view.

09.02.10
12:55:00 - Comments (View)

photo, music, live music, rammstein, gig, review,

Yes, that is a man playing a guitar on stage, whilst breathing out a huge plume of FIRE!!!

Needless to say, Rammstein absolutely fucking rocked last Thursday night. It was an amazing gig, and the sheer spectacle of it all was incredible. I’d been looking forward to it for months, and it didn’t disappoint.

Support act Combichrist played to a half-empty arena, but I was thoroughly impressed at the power of their performance. With two percussionists, the beats just don’t stop, which reminded me of Slipknot, and the singer has some serious stage presence. Being sat to the side of the stage, it amused me how often one poor roadie had to keep rushing onto stage to repair the drummer’s, erm, drum set as he kicked it apart.

And then it was time for Rammstein…

There was a bit of a Spinal Tap start to the show, with the two guitarists breaking out of a back-lit screen, but from there it was pretty much just relentless noise and power. Songs-wise, most of the songs were from the new album, ‘Liebe ist fur Alle da’, but there were some classics thrown in for good measure.

The first few songs didn’t really feature too much in the way of a stage show, but once ‘Feuer Frei’ started, it all kicked off. The photo above is from that song, during which the two guitarists and the singer each had flamethrower mouthpieces strapped to their heads. Even sitting quite a distance away, the heat was incredible. God knows what it’s like on stage or right in the front row.

I quite liked the little mid-set slowdown, which gave everyone a chance to get their energy back ahead of a frenetic second-half. Rammstein do have some very good acoustic numbers, despite being famed for the pounding noise that takes up most of their back catalogue.

The second half of the show was a lot more pyro-maniac, with fire, fireworks, explosions, flares and all manner of craziness.

During ‘Pussy’ (sample lyrics: “You’ve got a pussy / I’ve got a dick / So what’s the problem?!”), the singer climbed onto a huge pink cannon and sprayed the crowd with white foam for a few minutes. And in the closing song, ‘Engel’, he donned a pair of epic metallic angel wings which spouted fire from their tips.

Never let it be said that Rammstein go for any kind of subtlety in their stage shows…

The closing few songs were generally their well-known hits that really got the crowd pumped up, and right as I leaned over to my mate to say that they hadn’t played my favourite song ‘Ich Will’ yet, the opening bars of it kicked in. I’ve wanted to see that song live for so long, and it was perfect. I’ve chills down my spine just remembering it.

I’ve got to leave the final word to the mate I went with, who said that it was like no other live music he’s ever seen. And it’s true, it really stands alone as a performance, as an event. Musically, it’s incredible, but with all of the visual drama and theatre, it’s simply outstanding.

There’s another great review here, with a few more photos.

25.01.10
23:05:31 - Comments (View)

picture, books, review, tldr, columbine, history, violence, psychology, media,

5 notes

Columbine, by Dave Cullen, is the defining narrative of what happened on April 20, 1999 in that school, the events leading up to it, and the aftermath. It is stunning in what it achieves, both in terms of the detail in which it delves into the events and the people, and in terms of the thoroughness of the research.

Cullen starts with a second-by-second, shot-by-shot walkthrough of the day itself, then jumps back and forwards in time to show how the killers developed their plan (and there was a plan), and then the police investigated the massacre.

Relying on the huge volume of documentation amassed by the police investigation, extensive interviews with the survivors, investigators and just about anyone connected with the shooting, and most dramatically using Harris and Klebold’s own words from their journals and videos, Cullen is able to reconstruct the entire sequence of events.

He does so in a clinical, unemotional way, but not so distant from the subject as to appear cold and disconnected. Indeed, it’s pretty easy to spot which people he feels the most sympathy for, usually those he has interviewed over and over again in the decade since the shooting. Sometimes he gets a bit too close to these people, and I couldn’t help but feel that they were given a touch too sentimental a going-over, but that’s a minor gripe.

Perhaps the most important part of the book is the debunking of the most commonly held myths surrounding Columbine, and particularly the killers’ motives. They weren’t Nazi-sympathisers, they weren’t outcasts, they weren’t bullied, they weren’t Jock-haters, they weren’t gay, they weren’t part of ‘The Trenchcoat Mafia’, they weren’t Marilyn Manson fans, and they weren’t warped by violent films and video games.

Cullen perhaps lets his mask slip a little when calling out the media for jumping to such conclusions and repeating them ad infinitum until we can no longer think of Columbine without the above mistruths clouding our judgement. He explains why this occurred, but criticises the media for failing to correct themselves as quickly as they spread the rumours.

There was no single cause, nothing on which to hang blame for the massacre, other than the killers themselves. Harris and Klebold, particularly Harris, were fucked up. For want of a better way of describing it, they were born evil. Harris was probably a psychopath, in the clinical sense, and Klebold’s depression manifested itself in fits of rage.

Cullen strains to make the point that the parents aren’t to blame, and nor is anything else. He fully subscribes to the idea that some people are mentally ill in this manner, and some of those people act on their psychopathic impulses with horrifying results.

And the horrors at Columbine could’ve been worse. A lot worse.

I was completely unaware that the entire plan was to blow up the school, and everyone inside it. The guns were to shoot those fleeing the burning building. There were even extra bombs timed to go off in the car park when the police and media arrived.

It was only through the (relative) ineptitude of Harris and Klebold’s bomb-making skills that no more than the 13 died. The plan was to make McVeigh’s exploits look mild in comparison.

And the killing was designed to be indiscriminate. Harris just wanted to kill humans, no matter who they were. They didn’t target jocks, the religious or anyone else. They only targeted everyone.

As Cullen points out, “of course, Eric would enjoy killing jocks, too, along with niggers, spics, fags, and every other group he railed against.” This is probably the most disturbing aspect of the book, that someone can wish death upon every single other person on the planet.

The investigators and the media wanted to leap upon a why for the massacre, but for many years this couldn’t be provided. So many other theories were put forward, as listed above. Maybe the fact that it was indiscriminate killing was too horrifying a theory to put in print, to put into the public consciousness.

Because if it’s indiscriminate, how can we protect against it? That’s a real fear for many people.

I think we forget just how much this event, this massacre, changed society. Yes, something like 9/11 changed air travel and international relations forever, but Columbine created a complete distrust of the younger generation, which has yet to fade. Parents and the elder generation actively fear the young, the teenagers, nowadays.

But if this book does nothing else, it says that you can’t fear a generation, no more than you can fear a race, a kinsfolk, a religion. Certain people are just fucked up, and as much as we try to help them, or to protect against their impact, we can’t do so 100%.

The survivors whose stories are detailed in this book are its saving grace, in terms of a positive message. Almost every single one has grown beyond the effects of the shooting, and not it let define their lives. It brings a tear to your eye to read passages describing someone learning to talk, to walk, to feel again, but they do it.

They do it because they must, because they won’t let the actions of a mad-man dictate their lives for them.

Some do fall into the trap of letting it rule them. One father who lost his son has become a relentless campaigner for not forgiving, for not forgetting, and for pretty much seeking vengeance. His story is sad, to be honest, because he’s lost some of his humanity.

I can’t begin to fully describe the detail that this book goes into, as it is exhaustive. Journals are laid bare, videos are transcribed, police reports are pored over. I doubt that any line in the book hasn’t been fact-checked a hundred times over, and it’s this level of research that gives it its authority.

This is how every single-subject book should be: scholarly, yet journalistic. Detached, yet so vivid in its descriptions and eye for detail that you’re practically inside the heads of each person on the page.

It’s beautiful, but horrifying.

13:03:00 - Comments (View)

picture, films, review, tarantino, hero worship, history, war,

5 notes

I finally got round to watching Inglourious Basterds yesterday, and it’s a little surprising that it took me so long to do so, given that I’m a huge fan of Tarantino’s work.

Unsurprisingly, Basterds was tremendous. It was witty, violent, intelligent, well-acted and beautifully shot. It had Tarantino trademarks, both visually and in the dialogue, but it also fits nicely within the WWII genre, although with a modern flourish.

The story starts off pretty simply: Brad Pitt’s character leads a team of Jewish American soldiers in Nazi-occupied France, aiming to spread fear by killing as many Nazis as they can in horrific ways. From there, various subplots and twists lead towards a grand finale in Paris, which is a fantastic set-piece.

As ever with a Tarantino film, the plot is sometimes secondary to the dialogue and character interaction. Basterds is very, very talky, and usually not in English. According to the IMDB, only 30% of the dialogue is in English, with French and German the dominant languages. I found it quite amusing to see how the German dialogue was translated in the subtitles, because they’re often saying something subtly different from the translation, resulting in a few untranslated jokes and lines.

Tarantino shows that he is a master of dialogue in whichever language is being used, alternately ratcheting up the tension and providing comic moments. He has a gift for knowing exactly how to set the mood of a scene, and when to turn that scene on its head.

The acting is solid too. I loved Brad Pitt’s ridiculous character, especially in the cinema foyer towards the end of the film. The man has incredible comic timing, but also nails the apathetic, Nazi-hating nature of his character. And that accent? Woah!

The two high-ranking German officers are menacing, clinical, and genuinely scary, as you would expect. Yes, a little bit of a caricature, but then in this film many characters are. Landa in particular is a great example of quiet, psychopathic authority, and someone who you just wouldn’t fuck with.

The rest of the support cast are solid, and I liked BJ Novak’s cameo which comes to the fore towards the end of the film. Daniel Bruhl cements his status as probably the best young German actor around, and Til Schweiger is criminally under-used.

It really is a great film, highly worth seeing. A lot of criticism was directed towards Tarantino after his part of Grindhouse, which I loved, for being a film about essentially nothing, about dialogue more than plot. Basterds has an absolutely rock-solid plot, and it feels as if not a single word is wasted at any point, despite the dialogue being strong and lengthy. It’s all necessary, which some of Grindhouse wasn’t.

Tarantino at his very best? Absolutely.

18.01.10
23:57:00 - Comments (View)

text, tv, review, the wire,

6 notes

Just watched the final episode of The Wire. Epic. Absolutely epic. I can’t think of a single thread left undone, and the final montage was a delight.

I fully intend to write reams and reams about this show pretty soon, but suffice it to say that all day at work tomorrow I will be reading fan-sites, trivia, and everything else I can get my hands on about the show.

I refrained from doing so over the last few months, just in case I got even the merest hint of a spoiler, but now I can do so without a care in the world. No doubt there are a 1,001 things that I missed, especially foreshadowing and what-not, and it’s going to be interesting to think back to the early series and how certain things eventually panned out.

The only problem is deciding what to watch next.

15.01.10
00:08:00 - Comments (View)

text, tldr, films, review, hero worship, zimbabwe, africa, racism, human condition,

1 note

It may only be the 14th of January in 2010, but I think I’ve just seen the best film of the decade. If I see another film that is better than this in the near future, I will be amazed.

‘Mugabe And The White African’ is a documentary following one white farming family as they try to take the Mugabe government to an international court to dispute the legality of the Zimbabwean land-grab programme of the last 10-15 years.

Whilst Mugabe and the farmer never meet face to face, Mugabe’s influence is felt heavily in their everyday life, from intimidation tactics by his war veterans to delaying tactics in court by his lawyers. The documentary uses voiceover excerpts from Mugabe’s speeches over the years to illustrate the sheer power that the man wields in the country.

Shot covertly and under major threat of being discovered, this truly is a harrowing tale of how a country can be absolutely destroyed by the megalomaniac tendencies of just one man.

I’m usually not one for hyperbole when it comes to reviewing and describing films, books, TV shows and the like, but this film is genuinely the best thing I’ve seen in many, many years. I’ve not felt an emotional connection to a film like this before, and I spent at least the whole final third with tears in my eyes and running down my cheeks.

It’s a film about bravery, about stoicism in the face of absolutely soul-crushing hatred, and about being prepared to sacrifice everything in order to fight the good fight. It’s also a film about family, about love and about love for one’s homeland.

Whilst I’ve learnt a lot about Zimbabwe over the last few years from the girlfriend and from getting interested in the subject, this film really did open my eyes to the levels of racism and strife that are being fermented in the country. The racism is something else, and for someone who has grown up in a multi-cultural society and doesn’t have a racist bone in his body, it is horrifying.

It genuinely blows my mind that people can base any kind of decision purely on someone’s skin colour, but Mugabe and his supporters have done just that for over 30 years. The white farmer(s) in the title aren’t old-school colonialists; they’re all born and bred Zimbabweans, trying to work a farm in the country.

They employ and support a community of over 500 people, and it’s the effect on these kinds of people that the land-grab scheme just does not think about. The land is given to some friend of the government, and then left to ruin. Not only are the white family forcibly evicted and basically kicked out of the country, but their employees and their families are left to ruin.

The whole (tiny) cinema was sniffing and crying throughout, with some scenes truly disturbing and heartbreaking, but necessary. It doesn’t pull any punches, but at the same time it doesn’t dwell on the negatives more than it has to.

If it is on anywhere near you, track it down and go see it. Get the DVD, download it, watch it on TV. This is an important film, one which truly displays the lowest lows and highest highs of human nature.

I could go on about this film for many more paragraphs, such an impact has it had on me. I’m still seeing the faces in front of me, hearing their voices and living their story.

This film needs to be seen. It needs a bigger audience and it deserves one.

21.12.09
22:48:40 - Comments (View)

text, list, films, review, tldr, best of, noughties,

2 notes

Well, it’s that time of the ~~year~~ decade: best of lists are ten a penny, endlessly discussed and criticised. By their very nature, they are subjective in the extreme, and also limited by what that person/group has actually seen, heard and read.

Nevertheless, in no particular order, here are my favourite films of the noughties. In compiling this list, I’ve realised that I watched a lot of films this decade, and I’ve watched a lot of good films in that time. Whittling this list down has been difficult, but I’ve tried to really pick the ones that have stayed in my memory for years since I first saw them, and/or have stood up to repeated viewings.

There are some obvious choices, but also some not-so-obvious films too. My tastes range from fairly juvenile comedy to heavier, wordy dramas, and via most places in between. As I said, it’s a hugely subjective list, but in no particular order:

Anchorman: Probably the funniest film of the decade. Ferrell and the ‘Frat Pack’ at their peak.
Battle Royale: Ultra-violent, yes. Powerful message, definitely.
Infernal Affairs: So much better than the Hollywood remake, The Departed.
Elephant: Exquisitely crafted, and gloriously understated.
City Of God: A fine exploration of how paths differ from the same background within Brazil’s slums.
Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind: Sci-fi taking on relationships, with Jim Carrey’s best performance of the decade.
Closer: The rise and fall of interweaving relationships, really capturing human interaction, and how we can be so cruel to one another.
Zoolander: Effortlessly funny, camp as fuck and absolutely hilarious.
No Country For Old Men: An action film with brains and insight.
Shaun Of The Dead: Invented a new genre: zom-com. Britain’s funniest moments on screen.
Sin City: Hyper-stylised, hyper-violent, with a great ensemble cast.
All Or Nothing: A melancholy study of a British family, coming apart at the seams but somehow holding together. Massively under-rated.
Vexille: A random little CGI-anime vision of the future in Japan.
The Lord Of The Rings Trilogy: Does this even need an explanation? Epic in every sense of the word.
Mulholland Drive: Twisty, turny, suspenseful, gorgeously shot with one of the best scores I can think of.
28 Days Later: The other side of British zombie films: bloodthirsty and rampaging. Worth it for the shots of a deserted London.
Bowling For Columbine: One of the most important films of the decade, a documentary with a shot aimed squarely at America’s right.
Solaris: Slow-burner that is stunning visually and has some great performances.
The Grudge (Japanese original version): Scared the living crap out of me for days afterwards.
Kill Bill Vols 1 and 2: Tarantino’s peak, and Uma Thurman at her best too.
Thirteen: What does it mean to be a teenager nowadays? Again, under-rated.
Timecode: Experimental cinema that also works in terms of the stories shown on the four screens.
District 9: 2009’s best film, for my money. Apartheid in a truly xenophobic setting.
Dear Frankie: A single mother’s lies to her young deaf son are in danger of being found out. Moving, and brought tears to my eyes.
Der Untergang (Downfall): I’ve never heard a cinema so quiet as at the end of this film.
Night Watch: Matrix-inspired Russian vampires and fantasy in a techno-action-thriller.
Team America: World Police: Puppets featuring in the hardest-hitting satire of the decade.
Good Night, And Good Luck: A history lesson in celluloid form.
Superbad: I laughed constantly throughout this film, even on the fifth viewing. Ridiculously funny.
In The Loop: British politics and spin satirised ruthlessly, and you have to feel quite accurately too.
Avatar: A massive technical leap forwards, even if the plot was a touch weak.
Waiting: Practically ignored low-budget comedy that had one of Ryan Reynolds’ best outings.
Death In Gaza: An absolutely haunting end to a documentary about Gaza.

Of these, I’d say that the ones that really stand out as my favourites are Battle Royale, LOTR, Anchorman, Der Untergang, and All Or Nothing.

17:13:32 - Comments (View)

link, films, review, avatar,

26 notes

Excellent review of Avatar...

…by leitch

Sums it up a lot more eloquently than I did. To wit:

I might look back at Avatar in 20 years and, as the technology evolves, see through a lot of its tricks. That doesn’t mean, however, that I won’t always remember what it meant to see it for the first time, to see what the future might hold, to feel like, no matter how many movies you see, you can always be amazed, you can always go back to that first experience, again, and ever. My jaw is still on the floor.

Reblogged from: leitch
Originally posted on: The Will Leitch Experience

Rob, Rambling - A lot of things interest me...

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