Three Day Weekend (Part 2)

Distracted by my housemate's DS Lite and a copy of Brain Training (damn you Dr. Kawashima!!!), the movie viewing took a temporary back seat. Thankfully, after discovering I have the brain age of a 43 year old (what happened? I used to be so youthfully sharp), more movies seemed the ideal escape.

Set against the backdrop of WWI, A Very Long Engagement is a sweeping romantic tale. Reuniting director Jean-Pierre Jeunet with the elfin beauty of Audrey Tautou, it is an exquisitely shot epic bathed in a vivid and varied palette.

In the rain soaked trenches of the Somme, five men are charged with self-mutilation in a bid to escape the fighting. Sent out into no-mans land to die, one of them is Manech (Gaspard Ulliel) the fiancee of young Mathilde (Tautou). Despite the seeming certainty of his fate, when Mathilde hears the news she refuses to believe he is dead and takes it upon herself to discover what has become of the man she loves. Her determination helps to gradually piece together the complex story of the five abandoned men.

The plot moves at a steady well timed pace, focusing on the hope of Mathilde in the face of the absurdities of war. Moments of breakthrough are tempered with seemingly impossible setbacks, and the emotional impact this has on Mathilde is sympathetically portrayed by Tautou. With support from her Aunt and Uncle (Jeunet stalwart Dominique Pinon in heavily bearded guise) and an enthusiastic postman, she never truly gives up on Manech. And while complex, the story comes together beautifully as we eagerly follow Mathilde step by step on her journey.

The scenes in the trenches are shot with a grim reality and plenty of attention to period detail; arguably some of the movies most visually memorable moments. Lighthearted scenes from Mathilde's detective work seem frivolous by comparison. With one or two nods to the style of Amelie present (which is no bad thing) the movie ultimately carries a far greater emotional impact. Given the build up to it, the resolution does seem a little underwhelming. In this case though, the journey is certainly more important than the destination.

Next up, a piece of groovy sixties cinema set in merry old London.

Obtuse and hard to grasp, Blow-Up was a critically acclaimed piece of cinema upon it's release in '66; though this may have had more to do with it's liberal attitudes toward the depiction of sex and nudity on screen. Thomas (David Hemmings) is a somewhat nihilistic and self-important fashion photographer. Bored with the shallow nature of his work, he has taken to photographing the real lives of people in London. It is during such a voyeuristic episode in a local park, that he may have unknowingly captured something far more sinister on film.

The question of subjective reality is at the core of the movie. Obsessively pouring over the park photographs, Thomas builds an elaborate narrative for himself as he focuses on ever more slight details in the captured images. Did the photographer really witness a murder, or is he seeing more than is really there? The aimlessness and distance of the character certainly indicate he may be responsible for constructing the event in question; wanting something more to his shallow life. The closing scene also lends a degree of weight to that hypothesis.

There is plenty of ambiguity to see things anyway you choose, and perhaps that was the ultimate intention; but you can't escape the feeling you are shut out of any deeper meanings the movie might be trying to convey. Like so many of the photographer's actions in the movie, nothing is ever finished. The detective story ultimately goes nowhere, ideas and themes are hinted at but not really expounded upon, and you are left wondering what is really trying to be said. One to puzzle over on a second viewing perhaps, though a little too inaccessible.

Three Day Weekend (Part 1)

Sometimes things inexplicably come together; like a three day weekend, an HMV DVD sale, and pay day... OK, so pay day is still four days away, and the HMV DVD sale will be present in perpetuity to the end of the universe. But you have to grab these things while you can, right? With cold Tiger in plentiful supply and some home cooked Chinese food, the lights dim low on Friday night and the first of the weekend's (hopefully many) movies plays out across the widesreen.

There is a deeply satisfying feeling upon finding a cult classic from your favourite decade that has so far managed to pass you by. Eighties movies really don't come much more culty than the Emilio Estevez starring (no, no... it's good) Repo Man. Directed by Alan Cox, this is a weird mash-up of angry young punks, car repossession men, CIA agents in mirrored shades, UFO freaks, and a glowing Chevy Malibu '64. How the hell did I miss this movie till now?

So the lowdown on the plot: Otto (Estevez) is a young punk who takes on a job as a repo man after stumbling into Harry Dean Stanton's character Bud. Enlightening him to the ways of the repo man code (something about doing speed and getting into intense situations), things hot up as a $20,000 ransom is offered on the first person to reposes a missing Chevy Malibu '64. This leads a host of parties to look for the... shit, none of this really matters. What does is the amount of detail, and memorable moments of cult cinema crammed in to the film. What are the sinister reasons for every car having a pine tree air freshener in it? Why do products come in plain white packaging with "beer" or "food" written on them? (Maybe that's where Tesco got the idea for their value range...) And just what the hell is in the trunk of that car?!?

Perhaps it all has something to do with the Universal subconscious. Whatever the logic behind it, Repo Man is an undeniably cool slice of cult eighties cinema. Anyone fancy a plate o' shrimp?

Next up is a movie featuring Penelope Cruz (and her breasts).

With shades of Philip K. Dick's novel Ubik, Abre Los Ojos (Open Your Eyes) is a delicious Spanish head-fuck of a movie. Inexplicably remade in 2001 as the Tom Cruise vehicle Vanilla Sky (why!?! why remake a brilliant Spanish movie barely 4 years old!?!), it's sad that people are unlikely to be familiar with the original article. If that's the case, do yourself the favour of catching this gripping and inventive movie.

Handsome bloke about town Cesar meets the girl of his dreams, coming in the enchanting shape of Sofia (Cruz), at his birthday party. Despite the fact she is there with his best friend, he wastes no time elbowing in. Sadly he ballses things up after accepting a lift home from his obsessive ex-girlfriend, who promptly crashes the car. Bugger.

Disfigured from the accident, Cesar's life plunges into a delirious mix of dream and reality as he tries to carry on the life he had. Excellent pacing and subtle, powerful performances (especially from Cruz) make this a compelling journey. Sadly the ending doesn't come as the surprise revelation it tries to be, due to some obvious clues left along the way. It remains a satisfying payoff, though a little more ambiguity could have elevated it to the status of a movie to be puzzled over for months to come.

What Does a Scanner see?

Fred (Keanu Reeves) is a narc trying to locate the suppliers of drug Substance-D. Undercover as addict Bob Arctor, Fred's fragile grip on reality slips into paranoia and disorientation when asked to spy upon himself.

Putting Philip K. Dick's masterpiece A Scanner Darkly on screen was never going to be an easy task. A deeply personal novel, it is an honest tackling of the fractured and paranoid nature of drug use. This alone makes it a difficult work to approach, but the added complication of showing a "scramble suit" (a device masking a narc's identity with constantly shifting fragments of other people) on screen also lends it a technical complexity. Thankfully the rotoscoping technique employed by Linklater (pioneered in Waking Life, and improved upon here) is a perfect fit on many levels.

Famed for his slacker credentials, Linklater has assembled a fitting cast for a movie about drug taking. Robert Downey Jr. is particularly excellent, stealing every scene he is in as the manic, motor mouthed Barris. The scenes shared with Arctor, and Luckman (Woody Harrelson) have a natural chemistry that is a joy to watch; thanks in no small part to the many memorable lines of stoner dialogue. It's only the character of Donna, played by Winona Rider, that fails to make much of an impact.

The movie can feel a little disjointed at times, making it difficult to follow. For the first two thirds there is a distinct lack of direction, but a lot of humor and memorable scenes are present. It's once Bob is unknowingly asked (thanks to the scramble suit masking his real identity) to spy on himself, that the sense of deep paranoia sets in and begins to unsettle you. At the point Bob begins talking about himself in the third person, there is a painful awareness that you are witness to the complete mental collapse of the character. It is a saddening realisation, dislodging the stoner humor of earlier scenes. You are left facing the uncomfortable reality of the consequences of the characters decisions.

When the story kicks in during the final half hour, a myriad of philosophical ideas covering free will, God, identity, totalitarianism, and a host of other Dickian staples are rapidly thrown at us. This leaves you with a feeling it is all over too quickly, something at complete odds to the directionless nature of the rest of movie. Though perhaps this is intentional, mirroring the author's views on drug taking. Reading Dick's note to fallen friends before the credits roll is a soul wrenching experience. It firmly reminds us this is a story from someone who experienced it first hand. Any accusation the anti-drugs message conveyed is heavy handed is completely without merit.

Linklater has skillfully handled the adaptation of an important, personal, and complex novel. Arguably giving us the finest cinematic translation of Dick's work to date.

Nacho Libre

From it's opening scenes, the quirkiness of Nacho Libre is immediately apparent. Though what else could the outcome be when Jared Hess (Napoleon Dynamite) casts Jack Black as a reluctant Mexican friar yearning to live the life of a Luchador?

Good natured movies seem an increasingly rare breed these days, so it's always a welcome pleasure when stumbling across one such as this. Odd and a little slow at first, it isn't long before finding yourself warming to the characters on screen. The movie weaves a simple tale of friar Ignacio 'Nacho' Libre, who decides to moonlight as a Lucha Libre wrestler and use the money to give the orphans at his church a better life. It also wouldn't hurt to acquire a little fame, victory, and the affections of Sister Encarnacion (played by the impossibly pretty Ana de la Reguera) along the way. So with scrawny street urchin sidekick Esqueleto in tow, the ring beckons.

The wrestling scenes are a one joke show, with the two loser heroes proving far from fighting fit. Thankfully it's a joke that manages to stay the course of the movie, helped in part by the short runtime. Humor outside the ring is slight (and stilted at times), though good scenes are spread throughout. Nacho and Sister Encarnacion sharing toast in their chambers is an early standout; both funny and sweet in equal measure. While not the out and out comedy painted by the trailer, it certainly has enough moments to keep it in your memory.

Ultimately it's the honesty and innocence of the main characters that makes the movie so likeable. Nacho is endearingly foolish in his quest, and his relationship with Sister Encarnacion is touchingly sweet. All of which perfectly sets the movie's innocent tone. The ending may never really be in doubt, but you'll be rooting for the good guy and leaving the cinema with a smile on your face.

Fried Gold

Hot Fuzz is on it's way! A teaser trailer for the next project from Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead, Spaced) is out there now in cinema land. Looks like they've done it again; successfully bringing cult Brit comedy with a cinematic sensibility to the big screen. Plenty of guns too. Sadly not out till Feb 2007. Will have to sit and wait impatiently till then.

And isn't that what we're all asking, "Where's my elephant?"

Martial arts movies seldom have (nor need) good dialogue; but when the line "Where is my elephant?" crops up with alarming frequency, you know a new precedent has been set. Warrior King can confidently lay claim to setting it.

It's not as good as Ong Bak. There, that's that out the way. Now the good stuff: Tony Jaa is still amazing to watch. Unbelievable acrobatic tricks are back, the obligatory chase sequence, as are the fight scenes that hurt to view. In fact there is shedloads more of it all this time round. Like his first movie, you will end up excitedly talking about your favorite moments with your mates over a pint. But the plot... what the hell happened?

One story tells around 40 minutes were cut in editing to get the movie down to an action audience friendly length. I don't know if that's true, but it's not likely to have been the fight footage that was pruned. Perhaps that's where the plot got to. In a movie like this it shouldn't be a big deal; but after an opening 15 minutes that manages to pack in plenty of Thai culture, the plot just falls apart. What we're left with is a series of action sequences strung together with some loose snippets of story. And it is a shame! Ong Bak was no masterpiece of storytelling, but at least it provided pacing and structure to the action (it was also coherent, something Warrior King's story doesn't always manage).

The biggest mistake though is having Thai actors speak parts of their dialogue in English. I have a great respect for people who can speak more than one language. Unfortunately it just doesn't seem to work. (Personally I'm rubbish at languages. Even when I had a French girlfriend the only thing I managed to learn was "puis-je regler par carte de credit? / can I pay by credit card?". Never say that to a woman.)

I'm being too harsh here. Afterall I did come out having enjoyed the movie. It's easy to talk about the faults in a movie like this; the good bits you'll just have to go and see for yourself, as words seldom do them justice. You'll watch this for the fight scenes, and you'll watch this for Jaa. The one on one encounters take a sideline to impressive group fights (though look out for a fantastic Muay Thai vs Capoeira sequence late in the film). Of these the most stunning is a 4 minute continuous take that sees Jaa work his way up the staircase of a restaurant, floor after floor of bad guys trying to stop him. Amazing stuff.

Silly, enjoyable, and just about forgivable. Warrior King will entertain the martial arts fans no problem. Tony Jaa is a legend. Whatever happens with his next movie, I'll be there to watch it.

Miami Vice

Sunday evening in Kingston, but for two escapist hours I'm deep in the gritty underbelly of night-time Miami.

From the opening frame it's a slick visual treat. Mann, ever the accomplished director, feeding us layers of widescreen attention to detail. Everything looks cool. The people, the suits, sports cars and speedboats, purple night skies, and cold neon glows. Miami Vice is stunning to watch. It should be easy to write this movie off as style over substance. However it's so well composed, and gives us so much to look at, there is a feeling of depth to what should otherwise be shallow proceedings. Grainy digital camerawork, and handheld close-ups help lend a reality and grittiness to this most unreal world of surface perfection.

A workman-like plot, both solid and predictable, takes us through the familiar cliches. Cops Crockett and Tubbs going it alone undercover to bust a drugs ring, the partner falling for the bad guys girl, clashing with their superiors, and a final shoot out. Nothing here should surprise you. There is a distinct lack of complexity in the film's plot, which ends up more a weakness than a strength.

It can at times be difficult to follow though; with functional dialogue spoken mostly in a low murmur. A few cool lines from Farrell and Foxx pepper the proceedings, but it's not the most memorable of stuff. You certainly won't come out quoting this to your friends. Oddly this seems to fit the mood and style of the movie pretty well. Visuals aside, it's a somewhat low-key affair.

The movie never really grabs hold the way you expect a crime thriller should; but you're happy to be there, watching these characters do what they do. A feeling helped by a handful of excellent set pieces, most notable of which is the final shoot out. That same night-time grain that permeates the movie, coupled with handheld pov shots alongside the participants guns. I can't easily recall a cliched setup being shot in such an engaging way before.

Ending as abruptly as it began, I wanted to stay with these characters longer. Miami Vice feels like a slice of life from a much larger world. In the back of your mind though, you know there would be little depth under that perfectly stylized and detailed surface to sustain such continued escapism.