Category Archives: Film

Here’s the link to a piece from Casual Parking.
http://casualparking.blogspot.co.nz/2010/11/jackson-beaten-to-punch-on-dam-busters.html

I thought it may be interesting to have a brief look at the history of British crime films and pick a few to discuss. In the last 15 or so years there’s been an emergence of the British Gangster Film, strictly, a sub-genre of the crime film. The way was paved by ‘Get Carter’ (1971) and ‘The Long Good Friday’ (1980) for a niche to be carved out by Guy Ritchie with ‘Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels’ (1998) and ‘Snatch’ (2000). These were quickly followed by such brilliant additions to the genre as ‘Sexy Beast’ (2000) and ‘Layer Cake’ (2004)

But in London during my early teens, most crime films were of American origin and the replays on the television were mostly James Cagney, Humphrey Bogart and Edward G Robinson vehicles from the 40s. There were, though, the B-features that frequently played prior to the main feature at the local flea-pit. There were the ‘Edgar Wallace Mysteries’ and the ‘Scotland Yard’ series – which was introduced by Edgar Lustgarten. These were cheap, black and white films that lasted 30 or 40 minutes. But their style and characterisations had a major influence on more ambitious projects during the 60s.

‘The Frightened City’ (1961) stars the young Sean Connery as an ambitious burglar who gets mixed up in extortion, protection and the turf wars of London’s West End. The black and white images are stark and reflect the corrupt and violent nature of the film’s criminal protagonists. It’s certainly not a great film but it does resonate with the influence of the emerging new wave, Melville’s ‘Bob Le Flambeur‘ comes to mind, as well as providing an implicit commentary on the less wholesome aspects of emerging post-war prosperity. (Trivia hounds may be interested to learn that the theme music for this movie was successfully recorded by The Shadows, as was the theme music to the Edgar Wallace series – ‘Man of Mystery’)

Some 14 years earlier in 1947, the most popular film in Britain was ‘Brighton Rock’. Based on Graham Greene’s novel and starring a youthful Richard Attenborough, the plot is centred around a criminal gang and their psychotic leader, Pinky (Attenborough). Although Greene’s familiar themes of good and evil, hypocrisy and the irony of redemption are present, the Boulting Brothers’ direction and Terrence Rattigan’s script peel back the layers of  between the wars Brighton, to observe the criminal underbelly beneath an effete facade. (The film was remade in 2010 by Rowan Joffe but with the action set during the Mods and Rockers battles of 1964.) And yes, that’s the very first Dr Who, William Hartnell, doing the threatening in the publicity still above.

Although an American production, Jules Dassin’s film noir, ‘Night and the City’ (1950) was filmed on location in London and the city’s streets and characters entitle the film to a ‘British’ tag. This was Dassin’s first film in exile from Hollywood in the wake of the communist witch-hunts. The unremittingly bleak storyline, unsympathetic characters and savage finale are most likely a reflection of Dassin’s feelings at that time. Nevertheless, the film is now considered a masterpiece – and along with his ‘The Naked City’ (1948) and ‘Rififi’ (1955) entitles Dassin to be considered one of the greats.

Connery again, completely cast against type as Johnson – a detective under pressure who beats a suspect to death whilst questioning him. ‘The Offence’ (1972) is a film by Sidney Lumet and evidences that director’s reputation as an auteur. What’s being examined here is the ambivalence of police work – a theme that Lumet would explore further in ‘Serpico‘, ‘Prince of the City’ and ‘Q&A’.

I watched this film again recently and Lumet’s direction of the two protagonists, Connery and Ian Bannen, is flawless. As the narrative intensifies, these two men, on opposing sides of the law, become increasingly indistinguishable. Ultimately, Johnson’s quest for truth brings forth a malignant guilt in himself. There is no redemption.  Connery made this film ‘under sufferance’ from United Artists who agreed to allow him to do it as part of the deal for him to return to the Bond franchise in ‘Diamonds are Forever’. It was a box office failure when released and has only recently been given a DVD release. I urge you  to see it.

‘The Ladykillers’ (1955) is a black comedy directed by Alexander Mackendrick and starring Alec Guinness. The film provides an early role for Peter Sellers and also features the ubiquitous Herbert Lom, who specialised in crime lords and shady types. Guinness plays a sort of faux criminal mastermind who, together with his gang of incompetent robbers, is completely undone by a little old lady (Katie Johnson) whose house they lodge in whilst planning their dastardly crimes.
This is a sly movie and manages to carry off a good many public monuments and established stereotypes whilst allowing Guinness to display his comic talents –  as his character, Professor Marcus, gradually morphs into that great staple of British film comedy, Alastair Sim. (St Trinians, The Green Man, School for Scoundrels)

A Note From The Author
I will write about the more recent plethora of British Gangster Films shortly – but I thought readers may enjoy looking back at some of the templates for these more recent movies.

In between posting Part I and preparing this, I was thinking about a couple of well-publicised massive bombs from Hollywood’s past.

‘Ishtar’ (1987) starred Dustin Hoffman and Warren Beatty and lost Columbia millions of dollars. I’ve never seen it and so cannot comment here – but I see a few respected critics thought very highly of it although the majority panned it. Certainly, given director Elaine May’s fine track record, the film’s failure is surprising.

‘Heaven’s Gate’ (1980) is Michael Cimino’s account of the Johnson County War in 1890s Wyoming.. It lost in excess of US$40 million, finished off United Artists and ruined Cimino’s reputation. I have seen the movie twice. It is very boring for much of its two and a half hours duration but there are moments of great beauty and refinement too. For this reason – and because Cimino did give us ‘The Deer Hunter’ – I will not include it here.

On with the list:

Alexander (2004)

Alexander  is Oliver Stone’s bete noir. He’s had several cracks at re-editing, with the inevitable ‘final cut’ being his definitive view of the Greek conqueror. Whichever version you see, it’s a clumsy, boring mess. Compromised by the emotional distance from its subject and made suspect by its historical crazy paving, Ptolemy’s narration only serves as a further irritant to the already nettled film-goer. The hopelessly miscast Colin Farrell’s Venice Beach Alexander, too, seems utterly lost in this confused and confusing debacle. A shocker.

The Bodyguard (1992)

Let’s get to it. The leads, Kevin Costner and Whitney Houston, deliver some of the worst acting in the history of cinema. Whether or not that’s director Mick Jackson’s fault, or whether Lawrence Kasdan’s clunker of a script induced narcolepsy in the cast – or whether Costner and Houston were too bound up in themselves, it doesn’t really matter. Nothing, I mean nothing, comes off the screen. Not a spark. It is like watching Pac-Man try to mate with the cursor. And, oh yeah, Kevin sports yet another bad haircut.

On Deadly Ground (1994)

Co-produced, directed by and starring the king of smirking gits, Steven Seagal, this vanity piece is a slimy, oafish affront to the sensibilities.( One of my most cherished cinema memories involves Seagal. At the Embassy, a few years back with Josh, we were watching ‘Executive Decision’. Seagal plays a Special Forces type who’s trying to get aboard a hijacked plane via a ‘sky tunnel’ from another aircraft. It all goes wrong, the tunnel disintegrates –  Segal along with it. Most of the audience applauded vigorously when this happened. Happy times)

The action takes place in Alaska where Seagal uncovers an oil pollution cover-up by eco-rapist, Michael Caine. Caine’s make-up lends him the appearance of an elderly Chinese theatrical as Seagal grunts his monosyllabic way through numerous killings and explosions to the film’s hysterical conclusion. Then follows an epilogue, where Seagal addresses the Alaska legislature on the evils of pollution and resource exploitation. I’m not sure if ‘breathtaking mediocrity’ is an oxymoron – but it’ll do me.

Match Point (2005)

As nasty a movie as I can remember seeing, Woody Allen’s London-based take on ‘A Place in the Sun’ is a continuation of the misogynistic themes explored, more successfully, in ‘Crimes and Misdemeanours’.

Allen likes to have his leading ladies betrayed and/or killed and I often wonder if he’s not acting out his own fantasies up there on the screen – a sort of New York Jewish Hitchcock. To compound this unpleasantness, Allen treats London and the British class system like a hesitant tourist presented with his first taste of Guinness and oysters. His characters are designed to expedite the plot without any consideration of actual social mores. There is no organic transparency only veiled artifice.(Robert Altman has a much defter touch around similar themes in ‘Gosford Park’, for instance) All in all, a mean, pucker-faced vagrant of a movie. Throw it a dollar and be on your way.

Separation City (2009)

Back in Shakespeare’s day, this would have been pelted with rotten fruit and vegetables. I did actually boo and hiss at it from my comfortable seat at Island Bay’s Empire Cinema. I remember reading somewhere that Tom Scott’s naff script had been sitting in a drawer somewhere for 20 years before being dusted off and put forward for funding. What a pity it didn’t stay there.

The story concerns a couple of failed relationships and the harm that’s done when people stay together out of custom. Unfortunately, the back stories lack credibility so what’s going on up on screen doesn’t register. The characters, especially the females, are ghastly stereotypes and offensive. The jokes are of the behind-the-hand ‘tee hee’ variety and made me squirm – and I hate to be made to feel uncomfortable in that way. In fairness, Danielle Cormack emerges with honour, investing her character with more credibility than the writing deserves. Somehow emblematic of the whole fiasco is the obvious use of Wellington Town Hall as a double for a Berlin Convention Centre. Careless and smug in a way that only someone who has been drawing the same cartoon for the Dominion Post for the last 30 years could manage. Garbage.

Wise Blood is delighted to introduce guest blogger, Docco, who will add an eleventh turkey to the list.

The Happening (2008)

This movie should have been re-named ‘Not Much Happening’. Directed by M Night Shyamalan, whose career started off so brightly with the great ‘Sixth Sense‘ and the not quite so good ‘Unbreakable’, the premise of this film is about a strange ‘happening’ which spreads across the world, making people kill each other for no apparent reason. Not a bad premise when you bear in mind that the film must be heading towards one of Shyamalan’s trademark big twists. However, the problem lies with lead actor, Mark Wahlberg. In one of the worst displays from a leading man, Wahlberg’s wooden, one-dimensional performance hampers the stuttering storyline from gathering any momentum. The piece de resistance from Wahlberg comes when the camera swoops into a close-up and he raises his eyebrows with as much sincerity as an extra on ‘Days of our Lives’ and utters the words; ‘It’s happening’.

Wahlberg’s performance stunk up this film so bad I cannot even remember the twist. ‘The Village’ and ‘Signs‘ also rank up there with Shyamalan’s trilogy of shame. He made a slight come-back with ‘Devil‘ – finally realising some of that potential he displayed in the 1999 sleeper hit, ‘The Sixth Sense’.

I love the movies so much that I’ve only ever walked out during a screening on two occasions.

The first time was when I was about 13 or 14 and went to see ‘Harold Lloyd’s World of Comedy’. There’s a scene where he’s mistakenly sniffed some ether on the roof of a tall building and then starts clambering around on the parapet. It was more than I could stand (I don’t have a great head for heights) so I walked out.

The second time was at a Wellington Film Society screening of Nagisa Oshima’s ‘The Diary of a Shinjuku Thief’. I was with Pat and a couple of friends and we were stuck in the middle of a row. But this movie was slowly sucking the life out of me, so I got up, shrugged an apology and walked out. Know what? A couple of minutes later I was joined by 20 to 30 other discriminating Wellingtonians who knew the cinematic Sin of Onan when they saw it.

All of which means that in my time I have endured some damned excruciating codswallop in pursuit of the nine muses across the silver screen. And so, another list beckons. But these just aren’t bad movies. Oh no. These are movies from  privileged homes. Movies with big budgets, big stars and big PR. These are very bad movies that told us they were very good. They led us astray with their promise of a good time only to deliver flatulence and flaccidity. Beware the Ten Turkeys!

The Matrix Reloaded (2003)

At 138 minutes, this is the longest Coca Cola ad ever made. The Matrix was interesting but borderline pretentious twaddle. This sequel takes it twitching and jerking over the edge. The impenetrable plot, meaning-laden allegories, ludicrous sex scenes and interminable Smith clones would be enough to have you reaching for the party pills – but casting a wooden Indian in the lead, ensures that the faux gravitas –  so necessary to stay onside in the suspending disbelief game – will never be delivered. DVDs should carry a Government Health Warning.

The Da Vinci Code (2006)

Based on Dan Brown’s best-seller of the same name, the cinema-goer is given an early warning by the presence of the dire Ron Howard as director. The series of implausible episodes that simulates a plot has got something to do with a search for The Holy Grail (Yes – already essayed by the Pythons – but nowhere near as funny as this) and a covert bunch of clerics called Opus Dei who believe the Grail’s discovery will bring about the end of Christianity. Well, I have news for Opus Dei; Rupert Murdoch and Simon Cowell have already rendered that concern redundant.

Poor Tom Hanks does his best but the dreary direction, plodding plot and largely phoned-in performances combine to ensure a soporific outcome. (The makers even refuse steadfastly to make any use of the Paris locations) There is a sequel, Angels & Demons (2009) which I’m told is equally insulting. Avoid at all costs.

The Postman (1997)

In which Kevin Costner covers up his bad haircut with a bad hat and wanders around post-apocalyptic Oregon, quoting Shakespeare, delivering mail and killing people. Evidently, Costner hadn’t learned his lesson with Waterworld (1995) and was determined to go from simple disaster to utter debacle. Flee for your life.

Harry Brown (2009)

I have already written about this despicable piece of right-wing agitprop under the title Dirty Harry. And the link will take you there if you’d like to read a more detailed critique. Suffice to say, I disliked this film enough to feel justified in including it here. Its ideological ancestor is Death Wish (1974), Michael Winner’s celebration of vigilante ‘justice’ – which is equally vile.

Tommy (1975)

Ken Russell’s adaptation of The Who’s Rock Opera. It has its admirers and a few infamous scenes – but for me, whatever it may have going for it, the movie runs out of gas and ideas after about 20 minutes. All that’s left then is a garish, wholly excessive testament to Russell’s somewhat confined view of humanity. If you like the music, buy the record, is my advice. I’ve had three attempts to get to grips with this whirligig of a movie. And the pants have been bored clean off me each time. If you’re infinitely patient or your discernment has been brutalised beyond repair, then this may be for you.

A Note From The Author; That’s enough for now, I think.  If I include the other 5 now, I may lose all strength and resolve. So, Part II will appear shortly.