When teenage science geek Peter Parker (Toby Maguire) is bitten by a genetically engineered ‘super-spider’, he suddenly finds he has many attributes of spiders; web-swinging, increased strength and a precognitive ‘spider-sense’. The question is, will he use these newfound abilities for his own personal gain, or for the good of the public?
As Spider-Man opens, a sweeping score courtesy of Danny Elfman settles. It creates an incredible feeling of power and suddenly, everything feels very epic. So imagine your surprise when the first you see of Spider-Man is of his alter-ego, Peter Parker: Teenage nerd.
Generally, it’s the normality of everything which is striking. Pete is a science-geek who pines after a girl who is completely out of his league. But then, who wouldn’t be pining after Mary-Jane Watson (Kirsten Dunst)? She’s beautiful, kind and just has that sort of aura around her that just says: check me out, I may be a little shallow, but who isn’t?
Then of course we have Norman (Willem Dafoe) and Harry Osborne (James Franco). Norman is the caring but slightly ignorant father of Harry Osborne, as well as a brilliant scientist. Harry is Pete’s best friend, failure of lessons and son of Norman.
The chemistry throughout all the characters works well. Everyone seems to be quite happy in their own little mundane lives throughout the Big Apple. It’s strange to think that in a super-hero film, there has to be mass conflicts of interest however, for just about the first 15 minutes, everyone in Spider-Man is happy to…well, exist.
However, it doesn’t take long for that conflict to kick in. We learn Norman is losing his funding and he generally seems somewhat pissed off about that. See the thing about Norman is that he is brilliant but somewhat overly ambitious. The sort of guy who just takes things too far…
Now would be a great time to learn some more about Peter’s family. He lives with his Aunt May (Rosemary Harris) and his Uncle Ben (Cliff Robertson). These two are pretty much the subject of some of the earliest (and best) humour of the film. It’s subtle, and it’s very honest in the way of which characters are saying what but it works wonders. Uncle Ben, is essentially the comedian, whereas Aunt May is the voice of reason. It’s a good coupling and it works well.
The great thing about having Sam Raimi directing a motion picture, like Spider-Man is that having worked on low budget horror flicks (The Evil Dead) he knows what can be very scary and how far to go. He exploits that to the max in the scene where Peter begins to change into Spider-Man as a creepy montage of DNA and Spiders occurs. Generally, this isn’t the best film for Arachnophobics…
Meanwhile back at school everything is portrayed incredibly well. Raimi doesn’t opt to take the simplistic approach of looking at school as a hyper-stereotypical place of “Oh my gawds…” and cheerleaders. Everything seems generally real. The one slight problem is that the local bully Flash Thompson (Joe Manganiello) seems slightly on the edge.
The computer effects have aged since 2002 but can be given the benefit of the doubt now. They certainly don’t render the film unwatchable and still get across the principle of what is portrayed.
Spider-Mans only obvious fault has to be the writing. It is usually pretty good, but sometimes it just fails terribly. There are lines that are supposed to tug at the heart-strings but never manage to do anything other than make you wonder who wrote those terrible lines, such as Peter saying “Sometimes…you know people…” whilst trying to convince her she’s a good actor.
When it comes to the wrestling ring, Raimi manages to catch a wonderfully tacky and gritty environment. Naturally, for a character as over the top as the Ring side announcer, you need a great actor. But not too great. Which is why I see that the only man for the job was Bruce Campbell! He isn’t around for much, but when he’s pulling off the worlds worst Elvis impression, he is funny. Almost too funny.
A great thing about Spider-Man is that it has no problem with making Peter seem really, really dark when required. When everything kicks off and Peter goes crazy, Toby’s performance and the tone of the film really sends one of those immense chills down your spine.I can’t stress enough how much I think the studio hit the jackpot with Toby Maguire as Spider-Man.
Obviously, with a project such as Spider-Man, it would be insane not to have some incredible shots. When the camera swings down and up through the traffic of New York in a first person shot looking at everything from Spider-Man’s point of view it’s one of those great shots that just has you feeling exilerated for hours on end.
A special notice here to J.K. Simmons for his unforgettable and hysterical portrayal of J. Jonah Jameson, editor in chief of the Daily Bugle (“If we can geta picture of Julia Roberts in a thong, we can sure get a picture of this weirdo!”) In spite of just about anything that’s happening on screen, Jameson is, always has been and always will be my favorite character from the Spider-Man series.
Despite the subject matter of criminality, it’s all handled fairly light-heartedly. It’s quite shocking when people start dieing, but Spider-Man’s wit and general ass-kickery just makes everyone feel at home. As ever, when the first real set piece comes in, we’re treated to a brief glimpse of the one and only Mr Stan Lee, head of Marvel comics. Adding Spider-Man to the long list of cameos he has done must have been a great experience, especially seeing he had the honour of saving someone (he’s now my hero).
Naturally, I’m not ending this review without a mention of the upside down kiss in the rain. It’s a great moment of cinematography and whoever came up with the idea deserves a raise. Whoever decided they’d have her cheat on her boyfriend, however deserves to be fired. Unless of course the idea is to give a hint that she doesn’t care about him? Think about it…
The final few scenes say just about everything youi’d ned to know about the film. It sums up the plot, the action and the characters really well. You get a great feel for everyone and everything and it shows how much effort was put into making it.
Overall, the direction brings out the best performances in what is essentially a flawed script when it comes to dialogue. But there are also some amazing set pieces and great conventions put into effect really well.
4/5
Sunday, 22 April 2007
Fight Club (1999)
When a mindless consumer (Edward Norton) begins finding it difficult to sleep, he begins going to therapy sessions for problems he doesn’t have. But when suddenly, his flat explodes whilst he’s away on business he finds himself with nowhere to go. In a fleeting moment of insanity, he calls a man he’d met on a plane earlier that day: Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt), and as they shun a life of consumerism, they find a new way of living: Fight Club.
As Fight Club opens to a CG journey from the microscopic cells on the Narrators head to the barrel of the gun in his mouth, it seems no wonder that the film failed tremendously at the box-office. It’s too unconventional too fast and as such is, too much to take so soon, which is why it’s nice for everything to conform slightly. However, for every time Fight Club adheres to the pre-determined rules, it breaks a few more.
Edward Norton’s narrator is suitably unemotional in his voice-over. Both the way that everything is spoken, and the actual dialogue itself is obscenely clever. It’s gripping, clever and really reflects everything that the average person doesn’t like to be reminded about themselves. The very fact that they are consumers. And in that alone, the narrator is: us.
The conventionalism within Fight Club soon wears off, but it happens in such a way that the audience doesn’t mind. For a short time, there doesn’t seem to be a plot. The Narrator struggles to find any comfort with merely being a white-collar everyman so he tries to remedy it. He goes to a number of support groups for the (usually terminally) ill where he finds that he can survive with a mixture of human interaction and consumerism, a balance. To relate back to the Narrators coffee table, you have to have the both the Yin & Yang sides of things.
As much as Fight club is fuelled by testosterone, it’d be ridiculous to assume there are no female leads. Firstly there’s Bob (Meatloaf). Bob sounds very predominantly like a man, so why is he put down as a female lead? “Bob has bitch tits” drawls the Narrator whilst weeping into bob’s disturbingly heavy chest. Admittedly, that’s overly harsh. I just didn’t want Helena Bonham Carter to feel alone as the only female lead. Marla Singer is in short, a bitch. She appears to find catharsis in the same support groups as the Narrator. Naturally, being awoken to the shallow nature of his little game, the Narrator looks to get rid of her as much as possible and decides to trade therapy groups. It seems sick because it is. It’s one of many times that Fight Club displays an ability to embrace controversy as if it were something to be proud of. And what with the execution of such controversial acts, everyone behind the making of Fight Club should be proud.
The film, in stark similarity to the narration, is very blunt. It’s a real world with most of the colours being dark and dank as opposed to a bright colour filled land of happiness and joy. People are cruel and selfish, none less so than Tyler Durden. Tyler is just that kind of guy who you love even though you know you shouldn’t. He is straight to the point and embraces his humanity, not totally dissimilar to the way in which the film embraces controversy (controversy, he is usually the instigator of).
Where the Narrator thinks about what he does, Tyler just rolls with it. He is that guy who is so off the cuff that he doesn’t even try to condone what he does. He will give reasons for it, but never once will he say that he’s doing the right thing. In that respect it seems to an extent that Tyler Durden is so fucking sly that he could run for president. In a similar respect, he is a character that everyone wants to be and because everyone wants to be him, he’s a character unrestricted by the burden of logic and sanity.
With Tyler comes a quirky sense of humour that despite bordering on absurdity never makes the final leap and so helps the viewers to relate to the characters. The dialogue is compelling, funny and at times completely and utterly disturbing.
There are times where Fight Club will delve into great detail to help the viewer come to a state of premature nirvana (in relation to the film) only for such a scene to be followed by another in which as little is revealed as possible. The entire film is very confusing at times and in between the random facts (“You can swallow a pint of blood before you get sick.”) and the unrelentless fighting, you get a slow but steady evolution. Not only with the plot and the characters, but with yourself. Remember: you are the Narrator, and as the Narrator evolves (mostly into Tyler) so do you.
The strange thing about evolving into Tyler however is that as you evolve into him, you’d expect to gain a greater knowledge of him. As soon as you think you know something about Tyler he is just as likely to throw it in your face as he is to replicate such an action.
Fight Club throughout has an insane science to it. There is a slight religious subtext but nothing to be taken too seriously. The characters are the focus of the story but you never quite get a full portrait of anyone. And overall, at the most light-hearted of moments is when everything seems the scariest. Fight Club is a mixed bag of emotion and a lucky dip of contradiction.
The cinematography is interesting. There are times when the camera actions and editing seem standard but naturally, in a film like Fight Club, that doesn’t last for very long. There’s something captivating about how everything plays out. It’s possibly in the way that it never quite misses an opportunity to display great dialogue or plot. On top of that the music throughout is 100%, sometimes in the most embarrassingly catchy way.
Brad Pitt is brilliant as the coolest guy alive (honestly, is he actually even acting?) just as Edward Norton is great as a hollow shell that follows the crowds.
There are a few key points throughout that really stay with you for a long time afterwards. Firstly is the breaking of the fourth wall. It’s done a good 3 or 4 times throughout the film and sometimes it makes you wonder if a character really is talking to you. It never gives a distinct answer but it’s all up to a specific individual really.
Second are a few scenes that turn everything on it’s head and give off the overall impression that ALL HELL HAS BROKEN LOOSE!
But that only happens a few times, so there’s really no need to fret.
It’s strange how many different views Fight Club brings up that you were probably never going to think about if you hadn’t seen it.Sacrifice is everything.Everything is nothing.Nothing is knowing yourself.To know yourself you need to sacrifice.
Sometimes it does seem that the film is so close to emo. The lack of conformity, the moving away from the crowds and the general truthfulness of it all.
Maybe that’s the point. Or maybe the point is to stop worrying about the point…
Conformity is bad from Tylers point of view.Tyler is bad from conformity’s point of view.But whatever your opinion, it’s pointless to deny that Tyler is an infection, a self replicating virus. Sooner than later, everyone is Tyler and it’s certainly worth checking Fight Club out just to experience this.
5/5
As Fight Club opens to a CG journey from the microscopic cells on the Narrators head to the barrel of the gun in his mouth, it seems no wonder that the film failed tremendously at the box-office. It’s too unconventional too fast and as such is, too much to take so soon, which is why it’s nice for everything to conform slightly. However, for every time Fight Club adheres to the pre-determined rules, it breaks a few more.
Edward Norton’s narrator is suitably unemotional in his voice-over. Both the way that everything is spoken, and the actual dialogue itself is obscenely clever. It’s gripping, clever and really reflects everything that the average person doesn’t like to be reminded about themselves. The very fact that they are consumers. And in that alone, the narrator is: us.
The conventionalism within Fight Club soon wears off, but it happens in such a way that the audience doesn’t mind. For a short time, there doesn’t seem to be a plot. The Narrator struggles to find any comfort with merely being a white-collar everyman so he tries to remedy it. He goes to a number of support groups for the (usually terminally) ill where he finds that he can survive with a mixture of human interaction and consumerism, a balance. To relate back to the Narrators coffee table, you have to have the both the Yin & Yang sides of things.
As much as Fight club is fuelled by testosterone, it’d be ridiculous to assume there are no female leads. Firstly there’s Bob (Meatloaf). Bob sounds very predominantly like a man, so why is he put down as a female lead? “Bob has bitch tits” drawls the Narrator whilst weeping into bob’s disturbingly heavy chest. Admittedly, that’s overly harsh. I just didn’t want Helena Bonham Carter to feel alone as the only female lead. Marla Singer is in short, a bitch. She appears to find catharsis in the same support groups as the Narrator. Naturally, being awoken to the shallow nature of his little game, the Narrator looks to get rid of her as much as possible and decides to trade therapy groups. It seems sick because it is. It’s one of many times that Fight Club displays an ability to embrace controversy as if it were something to be proud of. And what with the execution of such controversial acts, everyone behind the making of Fight Club should be proud.
The film, in stark similarity to the narration, is very blunt. It’s a real world with most of the colours being dark and dank as opposed to a bright colour filled land of happiness and joy. People are cruel and selfish, none less so than Tyler Durden. Tyler is just that kind of guy who you love even though you know you shouldn’t. He is straight to the point and embraces his humanity, not totally dissimilar to the way in which the film embraces controversy (controversy, he is usually the instigator of).
Where the Narrator thinks about what he does, Tyler just rolls with it. He is that guy who is so off the cuff that he doesn’t even try to condone what he does. He will give reasons for it, but never once will he say that he’s doing the right thing. In that respect it seems to an extent that Tyler Durden is so fucking sly that he could run for president. In a similar respect, he is a character that everyone wants to be and because everyone wants to be him, he’s a character unrestricted by the burden of logic and sanity.
With Tyler comes a quirky sense of humour that despite bordering on absurdity never makes the final leap and so helps the viewers to relate to the characters. The dialogue is compelling, funny and at times completely and utterly disturbing.
There are times where Fight Club will delve into great detail to help the viewer come to a state of premature nirvana (in relation to the film) only for such a scene to be followed by another in which as little is revealed as possible. The entire film is very confusing at times and in between the random facts (“You can swallow a pint of blood before you get sick.”) and the unrelentless fighting, you get a slow but steady evolution. Not only with the plot and the characters, but with yourself. Remember: you are the Narrator, and as the Narrator evolves (mostly into Tyler) so do you.
The strange thing about evolving into Tyler however is that as you evolve into him, you’d expect to gain a greater knowledge of him. As soon as you think you know something about Tyler he is just as likely to throw it in your face as he is to replicate such an action.
Fight Club throughout has an insane science to it. There is a slight religious subtext but nothing to be taken too seriously. The characters are the focus of the story but you never quite get a full portrait of anyone. And overall, at the most light-hearted of moments is when everything seems the scariest. Fight Club is a mixed bag of emotion and a lucky dip of contradiction.
The cinematography is interesting. There are times when the camera actions and editing seem standard but naturally, in a film like Fight Club, that doesn’t last for very long. There’s something captivating about how everything plays out. It’s possibly in the way that it never quite misses an opportunity to display great dialogue or plot. On top of that the music throughout is 100%, sometimes in the most embarrassingly catchy way.
Brad Pitt is brilliant as the coolest guy alive (honestly, is he actually even acting?) just as Edward Norton is great as a hollow shell that follows the crowds.
There are a few key points throughout that really stay with you for a long time afterwards. Firstly is the breaking of the fourth wall. It’s done a good 3 or 4 times throughout the film and sometimes it makes you wonder if a character really is talking to you. It never gives a distinct answer but it’s all up to a specific individual really.
Second are a few scenes that turn everything on it’s head and give off the overall impression that ALL HELL HAS BROKEN LOOSE!
But that only happens a few times, so there’s really no need to fret.
It’s strange how many different views Fight Club brings up that you were probably never going to think about if you hadn’t seen it.Sacrifice is everything.Everything is nothing.Nothing is knowing yourself.To know yourself you need to sacrifice.
Sometimes it does seem that the film is so close to emo. The lack of conformity, the moving away from the crowds and the general truthfulness of it all.
Maybe that’s the point. Or maybe the point is to stop worrying about the point…
Conformity is bad from Tylers point of view.Tyler is bad from conformity’s point of view.But whatever your opinion, it’s pointless to deny that Tyler is an infection, a self replicating virus. Sooner than later, everyone is Tyler and it’s certainly worth checking Fight Club out just to experience this.
5/5
Monday, 16 April 2007
Lost In Translation (2003)
When has-been movie star Bob Harris (Bill Murray) travels to Japan to scrape a small fortune for a whisky advert, he finds comfort in Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson), a newlywed many years his junior who shares the aimlessness that has dominated his life.
What sort of film opens on an image of Scarlett Johansson’s ass? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Scarlett is a complete and utter babe but it just seems…strange. I’m unsure what Director Sofia Coppola was attempting to achieve. Maybe something artsy? Or maybe she just wanted something other than credits to captivate the audience…
Bob Harris sits in the back of a Japanese taxi sliding down the highway parallel to the absurdly bright town of Tokyo. Slowly, some gentle and soothing music kicks in and alters the tone of the scene massively. The pounding city lights blur past the taxi juxtapose the calm music to create an entirely different mood. May seem like a small point, but it’s one of the more beautiful transitions ever committed to film.
It’s a simple thing to film, but there is something unsettlingly hysterical about seeing Bill Murray in an elevator surrounded by Japanese men all of whom are at least a foot shorter than him. It’s really nice to see film-makers having fun with culture, something that just about everybody has been afraid to do for a long time in the fears that it could spark of some major international incident. From remarkably low shower heads to a running machine that cannot be stopped, it seems that Bob samples everything that could be different from what he’s used to in the west and watches it fall apart in front of him.
However, once again, a series of darkly lit establishing shots with some slow (and frankly depressing) music manage to set up a mournful slow mood for when necessary.
Charlotte however seems to have everything working for her but possibly in too well a way. She immediately seems unappreciated by her photographer husband and her reasons for coming to Japan are as simple as “I had nothing better to do.” Seeking fulfilment, Charlotte makes her way to a nearby shrine and watches a number of monks and nuns engaging in some kind of ritual, but as she later states she feels nothing. She’s numb.
It seems only too perfect then that Bob is having the same issue, albeit along with a few other problems. There are a few memorable scenes, one of which involves a hooker trying to, for lack of a better word, force Bob to have sex with her. It really is one of the funniest scenes ever, as the woman rolls around on the ground screeching “Oh, no Mr. Harris, I just want you to rip my stockings.”, whilst tripping him over. It’s up amongst the funniest intercultural exchanges ever.
It really takes a while for Bob and Charlotte to truly notice each other. Both Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson seem to have under-acting down to an art form and when they do meet, that under-acting really makes the raw dialogue feel more natural. Sometimes what they are saying breaches the realms of believability slightly but there isn’t a line within the entire film that goes so far as to feel ‘romantic’ as such.
Something great about the film is that it feels real. It’s very unconventional, in the way of the script and the simplistic techniques in the way of shots and angles, but it’s a realistic idea and one that, although at first hard to comprehend, is perfectly plausible. There really is something strange about the unconventional realism that Sofia Coppola seems to be trying to employ.
Rather than using metaphorical situations and strategies, Lost in Translation uses more realistic techniques in order to convey depth. Rather than delving too deep, everything is shown as it is, and as such although the film is set in a different country and culture to the primary audience, the idea of real events really keeps the feeling of depth around.
The idea of being in another culture is used very well and is seen as a way for the two leads to realise what they dislike around their lives, and this of course makes them feel more and more distant from those around them. It’s a great idea for these two people, decades apart in age, to bond through their distance and to feel comfortable as they are in a similar position to each other. Although not once throughout the entire film is there a ‘threat’ as such, but despite that there is the deep sincere feeling that both Bob and Charlotte are saving each other, if not only from wandering through the rest of their lives aimlessly.
Every film has its flaws, and it’s a shame to say that Lost in Translation loses its appeal pretty quickly, not because it gets repetitive but because about 40 minutes is the subtle quiet humour is abruptly shifted to a loud scenic night life. There’s certainly a fun atmosphere all around these scenes but it’s in such contrast to what the film was for so long that it feels very much out of place. Another major flaw, revolving around this problem is that the camera actions don’t reflect the craziness of the Tokyo nightlife. The shots and angles are very much in the same vein as the slow funny scenes as earlier on and generally, it doesn’t fit. That said, the music throughout the film, although not to my own tastes is superb in terms of reflecting the on screen action or creating juxtaposition to match the context of the situation. And also when the plot moves away from the ‘fun night life’ scenes, the cinematography begins reflecting what the moods of the characters are and the direction the story is going.
It seems that the more the film progresses so do the characters. It’s very much a character driven film and there isn’t a great deal of plot to follow. Sometimes the characters are happy to just know each other and that is the sort of feeling which really helps the film move forward,
A great example of a character driven film with subtly but hysterical humour. However, it does begin to trail off at times, so can seem a bit long around the middle.
3/5
What sort of film opens on an image of Scarlett Johansson’s ass? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Scarlett is a complete and utter babe but it just seems…strange. I’m unsure what Director Sofia Coppola was attempting to achieve. Maybe something artsy? Or maybe she just wanted something other than credits to captivate the audience…
Bob Harris sits in the back of a Japanese taxi sliding down the highway parallel to the absurdly bright town of Tokyo. Slowly, some gentle and soothing music kicks in and alters the tone of the scene massively. The pounding city lights blur past the taxi juxtapose the calm music to create an entirely different mood. May seem like a small point, but it’s one of the more beautiful transitions ever committed to film.
It’s a simple thing to film, but there is something unsettlingly hysterical about seeing Bill Murray in an elevator surrounded by Japanese men all of whom are at least a foot shorter than him. It’s really nice to see film-makers having fun with culture, something that just about everybody has been afraid to do for a long time in the fears that it could spark of some major international incident. From remarkably low shower heads to a running machine that cannot be stopped, it seems that Bob samples everything that could be different from what he’s used to in the west and watches it fall apart in front of him.
However, once again, a series of darkly lit establishing shots with some slow (and frankly depressing) music manage to set up a mournful slow mood for when necessary.
Charlotte however seems to have everything working for her but possibly in too well a way. She immediately seems unappreciated by her photographer husband and her reasons for coming to Japan are as simple as “I had nothing better to do.” Seeking fulfilment, Charlotte makes her way to a nearby shrine and watches a number of monks and nuns engaging in some kind of ritual, but as she later states she feels nothing. She’s numb.
It seems only too perfect then that Bob is having the same issue, albeit along with a few other problems. There are a few memorable scenes, one of which involves a hooker trying to, for lack of a better word, force Bob to have sex with her. It really is one of the funniest scenes ever, as the woman rolls around on the ground screeching “Oh, no Mr. Harris, I just want you to rip my stockings.”, whilst tripping him over. It’s up amongst the funniest intercultural exchanges ever.
It really takes a while for Bob and Charlotte to truly notice each other. Both Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson seem to have under-acting down to an art form and when they do meet, that under-acting really makes the raw dialogue feel more natural. Sometimes what they are saying breaches the realms of believability slightly but there isn’t a line within the entire film that goes so far as to feel ‘romantic’ as such.
Something great about the film is that it feels real. It’s very unconventional, in the way of the script and the simplistic techniques in the way of shots and angles, but it’s a realistic idea and one that, although at first hard to comprehend, is perfectly plausible. There really is something strange about the unconventional realism that Sofia Coppola seems to be trying to employ.
Rather than using metaphorical situations and strategies, Lost in Translation uses more realistic techniques in order to convey depth. Rather than delving too deep, everything is shown as it is, and as such although the film is set in a different country and culture to the primary audience, the idea of real events really keeps the feeling of depth around.
The idea of being in another culture is used very well and is seen as a way for the two leads to realise what they dislike around their lives, and this of course makes them feel more and more distant from those around them. It’s a great idea for these two people, decades apart in age, to bond through their distance and to feel comfortable as they are in a similar position to each other. Although not once throughout the entire film is there a ‘threat’ as such, but despite that there is the deep sincere feeling that both Bob and Charlotte are saving each other, if not only from wandering through the rest of their lives aimlessly.
Every film has its flaws, and it’s a shame to say that Lost in Translation loses its appeal pretty quickly, not because it gets repetitive but because about 40 minutes is the subtle quiet humour is abruptly shifted to a loud scenic night life. There’s certainly a fun atmosphere all around these scenes but it’s in such contrast to what the film was for so long that it feels very much out of place. Another major flaw, revolving around this problem is that the camera actions don’t reflect the craziness of the Tokyo nightlife. The shots and angles are very much in the same vein as the slow funny scenes as earlier on and generally, it doesn’t fit. That said, the music throughout the film, although not to my own tastes is superb in terms of reflecting the on screen action or creating juxtaposition to match the context of the situation. And also when the plot moves away from the ‘fun night life’ scenes, the cinematography begins reflecting what the moods of the characters are and the direction the story is going.
It seems that the more the film progresses so do the characters. It’s very much a character driven film and there isn’t a great deal of plot to follow. Sometimes the characters are happy to just know each other and that is the sort of feeling which really helps the film move forward,
A great example of a character driven film with subtly but hysterical humour. However, it does begin to trail off at times, so can seem a bit long around the middle.
3/5
Sunday, 15 April 2007
Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)
When the Nazis plan to use the mystical Jewish artefact the Ark of the Covenant for their own means, the United States Government recruits Archaeologist and University Professor Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford) to retrieve it first.
As Raiders opens we are treated to what one can only assume is some kind of dark and damp Amazon jungle. After travelling a little, a dark figure stops to look at a map. Suddenly, the score rises and a figure creeps behind him with a gun. At seemingly the last moment, faster than you can blink: whip, crack boom! The gun is on the floor and Indiana Jones steps into the light. It’s a grim opening for what is surely one of the most light-hearted, albeit violent, action-adventures of all time.
The opening adventure is one that has been imitated repeatedly but certainly never matched. From the spiders, to the spiked fence to the giant ball chasing Indy through the narrow passage ways. Quite frankly there is no denying that Indiana Jones can pull off some thrilling heroics. Quite simply, he’s a cool guy who everyone loves. There are points where even his enemies seem to like him. But he is in their way. And they are Nazis…but more on that later.
It seems clear within minutes of meeting Indy that he is a very human hero. When captured and surrounded by an arrogant French rival and lots of tribes-people pointing arrows at him, the only way he can manage to escape is to slip away when everyone is stunned by the beauty of a golden idol the aforementioned Frenchman Dr. Belloq (Paul Freeman) holds up to show how wonderful he is. Mere minutes later, when in the seemingly safe confines of a plane, he freaks out stupendously when realising he’s near enough sat on a snake. See, if there’s one thing about Indy, it’s that he hates snakes. But all this is why Indy is such a loveable character. He often finds himself in quite absurd situations and at such times he makes no attempt to seem suave. He generally panics and tries the first thing that comes to mind as opposed to sitting down and working out a strategy. At one point when asked what he’s going to do, he even says “I don’t know. I’m making this up as I go along.”
There are many things about Indy that have just changed cinema. One of the most famous is of course the red line travelling across the map whenever Indy travels somewhere. This is not only an interesting and unconventional way to add in a short interlude, but also saves needless conversation in order to determine where our beloved professor is going.
It seems strange when reading that this great adventurer unafraid to kill just about anyone in his way is a University professor teaching kids about archaeology, but for some reason on film it just delivers. Maybe it’s the secret fantasy everybody has harvested about leading some secret double life. Maybe it’s just the great writing and fabulous direction (courtesy of George Lucas, Philip Kaufman, Laurence Kasdan and Steven Spielberg respectively).
Maybe, Harrison Ford could just pass off as both. Who knows, but when in practise, Indy never fails to delight.
Naturally in a film this big, you need a girl and in Raiders, that girl is Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen), a chick almost as hard as Indy himself. She can certainly knock back the shots and defend herself. Cue, what simply must be the greatest bar brawl ever. An early sign of greatness within Raiders is that it’s unafraid to venture into the grounds of, essentially, making fun of itself. There are so many daft moments that generally should feel out of place, but because of the simplicity of the whole film (it really is reminiscent of those old television adventure serials at times) everything just slots into place.
In a similar fashion to the cliff-hangers that would end each episode in an adventure serial, there are a number of crazy twists in Raiders which are put simply, shocking. Despite the simplistic approach to making Raiders, Spielberg and Lucas clearly have no problem in breaking a lot of pre-determined rules.
Throughout Raiders, music is used fabulously. Naturally, it would, seeing as it’s a John Williams composition. But it succeeds in doing something very few scores can do: even at the more boring talky bits (none of them are boring but some are obviously more interesting than others), the music manages to help keep you on the edge of your seats. Rather than increase the tension at slow points in the plot, it speeds the slow bits of story up. That’s not to say that suspense isn’t used. The act of building up suspense is matched only by the practise of breaking it in Raiders and it is broken a lot. Sometimes via comedy, sometimes via horror and frequently by pure hardcore adrenaline pumped action.
If nothing else, Raiders can quite happily boast the greatest action scenes ever. At some points in the film, it doesn’t stop for air. It is just spectacular set piece after spectacular set piece. And given Indy is an archaeologist, he certainly doesn’t appear to be afraid of destroying things. Whether it’s pushing baskets down to find someone or knocking a wall over with an ancient statue, Indy will do whatever it takes to find what he wants and that may be what makes the adventure atmosphere so energetic that it puts the audience on a natural high.
With a great cast, better set pieces and what is often over-looked as the greatest twist ending ever, Raiders of the Lost Ark is a simple film with remarkable humour, action and general fun. Certainly a classic.
5/5
As Raiders opens we are treated to what one can only assume is some kind of dark and damp Amazon jungle. After travelling a little, a dark figure stops to look at a map. Suddenly, the score rises and a figure creeps behind him with a gun. At seemingly the last moment, faster than you can blink: whip, crack boom! The gun is on the floor and Indiana Jones steps into the light. It’s a grim opening for what is surely one of the most light-hearted, albeit violent, action-adventures of all time.
The opening adventure is one that has been imitated repeatedly but certainly never matched. From the spiders, to the spiked fence to the giant ball chasing Indy through the narrow passage ways. Quite frankly there is no denying that Indiana Jones can pull off some thrilling heroics. Quite simply, he’s a cool guy who everyone loves. There are points where even his enemies seem to like him. But he is in their way. And they are Nazis…but more on that later.
It seems clear within minutes of meeting Indy that he is a very human hero. When captured and surrounded by an arrogant French rival and lots of tribes-people pointing arrows at him, the only way he can manage to escape is to slip away when everyone is stunned by the beauty of a golden idol the aforementioned Frenchman Dr. Belloq (Paul Freeman) holds up to show how wonderful he is. Mere minutes later, when in the seemingly safe confines of a plane, he freaks out stupendously when realising he’s near enough sat on a snake. See, if there’s one thing about Indy, it’s that he hates snakes. But all this is why Indy is such a loveable character. He often finds himself in quite absurd situations and at such times he makes no attempt to seem suave. He generally panics and tries the first thing that comes to mind as opposed to sitting down and working out a strategy. At one point when asked what he’s going to do, he even says “I don’t know. I’m making this up as I go along.”
There are many things about Indy that have just changed cinema. One of the most famous is of course the red line travelling across the map whenever Indy travels somewhere. This is not only an interesting and unconventional way to add in a short interlude, but also saves needless conversation in order to determine where our beloved professor is going.
It seems strange when reading that this great adventurer unafraid to kill just about anyone in his way is a University professor teaching kids about archaeology, but for some reason on film it just delivers. Maybe it’s the secret fantasy everybody has harvested about leading some secret double life. Maybe it’s just the great writing and fabulous direction (courtesy of George Lucas, Philip Kaufman, Laurence Kasdan and Steven Spielberg respectively).
Maybe, Harrison Ford could just pass off as both. Who knows, but when in practise, Indy never fails to delight.
Naturally in a film this big, you need a girl and in Raiders, that girl is Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen), a chick almost as hard as Indy himself. She can certainly knock back the shots and defend herself. Cue, what simply must be the greatest bar brawl ever. An early sign of greatness within Raiders is that it’s unafraid to venture into the grounds of, essentially, making fun of itself. There are so many daft moments that generally should feel out of place, but because of the simplicity of the whole film (it really is reminiscent of those old television adventure serials at times) everything just slots into place.
In a similar fashion to the cliff-hangers that would end each episode in an adventure serial, there are a number of crazy twists in Raiders which are put simply, shocking. Despite the simplistic approach to making Raiders, Spielberg and Lucas clearly have no problem in breaking a lot of pre-determined rules.
Throughout Raiders, music is used fabulously. Naturally, it would, seeing as it’s a John Williams composition. But it succeeds in doing something very few scores can do: even at the more boring talky bits (none of them are boring but some are obviously more interesting than others), the music manages to help keep you on the edge of your seats. Rather than increase the tension at slow points in the plot, it speeds the slow bits of story up. That’s not to say that suspense isn’t used. The act of building up suspense is matched only by the practise of breaking it in Raiders and it is broken a lot. Sometimes via comedy, sometimes via horror and frequently by pure hardcore adrenaline pumped action.
If nothing else, Raiders can quite happily boast the greatest action scenes ever. At some points in the film, it doesn’t stop for air. It is just spectacular set piece after spectacular set piece. And given Indy is an archaeologist, he certainly doesn’t appear to be afraid of destroying things. Whether it’s pushing baskets down to find someone or knocking a wall over with an ancient statue, Indy will do whatever it takes to find what he wants and that may be what makes the adventure atmosphere so energetic that it puts the audience on a natural high.
With a great cast, better set pieces and what is often over-looked as the greatest twist ending ever, Raiders of the Lost Ark is a simple film with remarkable humour, action and general fun. Certainly a classic.
5/5
Saturday, 14 April 2007
Casablanca (1942)
Alright, here's how it is. Main review takes up a huge chunk of the blog. However, if you're looking for a quick synopsis of what I think, the bottom paragraph and mark out of 5 should suffice. Enjoy the review, or better yet: go see the film and enjoy that!
Casablanca: a city full of criminals and shady dealings, home only to those who wish to find transport to America, something made increasingly difficult by the raging World War II. So when Rick (Humphrey Bogart) finds that a long-lost love of his Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman) and her legendary husband Victor Lazlo (Paul Henreid) have walked into his bar, his world is turned upside down.
Casablanca is one of those films that just opens, for lack of a better word, grandly. The music roars, the visuals are sharp and pristine and when the narration kicks in there is an aura of confidence which just cannot be matched by any contemporary film.
Immediately the mood is tense and although the film has aged, it still has the ability to manipulate the audience’s emotions.
One of Casablanca’s first lines says the most about the film and the setting: “Perhaps tomorrow we’ll be on a plane.” From the beginning there is no mistaking among the audience that nobody is sure of anything. And with that we move to Rick’s saloon, the specific are within the mystical town of Casablanca where most of the plot is laid out. Rick’s is a jostling borough of happiness and excitement, but also as is soon made evident the subject of many shady doings and the like. Immediately, it’s apparent that 1942 was the golden age of cinema; the women are beautiful and seductive, the men are fast talking and hard boiled and everyone knows their place.
In a film where there are endless amounts of quotes, it’s remarkable to think that just about every line and every moment is helping to move the plot along. For instance, one line that succeeds in humouring and making a point is spoken by a key character Ugarte (played to perfection by the ever wonderful Peter Lorre): “I have many friends who like me but somehow because you despise me, you’re the only one I trust.” Not only does this make just about everyone smile but it goes to show us one thing about Rick. He’s the kind of guy everybody trusts.
As well as Casablanca can build up tension, it manages to switch moods even better. Whether jumping between threats and jokes or tears and kisses it never fails to inspire some emotion. When it gets down to business there is a really strong feeling of romanticism throughout which appears to be fuelled by the way everything seems so fantastical. Whether it’s the look, the dialogue or the plot, every thing feels as if it’s in a league just slightly more elegant than that of out own world, regardless of the seedy setting.
It seems that after spending 35 minutes in Rick’s and having much of the plot laid out over one evening, everything should start to feel a little long, but there are two things that really keep everything interesting. Firstly, there is the atmosphere of the bar. Rather than feeling like somebody standing outside looking through the window and seeing what’s going on, you feel much more like a customer of Rick’s and as such everything seems much more enjoyable. Second is the idea that everything keeps moving the plot forwards, wasting no time and as such it feels at times like a thriller in the way that you’re literally on the edge of your seat wondering how things are going to turn out next. It’s a simple plot element, but it’s one that really works in a way that is usually forgotten today.
When watching Casablanca, it’s pretty much impossible to pick out an actor who isn’t really up to much. It’s often considered that acting has improved through the years, but when watching Casablanca and seeing the real emotion translated through the actors it’s impossible to deny that the performances aren’t stunning even today. As such, there is also great chemistry between Bogart and Bergman.
Throughout, Casablanca frequently has scenes which just tug at the heartstrings. It’s difficult not to feel sorry for characters as they realise that the ideas of relationships that they had planned out just aren’t going to work, or have been scattered to the winds. It really sets the standard for all romance films, which is ironic because it really is a standard which doesn’t seem like it’s particularly easy or even possible to meet or improve upon.
There’s very little to be said about Casablanca that can really take away any of it’s greatness. Every film has faults but Casablanca has so few, it almost seems trivial mentioning them. Considering that the title town is frequently referred to in disgust, presumably because of the lack of morals surrounding the city and the petty criminals within, there is little but a couple of broad establishing shots with a few shady deals to emphasise the negativity. At times, Casablanca actually seems like a rather nice place to live and set up a business, which although only slightly, does hinder the poor appearance of such a hated city.
In the end, one of the strange things about Casablanca is that it is a rather simple love story surrounded by a very intricately woven plot that is as much to do with the Second World War as anything else. It shows how Rick is affected by his love returning to him and how when she’s near she lights a fuse of hatred within him for what she did but also makes him more compassionate as well.
Despite a few little issues with the setting of the city, there really is nothing that can stop Casablanca from being the greatest romance film ever. Strong performances all around and a great plot which has forever since been honoured, this really is a classic.
5/5
Casablanca: a city full of criminals and shady dealings, home only to those who wish to find transport to America, something made increasingly difficult by the raging World War II. So when Rick (Humphrey Bogart) finds that a long-lost love of his Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman) and her legendary husband Victor Lazlo (Paul Henreid) have walked into his bar, his world is turned upside down.
Casablanca is one of those films that just opens, for lack of a better word, grandly. The music roars, the visuals are sharp and pristine and when the narration kicks in there is an aura of confidence which just cannot be matched by any contemporary film.
Immediately the mood is tense and although the film has aged, it still has the ability to manipulate the audience’s emotions.
One of Casablanca’s first lines says the most about the film and the setting: “Perhaps tomorrow we’ll be on a plane.” From the beginning there is no mistaking among the audience that nobody is sure of anything. And with that we move to Rick’s saloon, the specific are within the mystical town of Casablanca where most of the plot is laid out. Rick’s is a jostling borough of happiness and excitement, but also as is soon made evident the subject of many shady doings and the like. Immediately, it’s apparent that 1942 was the golden age of cinema; the women are beautiful and seductive, the men are fast talking and hard boiled and everyone knows their place.
In a film where there are endless amounts of quotes, it’s remarkable to think that just about every line and every moment is helping to move the plot along. For instance, one line that succeeds in humouring and making a point is spoken by a key character Ugarte (played to perfection by the ever wonderful Peter Lorre): “I have many friends who like me but somehow because you despise me, you’re the only one I trust.” Not only does this make just about everyone smile but it goes to show us one thing about Rick. He’s the kind of guy everybody trusts.
As well as Casablanca can build up tension, it manages to switch moods even better. Whether jumping between threats and jokes or tears and kisses it never fails to inspire some emotion. When it gets down to business there is a really strong feeling of romanticism throughout which appears to be fuelled by the way everything seems so fantastical. Whether it’s the look, the dialogue or the plot, every thing feels as if it’s in a league just slightly more elegant than that of out own world, regardless of the seedy setting.
It seems that after spending 35 minutes in Rick’s and having much of the plot laid out over one evening, everything should start to feel a little long, but there are two things that really keep everything interesting. Firstly, there is the atmosphere of the bar. Rather than feeling like somebody standing outside looking through the window and seeing what’s going on, you feel much more like a customer of Rick’s and as such everything seems much more enjoyable. Second is the idea that everything keeps moving the plot forwards, wasting no time and as such it feels at times like a thriller in the way that you’re literally on the edge of your seat wondering how things are going to turn out next. It’s a simple plot element, but it’s one that really works in a way that is usually forgotten today.
When watching Casablanca, it’s pretty much impossible to pick out an actor who isn’t really up to much. It’s often considered that acting has improved through the years, but when watching Casablanca and seeing the real emotion translated through the actors it’s impossible to deny that the performances aren’t stunning even today. As such, there is also great chemistry between Bogart and Bergman.
Throughout, Casablanca frequently has scenes which just tug at the heartstrings. It’s difficult not to feel sorry for characters as they realise that the ideas of relationships that they had planned out just aren’t going to work, or have been scattered to the winds. It really sets the standard for all romance films, which is ironic because it really is a standard which doesn’t seem like it’s particularly easy or even possible to meet or improve upon.
There’s very little to be said about Casablanca that can really take away any of it’s greatness. Every film has faults but Casablanca has so few, it almost seems trivial mentioning them. Considering that the title town is frequently referred to in disgust, presumably because of the lack of morals surrounding the city and the petty criminals within, there is little but a couple of broad establishing shots with a few shady deals to emphasise the negativity. At times, Casablanca actually seems like a rather nice place to live and set up a business, which although only slightly, does hinder the poor appearance of such a hated city.
In the end, one of the strange things about Casablanca is that it is a rather simple love story surrounded by a very intricately woven plot that is as much to do with the Second World War as anything else. It shows how Rick is affected by his love returning to him and how when she’s near she lights a fuse of hatred within him for what she did but also makes him more compassionate as well.
Despite a few little issues with the setting of the city, there really is nothing that can stop Casablanca from being the greatest romance film ever. Strong performances all around and a great plot which has forever since been honoured, this really is a classic.
5/5
Friday, 13 April 2007
Philadelphia (1993)
Alright, here's how it is. Main review takes up a huge chunk of the blog. However, if you're looking for a quick synopsis of what I think, the bottom paragraph and mark out of 5 should suffice. Enjoy the review, or better yet: go see the film and enjoy that!
When Andrew Beckett (Tom Hanks) contracts AID’s and is promptly fired by his conservative law firm, he sets out to prove that he was fired because of his sexual orientation with the help of a homophobic small time lawyer.
Philadelphia starts out quite well. Everything seems happy, and generally, the mood is quite similar. Generally, there’s a positive atmosphere. We get to meet Mr Beckett, played to perfection (as ever) by Tom Hanks. Everything seems pretty perfect. But then suddenly, we find out that Beckett has AID’s. and about the same time he is revealed to have AID’s, he’s revealed to have been fired from a job he obviously excels at (he stays up working ‘till 10 fer chrissakes!) Obviously, something isn’t right.
Getting straight to the point: this film is now officially a period piece. I know that some people are still homophobic, but Philadelphia deals with homophobia in the early 90’s and the crisis of AID’s which just about everyone is now completely aware is very bad.
So, Beckett thinks he has a case, but because he’s dying of AID’s and everyone in the early 90’s was scared to death of anyone with this disease (or at least that’s what the film is trying to portray) he can’t get a lawyer. Naturally, he’s going to go to the token black lawyer Joe Miller (Denzel Washington) last. There’s this really fantastic scene where Beckett goes to Millers office and he has to say the words “I have AID’s…” That one moment in the entire film is completely priceless as both Hanks and Washington’s reactions are spot on.
Naturally, Miller is just as scared as everyone else is so he says no and this gives us the chance to explore a few other examples of prejudice. It’s only when Miller is thinks about the prejudice he throws towards Beckett that he realises, being black, he’s likely to be judged in exactly the same way. The best scene in the film is set in a library when Miller realises how the librarian feels about him as he walks past. And in the very same scene, is the most accurate portrayal of prejudice against gays when Beckett is asked if he’d ‘feel more comfortable’ in a private reading room. Once again, Hanks plays the role to perfection and the whole scene is incredibly awkward.
Everything plays out perfectly up until the trial. The scenes are interesting and the performances are great. But when the trial begins, the film unfortunately begins to fall apart.
Don’t get me wrong, the trial scenes are superb. They really strengthen my idea of Washington as a great actor. But because the film is about Beckett, and he really isn’t in a position to be saying much throughout the trial scenes, he has a lot of scenes devoted solely to him towards the end. In the early 90’s, seeing that a gay man was the same as any other individual would have been a great move to make, and would have put the film-makers in the gay rights activists good books. But it really does feel in these scenes like they’ve tried to hard. Tom Hanks cannot perform badly, but generally when not in court, the films writing seems shoddy. The screenplay is commendable only for the issues it raises because other than that, it feels a little bland. On top of that the direction doesn’t seem to exist. It almost feels as if everyone on set knew what they were doing and so director Jonathan Demme just sat back and watched them do it.
Despite this, the scenes with Beckett’s family are delightful and you almost feel as if you’re being welcomed into the family’s home thanks to the clever plot device of looking at things from the perspective of a handheld camera.
The opera scene is also very powerful and a very unconventional method of throwing in lighting to reflect the actors moods as opposed to what would be realistic really makes the scene strong.
Generally, the themes throughout the film are very strong and the entire cast (primary and supporting) are beyond perfect. It just seems to be let down slightly by the writing and direction.
Worth seeing for the performances, or if you want what I can only assume was a vaguely accurate portrayal of prejudice towards homosexuality and AID’s victims, but suffers as a film.
3/5
When Andrew Beckett (Tom Hanks) contracts AID’s and is promptly fired by his conservative law firm, he sets out to prove that he was fired because of his sexual orientation with the help of a homophobic small time lawyer.
Philadelphia starts out quite well. Everything seems happy, and generally, the mood is quite similar. Generally, there’s a positive atmosphere. We get to meet Mr Beckett, played to perfection (as ever) by Tom Hanks. Everything seems pretty perfect. But then suddenly, we find out that Beckett has AID’s. and about the same time he is revealed to have AID’s, he’s revealed to have been fired from a job he obviously excels at (he stays up working ‘till 10 fer chrissakes!) Obviously, something isn’t right.
Getting straight to the point: this film is now officially a period piece. I know that some people are still homophobic, but Philadelphia deals with homophobia in the early 90’s and the crisis of AID’s which just about everyone is now completely aware is very bad.
So, Beckett thinks he has a case, but because he’s dying of AID’s and everyone in the early 90’s was scared to death of anyone with this disease (or at least that’s what the film is trying to portray) he can’t get a lawyer. Naturally, he’s going to go to the token black lawyer Joe Miller (Denzel Washington) last. There’s this really fantastic scene where Beckett goes to Millers office and he has to say the words “I have AID’s…” That one moment in the entire film is completely priceless as both Hanks and Washington’s reactions are spot on.
Naturally, Miller is just as scared as everyone else is so he says no and this gives us the chance to explore a few other examples of prejudice. It’s only when Miller is thinks about the prejudice he throws towards Beckett that he realises, being black, he’s likely to be judged in exactly the same way. The best scene in the film is set in a library when Miller realises how the librarian feels about him as he walks past. And in the very same scene, is the most accurate portrayal of prejudice against gays when Beckett is asked if he’d ‘feel more comfortable’ in a private reading room. Once again, Hanks plays the role to perfection and the whole scene is incredibly awkward.
Everything plays out perfectly up until the trial. The scenes are interesting and the performances are great. But when the trial begins, the film unfortunately begins to fall apart.
Don’t get me wrong, the trial scenes are superb. They really strengthen my idea of Washington as a great actor. But because the film is about Beckett, and he really isn’t in a position to be saying much throughout the trial scenes, he has a lot of scenes devoted solely to him towards the end. In the early 90’s, seeing that a gay man was the same as any other individual would have been a great move to make, and would have put the film-makers in the gay rights activists good books. But it really does feel in these scenes like they’ve tried to hard. Tom Hanks cannot perform badly, but generally when not in court, the films writing seems shoddy. The screenplay is commendable only for the issues it raises because other than that, it feels a little bland. On top of that the direction doesn’t seem to exist. It almost feels as if everyone on set knew what they were doing and so director Jonathan Demme just sat back and watched them do it.
Despite this, the scenes with Beckett’s family are delightful and you almost feel as if you’re being welcomed into the family’s home thanks to the clever plot device of looking at things from the perspective of a handheld camera.
The opera scene is also very powerful and a very unconventional method of throwing in lighting to reflect the actors moods as opposed to what would be realistic really makes the scene strong.
Generally, the themes throughout the film are very strong and the entire cast (primary and supporting) are beyond perfect. It just seems to be let down slightly by the writing and direction.
Worth seeing for the performances, or if you want what I can only assume was a vaguely accurate portrayal of prejudice towards homosexuality and AID’s victims, but suffers as a film.
3/5
The Deer Hunter (1978)
Alright, here's how it is. Main review takes up a huge chunk of the blog. However, if you're looking for a quick synopsis of what I think, the bottom paragraph and mark out of 5 should suffice. Enjoy the review, or better yet: go see the film and enjoy that!
The Deer Hunter is a dark tale following the lives of a group of friends through their lives from marriage, to war, to death. Showing a grim and far more horrifying side to the Vietnam War than most others, this is a film that takes the violence and embraces it as an inevitable part of life.
Knowing that The Deer Hunter was a film about the war in Vietnam, the opening is surprising. It begins on a cold blue morning and shows some men working in a factory. There is no glamour put to their work. It’s a factory where the men work for their money. As a group of men leave the factory, they say their goodbyes to their colleagues and wander of down to the bar for a drink. The following 40 minutes are some of the strangest ever committed to celluloid. Put simply, it’s a wedding and an after party. But considering it’s a film that is about Vietnam, it feels remarkably out of place. It is more than likely just my expectations getting the better of me.
When looked at in its own right, the wedding is superbly played out. It’s apparent from the start that the town is quite a small one and this feeling of cosiness is emphasised superbly by some establishing shots showing everyone is focused on the wedding. Generally, the point is that it works.
When the after party kicks in, the film starts to seem more like a comedy than anything. Short of a scuffle between a couple of characters, it really is quite funny. Whilst watching the after-party and wedding scenes, it quite frankly does seem a little aimless. It feels almost as if it’s about to start dragging but when this happens, it suddenly manages to kick out something new to set somebody giggling.
Despite the feeling of aimlessness, the extended use of such a celebratory event does manage to grab hold of the audience and whether you like it or not, you start to care for the characters. That and any film that has Robert De Niro running down a street in just his underpants is destined for greatness.
As a slight interlude from the wedding there’s a few examples of genius location scouting. The mountains, for the titled Deer Hunt, are sheer awesomeness. The scenery is beautiful and it is very nearly difficult to keep track of the plot with such a fantastical locale constantly grabbing your attention.
There are few scenes in the film with really great dialogue because the film itself is generally such a realistic example of the Vietnam War. But there is one scene that is thoroughly believable up in the mountains with, what will forever be pondered as the greatest line in the movie: “Stanley, see this? This is this. This ain't something else. This is this. From now on, you're on your own.”
On paper, it’s a ridiculous line, but with De Niro speaking, it’s foolproof.
Michael Cimino thoroughly deserved his Best Director Oscar for this film as well. The aforementioned scene is just one example of perfect tension building, a convention of film which is relied upon heavily in this film and never fails to actually thrill the audience. Hell, it doesn’t thrill you, it actually scares you.
When Vietnam finally appears on screen, it doesn’t disappoint. Moments in, it shows exactly what the Americans where facing when a Vietnamese soldier finds a family in a hole and drops a grenade in there before running off. There’s no preparation for it and is so harsh it really grasps the audience. When you then see Michael Vronosky (Robert De Niro) torch the soldier alive, it really is visually powerful. It’s shocking partially because the film shows the brutality of the death so well, but mostly because for the past hour the audience has gotten used to Michael being a fun drunken fool, not a killing machine. The juxtaposition is completely undeniable and very hard to watch.
The tension is really built up throughout the Russian Roulette scenes. Quite simply, it has got to be up among the most disturbing pieces of cinema ever. That tension that Cimino knows how to drive up is pushed into over-drive. It really makes you wonder whether the real horror within the war was even within the conflict.
Christopher Walken is remarkable in The Deer Hunter. Even if you hadn’t felt anything throughout the film, his scenes really force you to feel something. The man oozes potential and he exploits that to an unbelievably stunning effect. It’s really no wonder that he’s one of the most respected actors in Hollywood today having put films such as this under his belt.
A deep theme within The Deer Hunter is the effect of the war on the soldiers as they return home. Whether it was handled well and how hard it must be to return straight to the comfort of one’s home after all the horror of the fighting. How as much as somebody might want things to be normal, people change their opinions of them and how everything would change.
In terms of film-making, the lighting throughout it superb to the extent that I was wondering if Candy Suxx was going to burst in with a machine gun and a rocket launcher strapped to her back. The music had a very unconventional approach and it certainly felt as if less was more. The music had a power to it which was that it took a back seat to the emotion of the characters.
The final scenes are nothing short of incredible as a brief look at the seedy side of Vietnam outside of the war and a climax to be remembered for decades to come. It really is quite harrowing and is actually an unpleasant experience to sit through.
Finally there is the ending which although unnecessary provides a real ending. It’s quiet and it’s painful, but there’s a raw happiness to it.
Harrowing and painful tale about the effects of the Vietnam War on people, as well as an honest look at the lives of people from before the war right through to their ways of coping upon returning home. Unbelievably powerful, if not a little long at the beginning. Worth seeing, but only for those who can stomach some real unpleasantness.
4/5
The Deer Hunter is a dark tale following the lives of a group of friends through their lives from marriage, to war, to death. Showing a grim and far more horrifying side to the Vietnam War than most others, this is a film that takes the violence and embraces it as an inevitable part of life.
Knowing that The Deer Hunter was a film about the war in Vietnam, the opening is surprising. It begins on a cold blue morning and shows some men working in a factory. There is no glamour put to their work. It’s a factory where the men work for their money. As a group of men leave the factory, they say their goodbyes to their colleagues and wander of down to the bar for a drink. The following 40 minutes are some of the strangest ever committed to celluloid. Put simply, it’s a wedding and an after party. But considering it’s a film that is about Vietnam, it feels remarkably out of place. It is more than likely just my expectations getting the better of me.
When looked at in its own right, the wedding is superbly played out. It’s apparent from the start that the town is quite a small one and this feeling of cosiness is emphasised superbly by some establishing shots showing everyone is focused on the wedding. Generally, the point is that it works.
When the after party kicks in, the film starts to seem more like a comedy than anything. Short of a scuffle between a couple of characters, it really is quite funny. Whilst watching the after-party and wedding scenes, it quite frankly does seem a little aimless. It feels almost as if it’s about to start dragging but when this happens, it suddenly manages to kick out something new to set somebody giggling.
Despite the feeling of aimlessness, the extended use of such a celebratory event does manage to grab hold of the audience and whether you like it or not, you start to care for the characters. That and any film that has Robert De Niro running down a street in just his underpants is destined for greatness.
As a slight interlude from the wedding there’s a few examples of genius location scouting. The mountains, for the titled Deer Hunt, are sheer awesomeness. The scenery is beautiful and it is very nearly difficult to keep track of the plot with such a fantastical locale constantly grabbing your attention.
There are few scenes in the film with really great dialogue because the film itself is generally such a realistic example of the Vietnam War. But there is one scene that is thoroughly believable up in the mountains with, what will forever be pondered as the greatest line in the movie: “Stanley, see this? This is this. This ain't something else. This is this. From now on, you're on your own.”
On paper, it’s a ridiculous line, but with De Niro speaking, it’s foolproof.
Michael Cimino thoroughly deserved his Best Director Oscar for this film as well. The aforementioned scene is just one example of perfect tension building, a convention of film which is relied upon heavily in this film and never fails to actually thrill the audience. Hell, it doesn’t thrill you, it actually scares you.
When Vietnam finally appears on screen, it doesn’t disappoint. Moments in, it shows exactly what the Americans where facing when a Vietnamese soldier finds a family in a hole and drops a grenade in there before running off. There’s no preparation for it and is so harsh it really grasps the audience. When you then see Michael Vronosky (Robert De Niro) torch the soldier alive, it really is visually powerful. It’s shocking partially because the film shows the brutality of the death so well, but mostly because for the past hour the audience has gotten used to Michael being a fun drunken fool, not a killing machine. The juxtaposition is completely undeniable and very hard to watch.
The tension is really built up throughout the Russian Roulette scenes. Quite simply, it has got to be up among the most disturbing pieces of cinema ever. That tension that Cimino knows how to drive up is pushed into over-drive. It really makes you wonder whether the real horror within the war was even within the conflict.
Christopher Walken is remarkable in The Deer Hunter. Even if you hadn’t felt anything throughout the film, his scenes really force you to feel something. The man oozes potential and he exploits that to an unbelievably stunning effect. It’s really no wonder that he’s one of the most respected actors in Hollywood today having put films such as this under his belt.
A deep theme within The Deer Hunter is the effect of the war on the soldiers as they return home. Whether it was handled well and how hard it must be to return straight to the comfort of one’s home after all the horror of the fighting. How as much as somebody might want things to be normal, people change their opinions of them and how everything would change.
In terms of film-making, the lighting throughout it superb to the extent that I was wondering if Candy Suxx was going to burst in with a machine gun and a rocket launcher strapped to her back. The music had a very unconventional approach and it certainly felt as if less was more. The music had a power to it which was that it took a back seat to the emotion of the characters.
The final scenes are nothing short of incredible as a brief look at the seedy side of Vietnam outside of the war and a climax to be remembered for decades to come. It really is quite harrowing and is actually an unpleasant experience to sit through.
Finally there is the ending which although unnecessary provides a real ending. It’s quiet and it’s painful, but there’s a raw happiness to it.
Harrowing and painful tale about the effects of the Vietnam War on people, as well as an honest look at the lives of people from before the war right through to their ways of coping upon returning home. Unbelievably powerful, if not a little long at the beginning. Worth seeing, but only for those who can stomach some real unpleasantness.
4/5
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