Archive for David Solomons

“We’re gonna need a bigger goat.”

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 8, 2009 by dcairns


The above line is copyright a guy called David Solomons. So please forgive him for writing FIVE CHILDREN AND IT.

But our subject today is a different fairy tale, one by Sam Raimi. It’s about a magic button that can transport you to an enchanted kingdom. Called Hell.

But should Sam’s movie, DRAG ME TO HELL, be called DON’T DRAG ME TO HELL? Anyhow, as everyone will tell you, it’s a more-funny-than-scary thrill-ride full of bodily fluids and things that go bump. It’s also rather ethnically insensitive in its stereotyping of gypsies as curse-giving harpies and drunken revelers. One sympathetic gypsy, that’s all I’m asking.

Since nobody seems to be shouting about the film’s borrowing from Jacques Tourneur and Charles Bennett’s NIGHT OF THE DEMON, by way of MR James’s source story The Casting of the Runes, Fiona wants me to point this out, particularly how the film’s climax shows a character caught between a pursuing demon and an oncoming train. The idea of the object that dooms its owner to hell and must be passed on to some other poor victim also appears in Robert Louis Stevenson’s tale The Bottle Imp (filmed by me, not too skillfully, some years ago). 

If there was something missing here, and I felt there was, it was a lead character in tune with the hyperkinetic ‘toon slam-bang of Raimi’s action sequences. Bruce Campbell in the EVIL DEAD films is popular precisely because he makes everything funnier. Alison Lohman’s casting here is supposed to evoke sympathy, which seems at odds with the film’s gleeful splattering and battering of the poor protag. The film’s second act is basically a serious of savage beatings and facials. It’s in keeping with the kitten-slaughtering gimmick, admittedly, since Lohman’s chief attribute on display is perkiness and wide-eyed naivety. But torturing a cutie-pie may be entertaining to some people on some level but I don’t know how funny it is. Bruce Campbell always engaged the audience in a strange way so that they shared his sense of the ridiculousness of his ordeals. Maybe Lohman could have done some of that, but she certainly hasn’t been required to.

Lorna Raver (!) is suitably vile as the Romany hell-hag, Bojana Novakovic is striking as her grand-daughter, and Dileep Rao underplays nicely as a mystic who keeps saying “Yes,” in a calm voice. But the trouble with underplaying in a Raimi movie is that he kind of lets the air out of every scene that isn’t a ghost-train/abattoir action set-piece. The performances don’t seem to quite connect with each other, the words dying in the sound stage vacuum between the actors: a thin murmur of post-dubbed atmos is piped in to fill the gaps, but blank spaces seem to yawn between each shot, Peter Deeming’s photography seems overlit, especially compared to what he achieved on LOST HIGHWAY, and CG shadows are a poor substitute for the real thing.

Borrowing from his SPIDERMAN franchise a little, Raimi fills the screen with CGI (another MR James adaptation, Jonathan Miller’s TV play Whistle and I’ll Come to You shows that a mere piece of floating fabric can be truly terrifying, but it must be real fabric) and gets the heroine wet. Because that’s the way to a fanboy’s heart. 

Still, Fiona and I somewhat enjoyed the film, possibly because the central romance between a cute girl and a nerdy guy sort of resonated with us for some reason.

Now I’m off to shoot my low-budget remake, DRAG ME OVER THERE. It’ll be quite short.

Nic of Time

Posted in FILM, literature, MUSIC, Politics with tags , , , , , , , on April 4, 2008 by dcairns

Sung by Tom Robinson, written by Robinson and Peter Gabriel. Directed by Nicolas Roeg. Think of it as a little unknown movie by the maestro Roeg. Hey, it’s better than FULL BODY MASSAGE. And you can certainly see Roegian themes and concerns and techniques at play in it. I was a little doubtful when it suddenly went all “video technique” at the end, but in fact the FX are used with taste and aren’t inappropriate at all.

Strangely, I know a few people associated with the Great Man. Screenwriter David Solomons (5 CHILDREN AND IT) was hired to write a first draft script based on the life of a German WWI hero who was sent to Auschwitz during WWII, never to be seen again. Roeg’s regular script collaborator Allan Scott was producing.

If you’ve ever seen Roeg interviewed, you’ll have noticed his tendency to burble away in a semi-coherent fashion, like THIS GUY, occasionally coming out with an unheralded flash of brilliance. I asked David S about this, and he sort of agreed. Apparently one of Roeg’s big ideas was that this film was “the ultimate story of man’s inhumanity to man.”


David S was faced with a problem. The real-life personage on whom this film was to be based had a very heavily-documented life. Mountains of research had to be digested. But at the moment he vanished behind the gates of Auschwitz, nothing whatever is known of his fate — although we certainly know enough about what happened to other people in that annexe of hell.

The script wasn’t getting written. Finally David S steeled himself, told himself the research was done and the only thing to do was to begin work on the actual writing, he opened a document in Final Draft — and the phone rang.

Call Me

Roeg: “I just wanted to say that, the more I think about it, the more I feel this IS the ultimate story of man’s inhumanity to man.”

Roegs rings off and then David stares at the blank screen computer until his forehead bleeds.

Deep Red