Archive for David Thomson

The Complete History of Kinema #1

Posted in FILM with tags , , , on April 8, 2011 by dcairns

Part One — The Movies Begin.

Projection of the Lumiere brothers’ TRAIN ARRIVING AT A STATION causes audiences to panic —

Like Mark Cousins (The Story of Film) and David Thomson (The Whole Equation), I’ve decided to create a complete cinematic history of everything. Unlike them, I’m doing it in strip cartoon form. Nevertheless, every detail is guaranteed accurate, unlike with those other guys.

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Cheap Shots

Posted in FILM, literature with tags , , , , , , on January 11, 2010 by dcairns

Our friend David Wingrove drew our attention to David Thomson’s Guardian obit of Jennifer Jones, which he thought in rather poor taste. I’d read David Edelstein’s rather vile obit of Brittany Murphy so nothing could shock me. But as David says, the striking thing about this piece is that it’s all about how Jones refused to be interviewed by Thomson for his Selznick bio. Jones is judged and condemned on those grounds alone. Consider:

“Well, she’s dead now, at 90. Gore Vidal told me maybe 10 years ago how he’d recently had dinner with Jennifer Jones and complimented her on … her looks? Her cooking? Her jokes? Never mind now. But she did tell him that she was actually three years older than her official age. So was she 93 or 90? What’s the difference if you hardly recognise anyone any longer and if you prefer not to talk to the biographer of the husband who named you Jennifer Jones, who got you your Oscar and turned your life into such a melodrama?”

What does that paragraph boil down to? The last sentence — “What’s the difference” ie “Why should we care about you?” “if you prefer not to talk to etc” ie “if you won’t talk to me?” Pretty incredible. I think it would’ve been nice if Jones had shared her memories with Thomson, and it might have made for a fascinating addition to film history. But I don’t believe she owed those memories to anybody or any such nonsense — they were her own, private, to do with as she pleased.

I think the reason that paragraph reads so snooty and self-important is that Thomson is just not that careful any more what he writes. It pains me to say this, because my contact with Mr T, when I sent him a copy of LA FIN DU JOUR in hopes of changing his mind about Julien Duvivier, was entirely pleasant and I found him gracious and charming. Asked to write something about Thomson’s new book, The Moment of Psycho: How Hitchcock Taught America to Love Murder, I shied away, because looking at the opening pages on Amazon I found them disturbingly shaky. For a while Thomson has seemed rather middlebrow in his tastes, his skills as a writer exceeding his verve as a thinker, but now his prose itself is starting to slacken. Consider ~

“People liked his films: in the fifties Strangers on a Train, Dial M for Murder, Rear Window, To Catch a Thief, The Man Who Knew Too Much, and North by Northwest had all been hits, suspense stories served with the black cream of Hitchcock’s humor.”

That image: black cream. Ugh! And WTF? It won’t do, on a basic level. I’ll pass over with merely a snide snicker the passages in his book on The Aliens Quartet which devolve into an extended sexual fantasy about Sigourney Weaver eating strawberries and cream without a top on — we can put that down to male menopause. What ties together the ugly thought unintentionally revealed in the Jones obit with the casually askew imagery of the Hitchcock piece is a lack of care. Thomson has more or less admitted he doesn’t care so much about movies as he used to* — maybe he should find something he can write about passionately. Something needs to happen.

*His dismissal of Abbas Kiarostami based on a screening of one movie would be enough to confirm this even if he hadn’t come out and said it.

Correspondence

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , on November 15, 2008 by dcairns

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‘interesting fact: if you google “david cairns”, shadowplay comes out at the bottom of the page; if you google “christina alepi”, shadowplay is the first result. (!) Typing my own name is the quickest way to get to your blog (after bookmarking, but it can’t beat googling my OWN NAME!)’
~ Christina Alepi, via Facebook.

A few things happening with the old email and Facebook, which I just joined in a spirit of “Why not?” Maybe once I year I do something daft like that: about a year ago I started a blog. Yep, Shadowplay celebrates her birthday on December 1st. Will have to think of some special way to mark it. Suggestions welcome.

Some time back I got one of the few bits of negative commentary I’ve had here, after reviewing a depressing British horror “comedy” called THE COTTAGE. I’ve tended to avoid trashing stuff most of the time, since it’s nice to be nice and it seems more interesting to find the exciting or strange bits of films and pare away the dull stuff, but when it comes to modern British cinema I sometimes get a bit upset. Anyhow, the piece attracted an irked comment from someone pretty obviously connected with the movie, but I never knew who. But when I joined Facebook, it swept through my emails looking for contacts, and suddenly identified the commenter as actor Reece Shearsmith, one of the stars of the film. Mystery solved!

Not sure how I feel about this, since I’m a fan of the first two series of The League of Gentlemen, and would have said at least some nice things about THE LEAGUE OF GENTLEMEN’S APOCALYPSE, which seemed an honorable attempt to do something interesting in British cinema. So it’s not like Shearsmith was ever on my shitlist. (Do I have a shitlist? Note to self: compile shitlist.) I may have said something about his performance in THE COTTAGE not quite working, but that’s kind of the same as calling him a flawless genius, since the rest of the film doesn’t work the way a dead horse doesn’t work as an air freshener.

More pleasant correspondence: after the excellent Charles Drazin suggested I contact David Thomson and let him in on The Great Duvivier Giveaway, my scheme to reshape the movie canon, in hopes of getting him to change his mind about Julien Duvivier and maybe rewrite his rather critical piece in The Biographical Dictionary of Film, I wrote to Thomson with a disc of LA FIN DU JOUR, and received this very charming reply:

Dear Mr Cairns,

I was touched to receive your letter and the DVD of La Fin du Jour.  On the spot, I proposed you to the House of Edinburgh Saints (your only fellow there is Mark Cousins – maybe you know each other).

[We do.]

As it happens, yours is not the first plea on behalf of Duvivier. The other one came from no less than Stephen Sondheim (at the Telluride Film Festival). So I am re-examining the matter, and I am very grateful to you for the prompting.

More to come, I’m sure.

All good wishes

David Thomson

So I seem to be in good company. I wonder, if you’re David Thomson, if you’re constantly getting grabbed by bloggers and composers and bums off the street who want to convert you to the cause of John Ford or Tony Richardson or William Wyler?

Makes me think I’m lucky I only have the cast of THE COTTAGE to contend with.

In other news: I was vaguely thinking of starting Borzage Week in a week’s time, but since I have a number of pieces all ready and nothing else to post of any substance, I’m bringing it forward to Monday 17th. That’ll still give us time to invent something suitably exciting for December 1st.