Archive for Elle Fanning

A break from the norm

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 6, 2016 by dcairns

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I felt kind of guilty that I hadn’t hurried to catch up with Francis Ford Coppola’s YOUTH WITHOUT YOUTH and TETRO when they were new. I kind of bailed on him after Francis Ford Coppola’s BRAM STOKER’S DRACULA, and saw no reason to bother with JACK or THE RAINMAKER. Uncle Francis was going to get paid whether I saw them or not, so they’d served their purpose. But I intended to give him another chance when he came back with more personal films, I just… never got around to it.

But now I’ve seen TWIXT and am right puzzled. Written by FFC himself, and proudly bearing the American Zoetrope logo, it seems like a personal project. And indeed it incorporates a tragic incident from Coppola’s life, the death of his son in a boating accident (here rendered as the death of a daughter because, as Poe says here, that makes it more poetical). But what it is, is a hoaky, creaky, incoherent gothic fantasy that plays like cut scenes from a video game and feels like it was written by an eight-year-old. Now, that may sound like a knock. In fact, even as it suffers from all these problems, it has some of the dopey charm of cut scenes and children’s writing: naivety can be attractive.

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The thing starts with considerable assurance: a spooky Tom Waits voice-over will kick anything off nicely. And the images of the small town are very atmospheric without, for the most part, pushing it: visually, the film is often splendid, with digitally manipulated night scenes that evoke Bava and Freda. As the movie goes on, the stuff set in “reality” becomes more and more laughably unconvincing, but the fantastical stuff has a bit of Lynchian weirdness and, although nothing in the movie makes proper sense, there are bits that seem to link up in an irrational, dreamlike way.

It feels harsh to criticise Coppola for using a personal tragedy in his story — after all, it’s his personal tragedy. He should be free to use it if he wants to. But it felt unresolved, unconnected, and curiously unfelt — maybe because we first see a photo of the dead child right after Kilmer’s done a Brando impersonation in a (quite funny) improv writer’s block bit.

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The acting is all over the shop. Val Kilmer works hard to anchor it. It’s lovely to see his ex-wife, Joanne Whalley, here playing his current wife — but she doesn’t convince in her bitchier moments. She’s just too nice. Then there’s Bruce Dern as Sheriff Bob LaGrange, who Coppola clearly believes can do no wrong. I saw Dern in Telluride talk to Leonard Maltin about his work in NEBRASKA, and giving a pared-down performance without any of his trademark “Dernsies.” Well, I think all the Dernsies ended up in this film. It’s a performance made entirely of Dernsies. Waste not, want not. I love Bruce Dern, he is an international treasure. But when he gives his name as “BOB LaGrrrraaaange!!!” he probably could have benefited from some direction. Who gets that excited about their own name? I think you can see similar stuff going on with Anthony Hopkins in DRAC, he keeps getting more ridiculous, waiting for the moment when his director will say, “Okay, maybe that was a little too much…” but the moment never comes.

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Oh, we also get Alden Ehrenreich, a Coppola discovery. He plays a ridiculous, Baudelaire-quoting vampire goth biker called Flamingo, and is as good as anyone could be under such circs. Ben Chaplin plays Edgar Allen Poe with an English accent, an odd/lazy choice. But he looks the part. Handsome yet still strongly Poe-like. And I always feel a burst of enthusiasm from somewhere or other when this guy shows up, a bit like with Rufus Sewell, you know? A Rufus Sewell kind of a feeling.

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I’m told, and it may not be true, that when Coppola screened DEMENTIA 13, his first attempt at the Gothic, for his producer, Roger Corman, a man not given to loud displays of emotion, Corman snapped a pencil. Which would be like a bomb going off, from Corman. So he got Jack Hill to rescue it. My own pencil-snapping moment came right at the end of this one, when it became clear that nothing was going to wrap up satisfactorily, that Coppola didn’t have a clue how to end the story, that he’d been making it up as he went along and filmed a first draft. And let’s be clear — it’s OK to end a movie with text on the screen saying what happened to the characters IF THEY’RE REAL. Or if you’re being funny. Coppola is clearly being funny some of the time here, but he doesn’t seem to have made a clear decision about when.

 

Midnight Movie

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , on September 22, 2012 by dcairns

Caught up with JJ Abrams’ SUPER 8.

(JJ Abrams movies may be what rental is for.)

But I’m favourably disposed to him, really. And actually glad I saw his STAR TREK on the big screen, where the audience reaction was delightful. I’ll totally see the sequel.

Peter O’Toole cameo (left).

Abrams channels the Spielberg of CLOSE ENCOUNTERS and ET well, but I disliked the faux-camera-flare and missed the grain. And also, Spielberg has been heavily absorbed by US filmmakers already, so there’s recognition without the shock when it’s done more self-consciously, as in “this is a retro statement” rather than “this is what we consider the acme of American cinema” which is the kind of attitude I get from those MUMMY films…

The story is fine, though I wished it were weirder: real UFO stories are WEIRD. The period feel didn’t really come alive for me, and oddly, the Super-8 film element wasn’t important to the story. Some kids are making a zombie film when they accidentally film a train accident in which a crashed alien, held prisoner for years by the government, escapes. But the accidental filming part isn’t really a big plot point, when you get to it. A shame, since it shouldn’t have been hard to get a BLOW UP thing going on.

Hey, it’s Glynn Turman — from JD’S REVENGE! — as whistleblowing science teacher Mr Woodward (easy Watergate reference). As we know from Breaking Bad, science teachers are bad-ass.

As the spectacle and crisis mounts, the film goes for emotion but doesn’t quite nail it, despite Elle Fanning being particularly good. I think this is because we don’t quite know how to feel about the big alien — he’s more sinned against than sinning but he does kill a lot of innocent people. And eat them. Even in Act III. There’s something nice about the film’s desire to make us consider things from an enemy alien’s point of view, and ask how these hostiles got to be so hostile — good liberal allegory work there — but it’s inimical to the simplicity Spielbergian emotion seems to require. And Abrams still has a weakness for gestural emotion, where characters throw away or let go things that they’ve grown out of. Never actually convinces or moves us. Gloria Stuart chucking that diamond away in TITANIC has a lot to answer for.

But as the extraterrestrial shit hits the fan and Spielbergian classicism melds with Abrams’ more chaotic, modern feel, one positive thing is that the funny lines play funnier amid the frenzy, so it’s a pretty good time. Just not, somehow, satisfying.

But the Super-8 film-within-the film is great ~