Archive for Ian McKellen

T.P.

Posted in FILM, literature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 23, 2017 by dcairns

Yes, enjoying Talking Pictures thanks very much. First heard about this new free cable channel when at the conference in London the other week. It’s up past Film4 so I might never have clicked onto it if I hadn’t had reason to suspect its presence. It arrived with no publicity, like a B-picture in the night.

But it’s not a B-picture channel — the real attraction is the quota quickies. The schedule is simply stuffed with British obscurities. We watched MRS. PYM OF SCOTLAND YARD (1940) which stars Mary Clare from ON THE NIGHT OF THE FIRE though sadly she doesn’t play her smart female detective the way she did her crazy street person in that film (“Ah-ahh-aaahhh-I’m gonna SCREAM!!!”). The plot involves a phony medium and murder by vacuum cleaner. It also features a nubile Irene Handle. 29 years old. You ain’t never had no Irene like that. And Nigel Patrick, doing his fast-talking thing that he did.

On first discovering the channel I set my box to record highlights of the next week’s airings, and a couple of days later we started watching. I think we watched five films. “They’re going to find us covered in cobwebs,” said Fiona.

Fiona got sucked into A TOUCH OF LOVE, a thick slice of Margaret Drabble from 1969 with Sandy Dennis doing an excellent English accent. She was waiting to see a nubile Ian McKellen, and by the time he turned up as a randy TV presenter, she had to know what happened next, a problem few seem to have had back in the day. Waris Hussein, an interesting guy with an interesting career, sadly does not look to be actually an interesting director on the basis of this one. Eleanor Bron cemented the sense of middle-class ennui, if one can cement a sense, and if anyone can it’s Eleanor.

There was a short consisting of Algernon Blackwood clubbishly narrating his worst ever story to, persistently, the wrong camera — I was in heaven. There was BITTER HARVEST, which I’d actually heard of and wanted to see — a 1963 adaptation of Patrick Hamilton’s 20,000 Streets Under the Sky. God it was dreadful. In fairness, Peter Graham Scott directed with expressive gusto (usually misplace) and you could see they were trying to make a Bardot out of the perky Janet Munro, which could have worked if they hadn’t converted Hamilton’s low-key melancholy into a prurient-yet-moralising Road to Ruin farrago. Alan Badel was supposed to turn up as a smutty toff, so I had to watch, but we got a framed picture of him in scene one and then he didn’t appear in person until about ten minutes from the end. As with the Drabble, the terrible title should have been a warning.

Best of this batch was probably COSH BOY (known in America as THE SLASHER) , a 1953 juvie crime epic directed by Lewis Gilbert. The violence is nearly all off-camera. James Kenney is impressively loathsome, except a bit of charm or enjoyable menace might have made the thing more watchable. It’s like having Andy Robinson’s Scorpio killer as your lead character, although the movie keeps backing away from having anyone badly hurt. It promises mayhem and then in the next scene it’ll turn out that, oh, that night watchman was only slightly injured by the bullet to the chest. It’s like the padre scene of IF…. going on forever. Kenney does do some Oscar-worthy snivelling when his comeuppance is to hand, and we get a fair amount of screen time devoted to a teenage Joan Collins, talking in her natural cock-er-knee accent.

COSH BOY backwards is pronounced YOB SHOCK.

Be sure to watch this channel if you have it. I don’t know if their business model — showing mostly forgotten rubbish — is really workable, but I sure hope so. You also get Chaplins, Wylers, Laurel & Hardys and Ken Russells thrown into the mix, so it’s not like it’s all just impressive for its obscurity. But the stuff that’s got me gripped is that dredged from the murky sumps of British cinema. I guess I’m just born bad — with a talent for trouble! Seeking sensations at any cost!

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Short People

Posted in FILM, literature, MUSIC, Mythology, Science, Television with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 21, 2012 by dcairns

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

“Shit just got unreal” was my Facebook comment on THE HOBBIT Part The First, which is perhaps a little unfair. The merits and demerits of the movie, the franchise, Peter Jackson the filmmaker and the faster frame rate and the RED camera all deserve a slightly more nuanced discussion than those four words.

I liked it better than Fiona! In some ways it has the same flaws as the LORD OF THE RINGS films before it, only amplified. And the 3D and 48 fps may be problematic in the same way that the digital effects in the STAR WARS prequels were problematic — they make the film seem less of a piece with its predecessors. But THE HOBBIT isn’t as bad as THE PHANTOM MENACE, let’s get that straight…

(Maybe Jackson should have shot at 24 and projected at 48, thereby making the film half as long?)

I enjoyed some of the action and settings, and the HFR probably allowed me to follow the fights and chase more readily than I could otherwise — Jackson tended to film too close in LORD OF THE RINGS, making close-up skirmishes dissolve into blurry chaos. Either because he’s improved or the technology has helped solve the issue, that didn’t happen here. I didn’t enjoy the performances as much. LOTR uses “epic acting,” big, bombastic, cod-Shakespearean and borderline campy, but much of it was done with skill and a kind of good taste. Here, I felt the usually reliable Ian McKellen was huffing and chuntering to himself too much, and he didn’t seem to have any other characters to talk to. Among the dwarves, Ken Stott, James Nesbitt and Aidan Turner managed to get some human interaction going with Martin Freeman’s Bilbo (some reality but too much schtick), the rest were basically flatulent garden gnomes. Richard Armitage doesn’t manage to make anything convincing or interesting out of Thorin Oakenshield’s bluster and grouch.

THE HOBBIT: AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY

I’m told that McKellen had to act his scene at the dinner table with a bunch of paper cut-out heads on sticks, with light bulbs that flashed on to signal when each character was speaking so he could look in the right direction. I would, on the whole, far rather see that version of the scene. Those character designs are not very appealing! Why does only one dwarf bear any resemblance to John Rhys-Davies in LOTR, who had a very detailed and specific and non-Disney look? Why does one dwarf have a bald head with what looks like a bar code on it? One looks like a waxwork of Finlay Currie, one Sean Penn, and several of them have shoelaces for hair. Not a good look.

But the reason I went, and was excited to go, was the 48 frames thing. I’d heard so much about how horrible it was, I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t picture a big expensive epic that moved like a cheap TV show, and I was fascinated to see what that would be like — it was sure to be interesting! I got a lot of intellectual pleasure trying to describe that awful Zemeckis mo-cap BEOWULF, so I just couldn’t wait.

It was indeed a very interesting thing to see. It may have had invisible benefits to action and movement which we’d only be aware of if comparing directly with a 24fps version, but it did some spectacular uglifying. Some people have compared it to cheap soap operas, to demo reels, but what I was reminded of was a making-of documentary. There you see the actors, fully costumed and made up, on set, delivering dialogue — and it’s not the same as the movie, because it’s filmed with the wrong camera, and you don’t feel part of the action the way you do in a film, you feel like an observer on the set. It’s very REAL, for sure, because the sense of cinema is stripped away, but this exposes every bit of artifice in the design and presentation and performance. Even Howard Shore’s music seemed weirdly wrong, as if it was being piped into the hobbit hole.

This applied mainly to the Bag End scene and other conversations. The only acting scene that really worked was the “Riddles in the Dark” confrontation with Gollum, which was great and I think one would have to be pretty curmudgeonly or else just averse to any kind of halfling-based performance piece to dislike. Oh, and Sylvester McCoy was good when he was on his own, acting with CGI hedgehogs.

The long shots looked mostly OK, I thought, and still scenes were fine. The action had a verité feel that made me think something like CLOVERFIELD might be good at 48fps. I wondered if the dragon attack would gain any of the feeling of real disaster footage, like 9:11 or the tsunami, but the swooping filming style didn’t allow for that. There was a very weird clash of feelings when Jackson intercut the big subterranean goblin chase with Bilbo’s one-one-one struggles with Gollum — Gollum’s last sequence had a particularly televisual quality, like a 70s Outside Broadcast Unit section from Dr Who — those plastic-looking caves. And then Gollum would crawl into shot and there’d be the thrill of the impossible — a modern CGI character who couldn’t be played by a man in a suit and who looks very convincing, appearing in the background of a fake cave that looks like part of actuality footage shot forty years ago with a tube camera. Not an effect that I think was intentional, or desirable, except that it was so damned odd it gave me a lot of pleasure.

THE HOBBIT: AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY

What I’m saying is that although I did get somewhat used to the process over the nearly three hour running time, I was still blown out of the movie by it repeatedly, right up until the end. If the movie had seemed like a masterpiece, that would have been hugely frustrating, but as it was only a middling Middle Earth epic, I was actually entertained by my own on-again-off-again disengagement. I mildly enjoyed the big fight at the end, but not as much as I enjoyed the High Weirdness of megabudget + cheapness. I was a bit frustrated by the lack of wagon wheels, though: apparently at a higher frame rate they not longer seem to turn backwards, as they do at 24fps. Jackson cruelly robbed me of the chance to finally see correct spin.

Remembering the troubles people had with early sound and widescreen, we shouldn’t be too hard on any problems Jackson’s encountering — maybe our eyes will simply retrain our brains and the associations with crappy video will fall away and the merits of the new technology will become obvious. But for now, I say enjoy the weirdness — you won’t have had an experience like this before.