Fight Club

Trying to explain or review Fight Club is a little like trying to explain the physical properties of a black hole. It’s extremely complex, it requires way more than 500 words to appreciate the enormity of, there are innumerable components of thought behind it and it may never be fully understood. Ever.    

Continuing this black hole analogy, Fight Club is all about a breakdown of logic, and as regular science doesn’t apply to black holes, so it seems regular scripting doesn’t apply to Fight Club. That’s not to say irregularity hasn’t served Fight Club well. It’s pretty rare that a movie with overt existentialism at its roots is so effective in its delivery. How many movies can get away with leaving it open to debate as to whether one of the main characters ever existed or indeed was a mental fabrication of a deluded schizophrenic?  

That however is Fight Club all over and I have to say, it’s extremely effective. I like how the movie starts relatively normally (relative being the optimum word throughout this movie!) with a progression towards the strange and abnormal through the character Jack’s (Edward Norton) decision to attend therapy classes for illnesses or problems he does not have to help cure his insomnia. The film then becomes progressively more surreal with Jack’s introduction to Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt) and the pair’s decision to set-up private ‘Fight-Clubs’ to vent their inner frustration at the boredom that comes with modernity for them.  

This in itself asks a pretty interesting question about what makes people tick. The idea that self-destruction is more of an effective form of motivation than self-improvement is a pretty interesting concept. The film does actually make you wonder how far you could push this in the real world. The scene where Jack beats himself up in his boss’ office and frames his manager almost has shades of the more extreme, fairly recent incidents where people have faked their own deaths to claim insurance benefit. A form of self-destruction that even Tyler Durden would have approved of.      

There are some aspects of Fight Club that perhaps push the boundaries a little too far. The destruction of the ten or so capitalist buildings at the end of the movie is seemingly portrayed as the end of the modern world. In reality losing one office block would be a minor inconvenience to a global corporate bank rather than a business-ending scenario. Whilst the film is designed to make us question how we think and accept our place in the modern world, I think Fight Club slightly overlooks the fact that people are fundamentally selfish and on the lookout for themselves. In this instance it’s slightly hard to place how Tyler Durden’s criminal organisation would come to fruition and indeed how slick it ended up being in the hands of essentially the world’s most disorganised man. 

These are however minor criticisms of a movie that was bold and brash in every sense and seems to raise a new question about normality with every passing second of the film. Like a black hole, this movie absorbs you whether you like it or not. It will throw you out the other side with big questions  and definitely will make you rethink how and what a movie should be.              

The Talented Mr. Ripley

“The Talented Mr Ripley? Yeah that’s a great film. My housemate only likes to watch it when she’s angry. In fact, I’m not allowed to watch it unless she’s in a really bad mood.”   

It’s the sort of comment that Patricia Highsmith (whose novel the film is based upon) would no doubt have loved. This (arguably) for her would denote her physiological thriller had hit the right chord. From an author well respected for creating impressive works of literature that suffuse complex characters with impressive plots, making a film version of The Talented Mr. Ripley was never going to be an easy ride.  

But as I chat the film over with a friend, this unexpected insight into the dynamic of my mate’s household has thrown me. Should the end product of the movie The Talented Mr. Ripley really be some sort of therapeutic means of dealing with a particularly bad day at the office?    

Clearly the film does not full short in the ‘let’s kill everyone off’ department. Whichever way you analyse it, there’s almost nobody left by the end of the film. In getting from this A to a rather blood-stained B there are some fairly memorable death scenes. The murder of Dickie Greenleaf (Jude Law) by his pal Thomas Ripley (Matt Damon) using the unusual implement of an oar certainly sticks in the mind. For me it is actually probably one of the few week moments of the film (Jude Law’s face seems to unaccountably explode with the force of the oar’s impact) in what is an otherwise superb, if slightly sinister movie.  

What I particularly liked about this film was the outstanding performance of not just one but 5 members of the cast. Although all had enjoyed success prior to 1999 when The Talented Mr. Ripley was released, it’s not difficult to see why these 5 went on to be A-list stars of the ‘naughties’ era. Matt Damon and Jude Law might as well be brothers their on-screen relationship is so tight and their portrayal in the film creates a wonderful sense of mystery as to what emotions lurk beneath the surface of these two characters.  

Philip Seymouth Hoffman gets it just right as the pompous, rich and eventually suspicious best-friend of Dickie Greenleaf. Cate Blanchett puts in a great performance as the love-obsessed Meredith Logue. Even Gwyneth Paltrow (who I’d be the first to say I’m not the greatest fan of) is exceptional, making me seriously question why she got caught up in some pretty diabolical movies like Sliding Doors  

So was my friend’s housemate correct? Is this a film confined only to resolving ‘bad-days’ where we all want to smash an expensive Roman marble statue over someone’s head as Thomas Ripley does in the film. I can’t say I would prescribe this picture for that purpose, but if you want to see a film that’s brilliantly acted, filmed in exceptional locations across Europe and exudes the charm of early 1950’s, this movie is as good as any to watch.       

 

 

 

 

 

Whisky Galore!

What is a classic movie? In a world where there have been literally hundreds of thousands of movie productions what gives a particular film the right to enjoy the lofty title of ‘classic’?  

I ask the question because my choice of movie this week is something I would never have otherwise watched if it hadn’t been introduced on BBC 4 as being a ‘classic.’ 82 minutes later as the movie of choice ‘Whisky Galore’ reached its conclusion, I was still asking myself the same question.

To all intents and purposes, ‘Whisky Galore’ has the hallmarks of a ‘classic’ film. Shot in 1948 and based on the real-life 1941 shipwreck of the S.S.Politician near the island of Eriskay, the film details the unauthorised taking of its cargo of whisky. The cinematography is wonderfully constructed and in black and white the movie conveys all the character of a post-war film, with lots of images of the beautiful Scottish Islands where the film is set.  

There’s also the hugely over-the-top screenplay to go with the movie. With almost every shot an exuberant, if slightly over enthusiastic orchestra fires up to accompany the on-screen action. Then there’s the very loveable cast of eccentric islanders, whose shared addiction to whisky drives them to the extremes of stealing the whisky cargo upon the abandoned vessel. You can see from this strong cast that a number of films have heavily borrowed from this set-up, in particular Local Hero which is often heralded as being a champion (indeed BAFTA award-winning) portrayal of life in Western Scotland.  

There’ also the somewhat dated values inherent in both the period and remote region of the film’s setting. Although a rather cruel caricature, you can’t help but laugh and love the portrayal of Mrs Campbell, who is so infuriated by her son’s decision to ask another female character to marry him without consulting her first that she grounds him. When the Home Guard officer Captain Waggett comes looking for him to report for work, she responds curtly

“He's locked in his bedroom with his Bible and some bread and cheese, and he'll not be out until tomorra' morning”.  

Yet despite all this, I wasn’t won over by the idea of ‘Whisky Galore’ being a classic. The plot, though funny wasn’t hilarious and there was so little story the movie could easily have been condensed into 45 minutes. The film felt more like an opportunistic take on some wartime nostalgia, which may have been popular in the period of the movie’s release.

I think this poses an interesting question about when a film can be a classic and under what umbrella of reasons. Does a film have to be old, vintage and fun or can the relatively new ‘big-hitters’ of the movie world like Interstellar be considered ‘classics’ too? Perhaps these are too lofty questions for a Monday…   

From Russia With Love

Over the Christmas holidays I inadvertently watched three James Bond movies. I say it like it’s surprising this happened because I didn’t intentionally sit down to watch any of them. Yet watching 3 films ‘by accident’ (admittedly not totally accidental as I enjoyed them and did watch them in their entirety) seems pretty crazy. That’s the total output of Back To The Future as a point of comparison.

A literature professor at my old University once described the phenomena of James Bond and I think he really got it right. He said the books were like smooth drinks that in the days before TV got big (Ian Fleming’s final Bond novel was published in 1966) were the perfect form of entertainment for a lazy Sunday. You could never have enough and there was always time for one more. In this respect, Ian Fleming was a master in entertainment. Like him or hate, his writing was slick, sharp and won fans. Simultaneously, as cinematography became ever more ambitious and popular it was inevitable movie adaptations of Fleming’s work would follow.    

Half a century on it is remarkable where the James Bond franchise has ended up. I sincerely doubt that even Ian Fleming had imagined, even in his wildest dreams that a character named after an American bird-watcher would end-up having 24 films that have so far grossed nearly $6bn at the box office. MI6 itself only has an annual budget of around $2.3bn as a point of comparison!

With so many to choose from, the big question is which one’s the best? 24 movies is one hell of a movie-marathon (exactly treble doing a Harry Potter marathon, though why anyone would do that is beyond me!) and selecting just one is a pretty big ask.

 But as I was ‘inadvertently’ watching From Russia With Love I got the feeling this was really Bond at its best. Perhaps it was simply the warm, slightly nostalgic colour-grade of a 1963 film that feels so true to the book, perhaps it was the sinister portrayal of SPECTRE (a proper dicdasterdly organisation from the Soviet Union) which stays true to James Bond’s roots in the height of the Cold War.

 One thing it most definitely was in my opinion was Sean Connery’s portrayal of Bond. It’s amazing to think this man was once an Edinburgh-based milkman, yet he really seems to revel in the role of James Bond. His portrayal is smooth, suave and sophisticated in equal measures and I suppose it does help that his slick hair and rock-like jaw won him no shortage of female admirers the world over.

 What I also liked about this film (beyond it staying relatively closely to the novel) was that fight and action scenes didn’t feel overtly over the top. Sure, there was plenty of scenes which required a non-cynical audience to get away with, but I think it poses an interesting question.  Do Bond movies have to be spectacular, action-packed chases in almost every scene or can their be a bit more depth to the plot? Though Skyfall was very much in this vein there was certainly more consideration to the script than some previous films, particularly those where Pierce Brosnan played Bond. It will be interesting to see where Spectre, the next Bond-movie due for release this year goes. The right balance of plot and action might just make it as good as From Russia With Love… 

Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Watching Ferris Bueller’s Day Off whilst feeling unwell yourself is surely one of life’s cruellest ironies. Thinking I was letting myself in for 99 minutes of laid-back laughs, little did I know I would be almost green with envy by the end of this very 80’s American movie. Watching Ferris Bueller successfully navigate the perils of throwing a school sickie whilst enjoying just about every possible benefit that could possibly come with it does not really make you feel any better yourself when you’re high on Lemsip and Vitamin C tablets.

That’s not to say that Ferris Bueller’s Day Off isn’t a great movie. The film doesn’t take itself seriously but manages to avoid the potholes that a lot of modern movies fall into of being overly corny/ cheesy/ insultingly unrealistic. Much like the character of Ferris Bueller, the nature of the film is relaxed, easy going and pretty easy to get along with. You kind of get the impression that a lot of film directors and producers have tried to follow where Ferris Bueller once trod on his day off and probably haven’t been successful. This is a film that’s nearly impossible to dislike. That’s not something you can say about a lot of modern movies.

It’s difficult to try and pin-point why this might be. I liked the way some scenes just seemed to organically become bigger and bigger without you really being aware that anything had shifted or changed. An example of this is the scene where Ferris leads a rendition of ‘Twist and Shout’ in the middle of the street and suddenly, before you know it, everyone everywhere in Chicago has joined in. I honestly can’t think of anything more fun than to have been an extra in this scene- it looks like the biggest, most spontaneous party ever to hit a big screen!

In my slightly hazy and unwell state, one thing that did rattle me was the senseless destruction of the Ferrari California Spyder. This is surely one of the most beautiful handmade cars of all time and I did find myself struggling to cope when the car memorably reverses out of the glass garage and down a steep drop. Only learning that all Ferrari’s used in the filming of the movie were models has alleviated some of the pain! Credit must be due to the model department for their realistic creations!   

All in all, Ferris Bueller is one of those classic, easy going movies. It’s difficult to think of Ferris living in anything other than the best day of summer, his popularity as high as the blue, American skies that are in every scene of the movie. Ferris Bueller is a man who will seemingly have everything forever. And as if to cap it all, my sister has walked into the room, had one look at the Ferris Buelller’s Day Off DVD box (bearing a laid-back photo of Ferris Bueller) and said “wow, don’t you think that guy is really good looking?” I guess some people really do have it all...    

 

 

The Green Mile

The Green Mile

Directed by Frank Darabont

Produced by Frank Darabont & David Valdes

With hindsight, maybe it would have been nice to have chosen a Christmas film for the first of my movie blogs. As it turned out, I chose The Green Mile. Now I feel neither Christmassy nor particularly inspired by the idea of a ‘season of goodwill’. The closest The Green Mile comes to festive fun is the colour green, the colour that was most closely associated with Christmas prior to its corporate Coca-Cola takeover. But, as those who have seen the film will know, The Green Mile was probably never designed to act as a cheeky stocking filler since its release way back in December 1999. Offering it as a Christmas present would be like rocking up to the White House on the 4th July wearing a full Union Jack Suit...

That of course isn’t to diminish the film. The Green Mile is an intensive, rather claustrophobic assessment of a 1930s American Penitentiary. It feels right at home in some of the classic and moving portrayal’s of America in this era, and I was reminded at times of the depleting realism of something like John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men. Furthermore, at 188 minutes in length The Green Mile is an epic cinematic production, perhaps one of the few things in life that takes longer to digest than Tom Hanks’ CV.

Clearly I’m not going to be able to cover all of the incredible elements of this film in this short blog, but here are some of the things that stood out.   

Tom Hanks & Cast  

Someone once told me (I can’t vouch for its factual accurateness) that if you watched all of David Attenborough’s television screen time back-to-back it would take you over 3 years to complete. Although younger than good ol’ David, I wouldn’t be surprised if the same statistic could be trotted out for Tom Hanks. The guy must be a ridiculous workaholic, but I really like how each of his on-screen characters are somehow different and personable. Perhaps this is just the variety of roles that Hanks has enjoyed (in the way that typecast actors like Hugh Grant and Vince Vaughan will probably never get the opportunity to exhibit on screen) but everyone of Hanks’ characters feels like a different person in costume. I was revisiting The Terminal last week and it seems almost unbelievable that the same person who plays the quirky Viktor Navorski is also the deadbeat Prison Officer Paul Edgecomb. Even Hanks’ depiction of the character’s urinary tract infection seems realistic and left both myself and the people I watched the film with grinding our teeth in dismay as the poor man tries unsuccessfully to give back to nature. For me, this is another great performance from Hanks, someone who genuinely has earned their place on the Hollywood A-list.     

The repertoire between characters in The Green Mile is an important component of the film’s overall success. The literal giant Michael Clarke Dunne is emphatic as John Coffey, as is Doug Hutchinson, who strikes a great balance between sadistic and coward in his portrayal of character Percy Wetmore.   

Surrealism

I’ve always felt incorporating surrealism into a straight production is pretty hard to pull off successfully. One the stage, this was something Harold Pinter was able to achieve, but I can think of fewer successful iterations on the big screen. The Green Mile is one such film that gets it right. The character of John Coffey is built up slowly, he resolves Paul Edgecomb’s urinary infection, saves the life of the rather cute mouse called Mr. Jingles and then exhibits the full-blown miracle healing by curing Melinda (Warden Hal Moores’ wife) of her brain tumour.

This build-up of the surrealism means it creeps up slowly as being the central focus of the film, rather than being an obvious theme early on. This means it slowly dawns on the audience the weight of the decision left to Prison Officer Paul Edgecomb, in that he alone will have to decide on the fate of a man endowed with supernatural powers of healing.  

Religion and Race  

Films that make analogies to the death of Christ or classic biblical stories run the risk of either being a bit cheesy or falling flat on their face. The Green Mile has no shortage of religious references, with John Coffey’s character and execution clearly alluding to the crucifixion of Christ and generally the film does it in an interesting and thought-provoking manner.  

Perhaps one of the most haunting moments in the film is John Coffey’s final wish to watch a movie the day before his execution. The movie he sees, Top Hat, depicts Fred Astaire playing a well-dressed American dancer and singing the lyrics “I’m in heaven.” Heaven on earth, depicted though the slow waltz of two wealthy, white Americans is unobtainable to the poor and black John Coffey. It seems like a rather profound moment in an otherwise simple scene and one that cleverly throws back to the beginning of the film in Paul Edgecomb’s nursing home.

Conclusions

The Green Mile is haunting, clever and boasts as many analogies as any film can handle without compromising on plot. With an exceptional cast and exceptional performances it’s no surprise to me this film is hailed as an all-time classic.