This month: “Aliens”, “Anchorman”, “Blue Velvet”, “Chungking Express”, “Crash”, “Diggers,” “Dirty Pretty Things”, “The Elephant Man”, “Eraserhead”, “Frankie and Johnny”, “George Washington”, “Howl’s Moving Castle”, “Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark”, “It’s Complicated”, “Junebug”, “Kind Hearts and Coronets”, “Laputa: Castle in the Sky”, “The Man Who Wasn’t There”, “Mulholland Drive”, “My Neighbour Totoro”, “No Strings Attached”, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”, “Ponyo”, “Quadrophenia”, “Roman Holiday”, “The Romantics”, “The Seventh Seal”, “Super High Me”, “Tart” and “Wild at Heart”.
This volume, the average rating is 6.1/10, with film of the month being Blue Velvet.
Aliens (1986) – 8/10
“Not bad for a human.”
I nearly stopped watching when I saw the opening credits: ‘Screenplay by James Cameron’. After my friends called me a fool, I persevered, and I was suitably frightened. Sigourney Weaver returns to star in Aliens, set almost a century after Alien, and no one believes the severity of the creatures that killed her crew – they laugh at the idea of their blood being corrosive, and, well, they ridicule the plot of Alien.
It leads to a surprisingly intense war between humans and aliens – the humans have guns, but the aliens have these things that come out of their mouth like a whisk. Suspense and horror are traded in for action and terrible dialogue, with people regularly saying, “I hate this job.” I’m not sure why these aliens are so frightening, as their main skill is to climb through air vents, take the escalator, and occasionally lay an egg inside you. It’s mainly the fear of being in space and being stuck there forever – twenty years before Avatar, Cameron shows early hints of xenophobia.
Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy (2004) – 3.5/10
A film for eight-year-olds with low expectations.
Blue Velvet (1986) – 9.5/10
“Yes. That’s a human ear.”
Question: Are there any bands better than Neutral Milk Hotel? Answer: Every band is better than Neutral Milk Hotel.
Ever since I heard In the Aeroplane over the Sea, I’ve passionately felt Neutral Milk Hotel are the most overrated entity since burgers – a statement so contrary to critical opinion that I will often listen to their music to reassure myself. Similarly, I used to hate Blue Velvet, thinking it was a bland genre exercise. However, on second viewing, I see a precise masterpiece – I was gripped by the lavish beauty and threatening menace that encompassed the full two hours.
The film begins with Kyle Maclachlan discovering a human ear outside a house. After some investigation, he finds himself at the sexual centre of a kidnapping scheme between a fragile singer (Isabella Rossellini) and a violent criminal (Dennis Hopper). Rossellini’s stark performance is delivered in a nightmare world that takes time to unveil itself, so much so that she finds herself naked in more ways than one. At first, the film is set in a quiet town where the green of the grass shines brightly, but it all changes in the evening – red curtains flail, but no one seems to be around.
When Isabella Rossellini finds Kyle Maclachlan, an innocent stranger not so innocently hiding in her wardrobe, she asks, “I don’t know if you’re a detective or a pervert.” In the sleepy location of Blue Velvet, it becomes more apparent that nearly everyone has to be a detective or pervert to survive. In the silence, there is poetry even in the way furniture is arranged – the layout of Rossellini’s living room is a stage for intrigue and violence, but keeps reoccurring from the same angles that it becomes as familiar as the living room for any three-camera sitcom, like a Friends episode entitled “The One Where Ross Discovers an Ear and…”
Whereas the baby never disrupted the surreal mood of Eraserhead, Dennis Hopper emphatically brings a frightening presence to each scene he appears in. As a villain, not only is he highly quotable, but also genuinely disturbing. In his first appearance, he inhales gas through a mask, swears angrily, then sexually assaults Rossellini – like the viewer, Maclachlan can only watch with grimace through his fingers. Remarkably, unlike the daydream and nightmare mood that encompasses Lynch’s films, Hopper’s violence feels chillingly real – he mostly chooses not to use a gun, and you can see the pleasure in his eyes from using the flesh of his fists to cause pain. Ironically, his most iconic line: “You know what a love letter is? It’s a bullet from a fucking gun, fucker. You receive a love letter from me, you’re fucked forever.”
Chungking Express (1984) – 8/10
“When the sun rose, I knew I had to go.”
I’ve been to Hong Kong before, and the city was as busy as the camera in Chungking Express, a film that presents two sinister love stories in cut up colours and sounds. When I was thinking about the film afterwards, my opinion lessened when I analysed the strange plot in my head. Luckily, the narrative is almost impossible to follow on first viewing. To be honest, it’s a distraction, and it’s worth just living in the/that moment.
Crash (1996) – 4.5/10
“The traffic – where is everybody?”
Yes, there is more than one film called Crash. This is not the Oscar-winning drama set in LA, which I haven’t seen, but a film adaptation about a cult who find sexual pleasure in car accidents. The premise sounds bizarre, yet it should be more intriguing. The drama is repetitive and predictable, and it fills out its running time with tedious action sequences. Once the initial shock is played out, the film doesn’t have anywhere to go, and not just because the cars no longer work.
Diggers (2006) – 5/10
“It’s already an arduous trade.”
What constitutes a coming-of-age film? Diggers, a drama with sitcom stars playing straight roles, was advertised as ‘coming-of-age’, but, really, time just passes. There’s no development, but it’s made oddly watchable by its cast – Maura Tierney (Lisa from NewsRadio), Sarah Paulson (Harriet from Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip), Paul Rudd (Mike from Friends), Ken Marine (Ron from Party Down), and Lauren Ambrose (the creepy person from Six Feet Under).
The unusual setting is that the main characters are professional clam diggers, hanging around on boats all day, free to have dry, observational conversations. The unambitious script means nothing really develops beyond a few sort-of funny lines like, “Floating’s important for a boat.”
There are some missed opportunities as a talented cast have to repress their talents – the clam digging aspect is barely touched upon, except for thirty seconds where Paul Rudd eats oysters. Is there a difference between interesting people and people who are just new to you?
Dirty Pretty Things (2002) – 8/10
“You know I can’t eat? I’ve already seen you laugh three times. Now four.”
I live in London and it’s okay, I guess. Dirty Pretty Things follows two illegal immigrants hoping to leave London, if they don’t get arrested first. One is an ex-doctor from Nigeria, played by Chiwetel Ejiofor, who works in a taxi during the day and in the hotel lobby at night. The other is a Turkish maid played by Audrey Tatou – yes, the French actress from Amelie.
“Tonight, London is colder than Moscow. I heard it on the radio.”
The beginning of Dirty Pretty Things does an amiable job of conveying the paranoia of day-to-day life as an illegal immigrant, especially with surprise visits from the immigration police. The film’s more interesting aspect begins when Ejiofor finds a live human heart blocking a toilet, then discovering the hotel’s owner sells passports in exchange for kidneys – these amateur operations are done by himself in hotel rooms. As an ex-doctor, Ejiofor is offered a lucrative role to be the surgeon, in exchange for passports for him and Audrey Tatou – his conscientious refusal leads to a moving battle of ethics versus logic.
“I have decided to go to America.”
Ejofor’s character is introduced well, with subtle hints dropped in each scene about his past, without being overbearingly suspenseful. As you’d guess from the plot, the film is incredibly moving, but is also funny in the right places – Benedict Wong plays a mortuary worker full of one-liners and metaphors about chess players – yes, metaphors about chess players, not the actual game. Moreover, Wikipedia reveals the screenplay was written by someone called Stephen Knight who also ‘wrote the scripts for Who Wants to Be a Millionaire’, which would explain the number of times someone in trouble phones a friend.
The Elephant Man (1980) – 5/10
“People are frightened by what they don’t understand.”
Based on his work with Eraserhead, David Lynch was chosen to direct The Elephant Man, a biographical story of a deformed man from the nineteenth century. In Eraserhead, the baby/monster is only seen from the outside, but this time the world is seen through the eyes of the “monster”. More importantly, Eraserhead is a surreal nightmare, where the baby is probably a metaphor for something from the Bible, but The Elephant Man is based on a real person. The overly sentimental film wants nothing more than for you to sympathise with ‘the elephant man’ – his face isn’t seen until after thirty minutes, when you’re already aware of the buzz around him, and then you’re thrust with a shy, intelligent, barely audible man.
David Lynch directs competently, but The Elephant Man is too restrained. After how much trouble went into financing Eraserhead, I guess he didn’t want to waste anyone’s money by taking too many risks. (Although that would change four years later with Dune.) It may be easy to say this in hindsight, based on the knowledge of what kind of filmmaker Lynch would become, but the clues are scattered – the dry direction is infrequently interrupted by nightmares, punctuating like mid-sentence exclamation marks. Lynch finally lets go in the final twenty seconds with blurred layers of surreal images that far overshadow the dramatic climax of the “I’m not an animal, I’m a human being…” speech.
When ‘the elephant man’ is introduced, we know about his history as a travelling ‘freak’ – a doctor tells off his owner at the circus for showing him off. However, that’s what the film is doing, and it isn’t really a story that needs to be told – many years later, if it wasn’t based on a real person and David Lynch wasn’t involved, there would be no reason to watch.
Eraserhead (1977) – 7.5/10
“You wouldn’t mind marrying me, would you, Henry?”
The idea of parenthood is frightening enough in an age of toxic toys and expensive babysitters, but David Lynch introduces a monster to the phobia. In his debut film, a quiet man, Henry, discovers his girlfriend is pregnant, and is forced into a rushed marriage by her mother. This is scary enough, but a premature birth produces a non-human baby – a worm with a lizard’s head that screams during the nights – and as the candle burns, it all gets stranger.
The tone is even more surreal through its slow pace and lack of dialogue. Every odd frame lingers like an abstract painting. As a single experience, Eraserhead delivers a mystery that can be interpreted in as many ways as you wish to contrive, which is always fun, but, unlike David Lynch’s later films, there’s no reality to hold on to. For instance, the impact of the baby is diminished as the film already starts too unnecessarily surreal. Similarly, the symbolism of Henry’s hallucinations is less focused as it isn’t that much stranger than his wife’s family.
Eeriness can be enjoyable if done to a correct level, and I think Lynch takes it a bit too far. His precise weirdness seems natural and I’m sure he’d insist every sequence plays an important part for an allegory he still refuses to explain. The whole film is a mystery because there is no mystery – none of it makes sense, so there’s nothing to solve, but plenty of absent fields to get lost in, if you can find them.
Frankie and Johnny (1991) – 3/10
“It makes you a creep. No, it makes you sincere. That’s worse.”
Sometimes you read a film review because they’re written by your friend, not because he’s Roger Ebert or Ed Howard, and I appreciate it. Similarly, I watched Frankie and Johnny because the titular roles are played by Michelle Pfeiffer and Al Pacino. The characters never develop and nothing really happens. It’s just dull dialogue and terrible jokes – an example is a woman in a diner claiming ‘puppy’ is a palindrome. Nevertheless, it’s strangely watchable because of the lead actors, but even they can’t pull it off – yes, even Al Pacino can’t make this dialogue seem convincing.
George Washington (2000) – 7/10
“One time, George saw a dead man in a ditch, and he brought him back to life.”
Before David Gordon Green directed crude comedies like Eastbound & Down and Your Highness (will be reviewed soon), he started off his career with poetic portraits of the Deep South. The emotionally confused characters of All the Real Girls strangled the film, but George Washington is more measured. In a rural town in South Carolina, some children struggle to pass time. One day, during a play fight, George accidentally kills a friend who bangs his head after slipping on the floor – they hide the body and keep it a secret. After this, George becomes obsessed with saving people, and even becomes a local hero.
David Gordon Green’s direction is patient and beautiful, allowing everything to wash over you. Unlike Snow Angels and All the Real Girls, the major incidents feel natural and thus more tragic. It moves slowly, but so do clouds.
Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) – 6/10
In this beautifully designed animated film, based on a novel by Dianna Wynn Jones, an eighteen-year-old girl is turned into a 90-year-old woman by a petulant witch. It’s a bit like Freaky Friday, yet shares more in common thematically with Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead. There’s enough to assume Howl’s Moving Castle is a top-tier film – it’s based on something written by Dianna Wynn Jones, it’s helmed by Miyazaki after Spirited Away, and it looks incredible. However, as marvellous as it all looks, these scenes are mainly a disjointed collection of colourful things that happen, much in a way that Spirited Away and other Miyazaki films tend to avoid – when one door closes, three windows open.
Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) – 6/10
Like London Zoo, the bit with the snakes is the highlight, but, despite the hype, there are better alternatives.
It’s Complicated (2009) – 4.5/10
“And he married her? A known lunatic?”
Firstly, it’s not complicated – a divorced couple consider getting back together, but also consider not getting back together. It’s actually quite easy to understand as the plot is repeated to friends, family and other block characters, and lines of dialogue include: “It’s been… awesome just… being… like… us.” When the title is said out loud by Alec Baldwin, the actual line is, “It was complicated.”
However, it’d be unfair to review the film based on its title. It’s a fairly predictable romcom aimed at older people, but has gained more exposure from having Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin as its leads. Streep reprises her role from Kramer vs Kramer as a villainous ex-wife – like a producer of any Hollywood film aimed at older demographics needing a male lead, she has to choose between Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin. It’s not just that there isn’t anything original that happens, but it feels so tired – extended sequences about how ‘funny’ it is to take marijuana, and the most scripted children since your church’s local Nativity play.
Junebug (2005) – 7.5/10
“I want to make the invisible visible.”
There are spaces and wrought sentences flowing throughout Junebug. The premise is similar to Meet the Parents, but that’s where the similarities stop – an arts dealer meets her husband’s Southern family, but there is almost nothing but sadness. Junebug isn’t really a comedy – it’s too subtle, and any humour is out of instinctive nervousness. It’s nothing like Meet the Parents. I really wish I hadn’t mentioned that goddamn film.
Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949) – 7.5/10
“I shot an arrow through the air – she fell to earth in Berkley Square.”
Peter Bradshaw wrote in The Guardian about how Kind Hearts and Coronets is based on an anti-Semitic novel from 1907 called Israel Rank. Fortunately, all anti-Semitism is absent from the famously dark film about a man who must kill eight family members (all played by Alec Guinness) to become the Duke of Chalfont – it’s like the reverse version of The Ladykillers, another classic from the Ealing studios. There is more comedy in the narrative which reveals the killer’s mind’s strange workings – he consoles himself after the death of an innocent woman because he ‘saved her from a weekend worse than death’. Highly recommended.
Laputa: Castle in the Sky (1986) – 7.5/10
“That must be the last robot.”
What do you do when a floating girl falls from the sky, and it turns out she’s the princess of a castle in the sky that might not even exist? And you’re being chased by pirates and the army? Yes, it’s as fun as it sounds.
The Man Who Wasn’t There (2001) – 7/10
The Coen brothers lightly touch upon film noir in 1998 by making The Big Lebowski a subtle adaptation of Raymond Chandler’s The Big Sleep, but it’s still remarkable how naturally they tackle The Man Who Wasn’t There – a black-and-white neo-noir exercise set in 1949. Billy Bob Thornton stars as a meek hairdresser in California who finds himself in the middle of a blackmail scheme. As you might suspect, things don’t go according to plan when his sort-of innocent wife is arrested for a crime she didn’t commit.
The first half is a visual wonder with the Coens getting the pacing perfect – the genre is mimicked convincingly, yet they can still add on their own unique stamp. For instance, there are cartoonish camera tricks, like a loose wheel that won’t stop spinning, and numerous references to UFOs. Also, the dialogue sounds like it could belong to Raymond Chandler, but at the same time it could be part of Fargo, Barton Fink, The Big Lebowski or The Hudsucker Proxy – unlike Intolerable Cruelty, their diligent insincerity translates well.
Once the arrest is made, the film stutters and doesn’t recover – each scene takes too long, without any inspiring ideas to develop. In the time between the arrest and the final scene, I sense the Coens didn’t have any specific plans – they just knew what the ending was, and must find a way to bridge that gap.
Is your life like The Man Who Wasn’t There? Sometimes, I wonder, walking down a busy pavement while everyone else is walking the other direction.
Mulholland Drive (2001) – 7.5/10
“Whoever you’re hiding from, they know who you are.”
Films set in Hollywood rarely stray from the theme of pretending to be someone you’re not – even David Lynch can’t escape this pattern. In LA, Laura Elena Harring escapes from a car crash with a bag full of money, a blue key and amnesia. She is found by Naomi Watts and they must find her past by playing detective, not through imdb, while the viewer is thrown clues by Lynch’s surreal images that appear in a non-linear fashion. Well, you’re given several clues, but they’re just as likely to be red herrings.
David Lynch originally filmed Mulholland Drive as a television pilot. When it wasn’t picked up for a series, he added a few more scenes to complete it as a film. This means there are too many irrelevant characters with stories that are teased, but don’t go anywhere – the side story involving corrupt film executives might make me intrigued to follow a television series, but here it disappointingly disappears into the background. Of course, Lynch might argue that these unremarkable and anonymous characters are integral to the whole puzzle, but I doubt that – the big twist that will confuse most people, the moment that shapes the whole film, was only filmed after it was rejected as a television pilot, thus confirming Lynch’s improvisation.
“You look like someone else.”
Despite my reservations, Mulholland Drive is fascinating when it sticks to its central premise of people pretending to be other people. It may be that the entire film is a dream, but it still becomes a comment on common, peculiar fantasies. For instance, moving to Hollywood with only a profile photo and a recommendation from your aunt. Or the fantasy of replaying history, if your unrequited love develops amnesia and literally falls onto your doorstep. Again, like in Blue Velvet, the lip synching motif returns, but this time from a more fragile state – a way of hiding vulnerability.
My Neighbour Totoro (1988) – 8/10
“Tell her I hope she’s feeling better.”
It’s always a pleasure to become so absorbed in the imagination of a children’s film, especially if you hate children. It’s only once it finishes that you realise just how great My Neighbour Totoro is. There isn’t much that happens, but the viewer is brought into a gentle world of umbrellas and cat buses – all dreamt up by two young children trying not to worry about their possibly terminally ill mother. It’s sad, but uplifting to be entranced by such innocence.
No Strings Attached (2011) – 2.5/10
“Did you have sex with someone, then give her a balloon?”
After co-starring in Black Swan, Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman have two separate films with identical plots – Friends With Benefits and No Strings Attached. You can probably guess what happens. Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher are friends who decide to regularly have sex without forming a relationship. Everything you think happens, does – the middle and end, exactly as you’d expect.
For some reason, I was hoping for something edgier, but No Strings Attached never strays from romcom formula. In fact, it overbearingly sticks to structure, particularly by having not just one, but an entire committee of quirky best friends to deliver relationship advice.
Question: Is No Strings Attached aimed at idiots?
Answer: No, but it would probably help.
It isn’t an original idea for a film, but the characters treat the idea like lightning, gasping for both reasons – on Ashton Kutcher’s father’s deathbed, he says, “Sex… friends? Friends with benefits? We can’t choose who we fall in love with.” This scene is even more ridiculous because the QBFs (quirky best friends) have been saying this the entire time.
Long term readers will know I have issues with two of the cast members, Natalie Portman and Greta Gerwig, so I’ll keep my criticisms to Ashton Kutcher – he cries less convincingly than a robot, or any household appliance. The puppeteer should have kept the strings attached.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) – 7.5/10
“He’s dangerous. I don’t think he’s crazy, but he’s dangerous.”
In case you don’t know the plot, Jack Nicholson fakes his way into an asylum, then finds it hard to get out. I read the Ken Kesey novel a few years ago, and that is narrated and told by someone pretending to be deaf and mute. For this reason, the emphasis on Jack Nicholson becomes clearer, and I’m not sure if it should be called a gamble, but it pays off. As you might have seen in Tim Burton’s version of Batman, Jack Nicholson (he must forever be called his full name) is an expert at playing the bridge between sane and insane – in both, his signs of craziness exhibit a greater awareness than those around him, whether that’s Nurse Ratchett or Bruce Wayne.
Speaking of bridges, the one sequence that I feel could be thrown overboard is when the patients take a fishing trip – the only scene that takes place outside the hospital. This excursion feels like a deleted scene from a DVD as it adds nothing, like a plodding comedy sketch without direction or punchlines. Elsewhere, the white walls of the hospital produce a claustrophobic atmosphere, which is what makes it so exciting when women with alcohol climb in through the window from the outside world – the outside world – the outside world – the outside world etc.
And Jack Nicholson’s eyes, full of madness with pupils that fight gravity, are the stars.
Ponyo (2008) – 5/10
“He hates humans. He kept me in a bottle.”
What’s in the water? I don’t know how to explain it to you…
A five-year-old finds a sort-of-fish which turns into a sort-of-fish-human. Ponyo is strange, and not just because of the plot – it just couldn’t click, and I’m not sure why. If you’re reading this site/page, you’ll realise that I’ve recently been working my through Miyazaki’s animated films, and Ponyo is the most beautifully designed of them all – the colours, direction and drawing can’t be beaten. Yet, I felt underwhelmed.
It’s probably a personal problem. When Ponyo turns into a human, she never truly resembles one – her look is supposed to be magical, but I’m just glad it didn’t give me nightmares. Nevertheless, she passes off as a human to everyone, and it’s her wish to become one. Maybe that’s where I have issues – I’m biased because of humanity and wishing I didn’t exist.
Quadrophenia (1979) – 7/10
“You have to be different, or you might as well jump in the sea and drown.”
Phil Daniels is a highly watchable portrayal of teenage angst – he cheers, he cries, he dances, and he plays the air drums harder than John Bonham. Quadrophenia reminds me of the first half of Out of the Blue, in that it’s about the joy of watching someone exciting walking down streets and talking back. It’s mods versus rockers, of course, but it ends up being a moderately successful advertisement for suicidal hipsters.
Roman Holiday (1953) – 8/10
“I don’t know how to say goodbye. I can’t think of any words.”
I went to Rome a few years ago and it’s pretty great. So, no surprises that the city provides a fine backdrop for Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn to wander in a way Before Sunset never accomplished. The story involves Hepburn as a runaway princess, while Peck does his best Cary Grant impression as a careering journalist. I guess they were short on stories in 1953, given the similarities with It Happened One Night, but Roman Holiday is less acidic – there is genuine warmth, and also no running jokes about the Wall of Jericho.
There isn’t anything cutting edge, but it’s fun and you get to see Audrey Hepburn smash a guitar over the head of a stranger.
The Romantics (2010) – 4/10
“I am afraid of the ocean.”
The opening credits provided an early warning by saying Katie Holmes was not just the star, but also an executive producer. The story is a bit wary – old friends reunite for a wedding, but also reunite a love triangle. The film is mostly forgettable, but I have to credit the bridesmaid’s excuse for stealing the groom from the bride – “As a friend, I want what is best for you.”
The Seventh Seal (1957) – 7.5/10
The Scott Walker song of the same name retells the story: “Anybody seen a knight pass this way/ I saw him playing with chess yesterday.” Ingmar Berman’s film is a fairly badass take on death and religion. A knight plays chess against Death in a final bid to live, while everyone else dies around him. Quite powerfully, as the plague takes yet another victim, God keeps his silence – as suffering spreads, he won’t respond to emails.
Super High Me (2007) – 5.5/10
Comedian Doug Benson saw Super Size Me, then thought it’d be funny to make a documentary called Super High Me where he continuously does marijuana for thirty days. Benson can be quite funny, but it’s a pointless exercise given that he’s usually high, anyway.
Tart (2003) – 3/10
Friends don’t let friends watch Tart.
Wild at Heart (1990) – 2.5/10
“I do not understand this one tiny bit.”
After making four very different films, David Lynch was somehow able to ‘make a David Lynch film’. Nicolas Cage and Laura Dern play two lovers on the run, driving through a world of crime and violence – a ‘love conquers all’ theme copied from Blue Velvet, but embarrassingly executed. Lynch’s visual flair is still there, as is the mystery he allures, but he’s parodying himself – bizarre imagery is crudely inserted, and every clumsy idea is thrust so that you don’t have too much to think about.
The idea of two innocent lovers in a painful world is one that could work if it wasn’t for how cartoonish the pair are – their love for heavy metal is played for laughs, and they’re overacting is possibly weirder than the motifs of The Wizard of Oz that awkwardly provide punctuation. That could be the point, but this would make Wild at Heart a cynically unironic glorification of violence and misogyny. It isn’t wild, and there is no heart.
