On Jack Reacher

Jack Reacher is better than you’d expect it to be, but still with its fair share of weird funny sad juxtapositions. The main narrative thread is dark, relevant and engaging. Tom Cruise’s arrogance as Jack Reacher works, at times, at other times the comedy that’s meant to arise from it feels misplaced. His don’t-give-a-damn anti hero isn’t quite the Driver, but still works. Enjoyable, slightly weird and sure to spawn a franchise. Bourne has nothing to fear. 

On Taking a Chance with The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

A director who dropped out, a troubled production, a controversial casting choice and a more controversial image; these are the just some of the pre-release headlines that surrounded The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey. Such stories cannot have been welcome news for fans of Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001 – 2003).

Yet, when you look closer at the news it was never that bad. The director who dropped out, Guillermo Del Toro (it would have been fascinating to see his take on Tolkien) was replaced by Jackson himself, who had already brought Middle Earth to such incredible realisation before. The troubled production involved pay disputes in New Zealand and were quickly resolved. Martin Freeman would have to wait till the film’s release to prove any critics wrong and the image, the controversial image… a brand new high definition 3D, shot for IMAX and, uniquely in 48 frames per second, twice what other feature films offer! Yet, is this, a CGI reliant, epic adventure film not exactly the type of film with which to experiment with? Such experiments are not for Ken Loach films to which serious film criticism is applied. The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey is film as film was intended: pure, unadulterated, magical fun. Just as audiences wondered at the spectacle of Melies, so will audiences marvel at feat Jackson has achieved here, for this is no less an experiment in cinema. An experiment worth celebrating.

At 48 frames per second The Hobbit is a unique experience and even seasoned cinemagoers may find the image at first unsettling. The sharpness of the scene is incredible and more akin to a BBC nature documentary than a feature film. The close ups reveal such detail it is almost intrusive. This could be that the first 30 minutes of the film are set in the claustrophobic hobbit hole, heightening the realism as it closes off space. However, the eye soon adjusts (if only the same were true of 3D) and when it does, Jackson’s choice to film in 48 pays off. As The Hobbit relies so much on CGI, the quicker frame rate blurs the distinction between real and imaged. This results in less of those ‘computer game sequences’ that plagued The Two Towers (2002) and The Return of the King (2003). In fact, the concluding scene of The Hobbit, involving giant eagles, is so majestic in its realism and cinematography that you could swear you were present.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey is an excellent addition to the Middle Earth canon that Jackson is creating. Not as accomplished as The Fellowship of the Ring, but equal to the others. Freeman excels as Bilbo and the dwarf clan are increasingly engaging. This is a film of tremendous fun and does not feel its 160 minutes in any way. Yet, even with all its expensive technology and high definition image, The Hobbit can still not solve the issues of 3D, but it does make the case for IMAX.

On Smashed

Films about alcoholics battling alcoholism are not uncommon and in its main narrative thread, this is what Smashed deals with and it deals with it well. However, it is the secondary story, involving protagonist Kate that provides the grounding for the drama and humour.

Kate, the alcoholic primary school teacher, throws up during class. When one of the children asks her if she is pregnant, Kate decides this is the better option than admitting she is wasted, or smashed. This sounds like an absurd idea, but writer / director James Ponsoldt handles it with great skill. The lie grows into even more difficult and cringe inducing situations and compliments that main narrative thread of Kate battling alcoholism. When Kate is eventually fired from the school, for admitting to the lie, Smashed loses some of its appeal and charm and continues doing ‘recovering alcoholic’ well. 

On the Avatar Effect with Life of Pi

Life of Pi wants to be a film full of quirky, idiosyncratic characters that drive the film. A lead named after a French swimming pool; a father with a comical limp caused by polio; an uncle with an exaggerated chest that makes him an excellent swimmer. To begin with it all feels very Amelie (2001) and like Amelie it’s difficult to really connect with the characters. Instead we bond with detached amusement. For quirky characters with heart see Wes Anderson.

Therefore, more than a character driven dramatic piece of work, Life of Pi is a visual accomplishment, much in the same way Avatar (2009) was. The use of 3D in Life of Pi, while good, is not displaying massive strides in the technology and doesn’t improve on what Cameron did three years with Avatar. The image is crisp and at times stunning and the 3D adds fantastic depth especially in the scene where the boat sinks and Pi is stranded on the empty pacific. However, during fast moving action scenes, it still blurs.

More impressive than the 3D is the creation of the Bengal tiger, which is fantastically realised with CGI and terrifyingly real. However, like Avatar, the story will not stand up to repeated viewings and with repeated viewings the technology will become less impressive and soon look out of date. This is a shame as Ang Lee is obviously very capable of not only creating great character driven films (Brokeback Mountain (2005)), but also doing this while combining them with technology (Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon (2000)). Life of Pi is fun and entertaining, but soon forgettable and another argument for 3D not having a long shelf life.    

On Intertextuality and Seven Psychopaths

Intertextuality is where one media text references another. This is hugely common occurrence in cinema, but perhaps done more subtly than in writer / director Martin McDonagh’s latest film Seven Psychopaths. Not only does the film reference other media texts, but also it references itself.

To begin, the film opens with two gangster discussing gangster issues. These gangsters are played by Michael Pitt and Michael Stuhlbarg, both familiar to Boardwalk Empire (2010 - ) audiences for playing gangsters. We therefore, as audiences seeing these two onscreen, automatically associate them with their Empire roles. A move McDonagh would have been very aware of.

One of the main psychopaths is played by Christopher Walken an actor with a significant past in cinema history. Walken is best known for playing criminal roles with an edge, an edge that is usually bordering of the psychopathic: King of New York (1990), Batman Returns (1992) True Romance (1993). McDonagh, obviously aware of this casts him as the most Buddist of the psychopaths.

Beyond this external level of intertextuality, Seven Psychopaths references itself as this is a film about a film being written called Seven Psychopaths, where the characters in the ‘reality’ of the film are amalgams of the characters in the one being written. This makes for a very interesting concept that proves to be a lot of fun, but remains a hollow cinematic experience.  

On Questions of the Image with End of Watch

There was a time when the quality of film was a point to be proud of. A clean, crisp image was to be admired. This has by no means completely disappeared. Directors like Christopher Nolan are experimenting with wide, sharp images for IMAX. Paul Thomas Anderson did the same with 65mm for The Master (2012), which looked fantastic. The onset of digital filmmaking, perhaps led by Michael Mann in mainstream cinema offers a different aesthetic, but remains of a high quality.

A poor image used to connote a poor, cheaply made film. No longer is this the case. Digital film has made the art form more accessible and the Internet provides the platform. This disregard of the link between poor quality poor film, has spread into mainstream cinema. Take the Paranormal Activity (2007 – 2012) series; films that rely on the grainy, vintage look of the film to tell their stories. End of Watch works on the same principal by following two LA policemen, one of who is documenting the life of the police for a film class he is taking.  The image switches from that of the handheld digital he holds, to button cameras he and his partner wear to third party shot footage by director David Ayer. The difference in image is clear, but never detracts from the suspense the film creates and actually uses the variants in image as a driving force in the narrative. The issue may be that audiences newer to the cinema will be unable or unwilling to differentiate between the qualities of image produced by 35mm, to 70mm, to digital to pseudo-vintage. The art form maybe disappearing.  

On Cinema of the Absurd with Argo

Mid way through Ben Affleck’s third film as director, John Goodman’s character refers to the Iranian rescue mission as theatre of the absurd. As dramatic comedy genres go, Argo is more farce than theatre of the absurd, but the reference is accepted. Farce is defined as a piece of work that ‘aims at entertaining the audience by means of unlikely, extravagant, and improbable situations…a fast-paced plot whose speed usually increases, culminating in an ending which often involves an elaborate chase scene.’ Argo fits the definition snugly.

Affleck has crafted a tense drama that swings between comedy, menace and tension with ease. The story, one almost too unbelievable to be true, is the film’s hook and while the ensemble cast is strong, the story is star. Affleck is continually maturing as a director and Argo is a mature thriller, choosing to take a balanced political standpoint rather than create a jingoistic American heroes story.  A gripping and fantastical film, Argo is well worth watching. 

On Enigmatic Filmmaking with The Master

How do you follow a film like There Will Be Blood (2007), a film so instantly an American classic? If you’re Paul Thomas Anderson, writer / director of some of the most interesting contemporary American films, you release The Master, a future classic, but for reasons far less clear.

The Master is best described as a loose narrative piece of cinema exploring issues of posttraumatic syndrome following WWII, the notion of cult and the balances of power. Freddie Quell is a returning American solider suffering (or excelling, if you asked him) from alcoholism and an unresolved and untreated fear of female abandonment. Lancaster Dodd is a man of blind confidence, a man not to be trifled with who possess the power to control the malleable, backed up by his Lady Macbeth wife. When the two meet, what follows is a piece of filmmaking that is impossible to ignore.

An interesting facet of The Master, and one that contributes to the feeling of unease on the part of the audience is that way Anderson frames his scenes. As an audience we are used to seeing the action, seeing the character that the scene is focused on. What Anderson does brilliantly is keep hidden what we are so used to seeing. We hear it, we see the reaction of others, but we aren’t privy to it ourselves and this endears the film with a sense of mystery and is uncomfortable to watch.

Furthermore, The Master first presents us with Freddie Quell faking sex with a woman made of sand on the beach. This is not a man we can relate to. Lancaster Dodd on the other hand, when juxtaposed with Quell appears reasonable and focused. We are therefore naturally drawn to Dodd as a point of recognition, someone to relate to. Yet Dodd is a man of very questionable ethics and when considered objectively, outside of the film, is a character as unstable as Quell.

As well as the major themes discussed above, The Master examines the forced loss of identity, achieved through enigmatic means, surely the basis of cult. Quell, like Harold Pinter’s protagonist in The Birthday Party (1958), Stanley, is a man who has fallen out of expected societal conventions. Dodd and The Cause form the society that Quell is brought into, after his identity has been questioned. However, unlike Stanley, Quell breaks free, proving too much of a free spirit, too damaged if you like, to be controlled. Whatever your interpretation, The Master is filmmaking at its highest level.