Saturday, 16 November 2019

Momentum
Dir: Stephen Campanelli
2015
*
The money a film makes has no baring on its quality and I stand by that statement. Avatar was the most successful film of all time for many years but I think few people would argue that it was the ‘greatest’ film ever made. Some of my favourite films didn’t make a penny, low budget masterpieces like 1992’s Eddie Presley came and went without anyone noticing and it was utterly brilliant. So just because Momentum came and went in 2015 without anyone noticing doesn’t mean that it’s a bad film. So it only made £46 at the UK box office, probably not surprising given that it had no advertising and only played for one day across just ten cinemas. People just see the headline ‘Film makes only £46 at the UK box office’ and assume the worst and that is wrong, just as people think films that make ridiculous amounts of money are automatically great. Real film fans know that there are many straight-to-video gems out there and Netflix should also tell people that a big financial cinema release doesn’t guarantee quality each and every time. I think I’ve made my point. However, 2015’s Momentum is a dreadful film and I feel sorry for those people who left the house and spent £46 between them to go see it. I’d want my money back if I were them. A great cameraman doth not necessarily make a great director, and while there was a touch of flare in Stephen Campanelli’s debut, there wasn’t much of anything else. The film opens up during a bank robbery, although you’d be forgiven for thinking you were watching three sex gimps playing laser quest. Our protagonist is Alex (Olga Kurylenko), a trained ex-military agent-turned-thief, who gets pulled by her former partner into a high-tech bank heist, her ‘one last job’. During said heist, which of course goes wrong, she accidentally steals a valuable flash drive containing incriminating evidence. Alex is then relentlessly pursued by a team of agents led by Mr. Washington (James Purefoy), who has been sent by an anonymous Senator (Morgan Freeman) to retrieve the flash drive. While involved in a violent and frenetic cat-and-mouse chase across the city, Alex tries to uncover the conspiracy behind her pursuers. I have to admit I love a good bank heist movie but this isn’t a good bank heist movie. The robbery is so high-tech it’s utterly ridiculous, flashing lights equaling clever stuff my tiny brain could never understand. Olga Kurylenko is not a leading actor and nor is she an action star. She’s barely an extra. There is something to be said for James Purefoy’s camp villain but it certainly cannot be taken seriously - Vincent Cassel was clever to jump ship when he did. Freeman offered his services to Campanelli for his directorial debut based on their prior working relationship, when he was a cameraman for Clint Eastwood but looking at most of the films Freeman has made over the last few years I’m starting to think that he owes someone a lot of money, possibly the same person Nicholas Cage and John Travolta owe. There is never an ounce of intrigue or suspense to be had, although I did wonder what the hell was going on for the first half of the movie – which doesn’t count. As a thriller it is never thrilling, the action is too mediocre for an action movie and it is far to predictable to ever be entertaining. I’m all for switching off to some mindless action but if one switches off too far then they fall asleep and that is what I felt myself constantly battling against. The real joke was that it was intended as an entry point to a franchise. Perhaps that was the origin of its failure – it was written with other films in mind and not enough time was spent on simply getting the one film right. It’s a bit obtuse really, and it failed because of it. It is deeply ironic that it was called Momentum as that was the one thing it was severely lacking, especially for a self-proclaimed action film. It’s the sort of thing even Milla Jovovich would pass on – and that’s saying something (although I still love her). Cliché, predictable, formulaic, boring….I have very little else to say about it.

Thursday, 14 November 2019

Starlet
Dir: Sean Baker
2012
****
First and foremost, Sean Baker is a director with a great eye. He makes it look easy, like anyone could just point and shoot. In many respects you can, if you have the talent, because he has also proven that you don’t need a huge budget and everything that comes with a big production, you just need a good idea, a camera and a few great performances. Okay, so you do need more than that, but he has shown that greatness can be achieved from simplicity – and talent. Starlet explores the unlikely friendship between 21-year-old Jane and 85-year-old Sadie, two women whose meet by chance in California's San Fernando Valley. Jane, who also mysteriously introduces herself as Tess, is a young woman who lives in an apartment with her two annoying roommates; Melissa and Melissa's boyfriend Mikey. She also lives with her Chihuahua, Starlet. Jane’s room is small and empty and one morning she asks Melissa if she can paint it but Melissa says the room cannot be changed because Mikey might need it for "shoots". Instead of painting the room, Jane decides to buy new furniture at neighborhood yard sales in order to decorate it. At one such sale she comes across an old woman named Sadie, from whom she buys a thermos. She suggests that it would make a nice vase, which annoys Sadie. Jane is incredibly annoying. She is vacuous, rather stupid and has a care-free attitude that makes me want to break things. She returns home to find Melissa and Mikey arguing, and while cleaning the thermos out for some flowers she’d bough she discovers a stash of money inside. She decides not to announce it to her housemates and hides the money in her room. She spends some of the money on extravagant luxuries for herself, like designer clothes and getting her nails painted ($475 for nails!!!) but then decides to return the rest of the money to Sadie. Sadie, however, dismisses Jane before she can explain. While sitting in her car, not sure what to do next, she sees Sadie take a cab to the grocery store and decides to follow. Jane convinces the waiting cab driver to leave, paying him for his time and telling him that she is a friend who will take Sadie home. Sadie is taken aback by Jane but agrees to a ride home when Jane refuses to back down. Back at Sadie's house, Jane hangs around refusing to leave. My god she’s annoying. In the end she gives her number to a skeptical Sadie and tells her to call her if she needs anything. Jane later surprises Sadie at her local bingo game, having mentioned that she goes every Saturday. Once more paying off Sadie's taxi, she drives her home and asks her about whether she wins at bingo. Sadie responds by spraying Jane with mace, believing that she is trying to con her out of money. The police are called and after speaking to them Jane drives off without any intention of seeing Sadie ever again. Sadie calls Jane the next day to reconcile, much to Jane’s surprise. The pair spend some time together and Jane learns that Sadie, a widow, loves Paris but has never visited the city. She also learns that Sadie is the widow of Frank, a professional gambler, who left her a wealth of money upon his death many years ago. Sadie tells Jane that she doesn’t have any children. The cash in the thermos would have been one of many secret stashes of money Sadie would have been unaware of. Meanwhile, Melissa is fired from her job. It transpires that she and Jane are pornstars who work for the same agency. Jane convinces their boss to suspend Melissa for a month instead of dismissing her, and Jane consequently gets a promotion. While Jane is at work, she leaves Starlet with Sadie, who loses the dog while tending to her garden. Sadie recovers the dog after a desperate and exhausting search. When Jane arrives to retrieve Starlet, Sadie seems troubled and wants to put an end to their friendship, which leaves Jane upset. Melissa finds Jane’s stash of money and tries to manipulate her into spending it on her without letting on that she knows about it. She talks about how friends should care for one another and do nice things for each other. This backfires when Jane decides to buy two first-class tickets to Paris for Sadie and herself. Sadie, however, refuses to go. Jane buys 25 Bingo cards and makes a deal with Sadie that if she wins at bingo, Sadie will go on the trip. Jane loses because Sadie herself wins the game; Sadie ultimately agrees to go on the trip anyway. Back at the apartment, Melissa finds out that Jane has spent all the money on Sadie instead of her. The two engage in a screaming match, and Melissa kicks Jane out and later tells Sadie about the stash of money. Sadie briefly unpacks her suitcase, but then rethinks her action. Later, Jane, ignorant of Sadie's knowledge about the money, picks her up to go to the airport. Sadie asks Jane to stop at the cemetery to leave flowers on the grave of her husband, and Jane notices the nearby grave of Sadie's deceased daughter. She then returns to the car, and they drive away. It’s a touching ending. Dree Hemingway is great as Jane for various different reasons. To come across initially as so incredibly naive and annoying, to then convince the viewer of a moral awakening is rather impressive. She floats about the film quite a lot, switching between concerned friend and flirtatious pornstar quite naturally. Her performance brings nothing but believability to the film, which is what makes it work so well. Besedka Johnson is also wonderful as Sadie. Johnson had wanted to be an actress her whole life and she died just after the film’s completion, her first and last performance. She was clearly a natural. Stella Maeve’s Melissa was great too, and I’d argue that performing that level of annoying is a higher degree of acting. Realism, good story and a visual flare aren’t easy, Sean Baker has talent. That said, he also knows that sex sells and most of his films now feature women in tight underpants/shorts and sexy times. Jane and Melissa really didn’t need to be porn actors but even if they were, the film really didn’t need an actual sex scene to prove it. A porn actress doubled for Dree Hemingway, something that casual viewers might not know, and they really go for it. I’m not sure who this is for, other than the twelve-year old boys who might come across the film on TV late at night who kept watching for all the legs on display. Lucky them I guess but I’d argue that it does nothing for the story or character, other than to provide titillation. It didn’t ruin it for me but it is a little bit of a cheap trick and I’m glad he has since toned down such scenes in his subsequent films. I’ve never enjoyed a film with two such annoying women and an annoying dog so much.

Wednesday, 13 November 2019

The Duke of Burgundy
Dir: Peter Strickland
2014
****
I was put off watching The Duke of Burgundy for many different reasons. The hype surrounding Fifty Shades of Grey was tiresome and I found the way the media was confusing domestic violence with consensual dominance rather worrying. I didn’t see much promotion for The Duke of Burgundy and I actually learned of its existence when standing in line for autographs at a Star Trek convention. I overheard half the crew of The Next Generation talking about how some of them watched it the night before and how much they loved it. True story. With further research I saw that it was directed by Peter Strickland, Berberian Sound Studio was one of my favourite films of 2012, so I was pretty much sold on it there and then. The few reviews I read about it made many references to it being a sexy lesbian film, LGBT erotica, a gay version of 9 1/2 Weeks, Last Tango in Paris and Secretary, all of which totally overlook the point of the film. The film explores the different aspects of dominance and features two women (there are no men in the entire film) to keep the balance level. To tell the story between a man and a women would totally detract from the overall message. The film begins with wonderful mystery as we see a timid Evelyn cleaning the house of Cynthia. Evelyn is clearly doing her best while Cynthia comes across as a cruel employer. It soon transpires however that both are romantically involved. Evelyn is studying lepidopterology (the study of moths and butterflies) under Cynthia, who frequently lectures on her studies. Evelyn works as a maid in her home, where she is subject to strict behavioural expectations and high standards for cleanliness. When Evelyn does not complete tasks to Cynthia's satisfaction, she is punished. As Cynthia increasingly falters in her dominance, it becomes apparent that Evelyn is orchestrating Cynthia's role in the relationship by writing instructions and scripts for specific scenes, which the couple acts out in the same way each day. While Evelyn finds the scenes to be sexually exciting, Cynthia only acts them out to appease her lover – who it has to be said is younger and more attractive in her eyes. She attempts to please Evelyn by ordering a carpenter to construct a bed with a drawer underneath for Evelyn to sleep in as a punishment; however, Evelyn is unhappy with the length of time it will take to produce the bed, and ultimately refuses the gift. Evelyn begins to demand that Cynthia lock her in a trunk in the evening as a new punishment. Cynthia agrees, but she is resentful about the new physical separation. Cynthia also becomes self-conscious about her aging, having injured her back moving the trunk to her bedside. She expresses her unhappiness on Evelyn's birthday, when she demands that Evelyn bake her own birthday cake, which Cynthia eats while reclining with her feet resting on Evelyn's face. Evelyn does not enjoy the scene and calls out her safeword, pinastri, which Cynthia ignores. The couple's relationship becomes more strained as Evelyn's expectations go unfulfilled. Finally, Cynthia accuses Evelyn of polishing another lecturer's boots, which she considers to be an act of betrayal. The two eventually seem to make up, and Evelyn agrees to put less emphasis on her sexual needs. The film ends with the couple going through the same play routine seen at the film's start suggesting that perhaps all relationships go through the same motions. This is what I really loved about the film. For all the hype about it being raunchy, full of lesbian sex and forbidden fruit, it really is all about the reality of any relationship. The title of the film refers to the Duke of Burgundy (aka Hamearis lucina) butterfly, although it is no longer known how it received that name in the first place, any reasoning being lost in the mists of entomological antiquity. Much like their relationship, they’re not sure how they got there but here they are anyway. The moths also act as a metaphor in the case of being drawn to a flame scenario, but also the many butterflies pinned and mounted that occur throughout the film reflect the love/abuse relationship in that the very beauty that attracts some people cause them to act in cruel way to the object of desire. Much like Peter Strickland’s other films, there is an other-worldliness to the story, which gives it a fantasy edge that doesn’t have a time point. Cynthia’s lectures are given to a group of women, half of whom are actual mannequins, something that clearly isn’t hidden, especially when you consider the directors well known attention to detail. This gives the film a wonderful sense of theatre that suits the story perfectly. Sidse Babett Knudsen and Chiara D'Anna are brilliant as Cynthia and Evelyn respectively. The film looks like a cult film straight out of the 1970s and you can tell Luis Buñuel is a big influence on Peter Stickland, not only in style but also because one of the characters in the movie is called Dr. Viridana. It’s a great piece of drama, overlooked, misunderstood and well under the radar but an absolute gem of a film.

Tuesday, 12 November 2019

The Naked Jungle
Dir: Byron Haskin
1954
**
Based on the 1937 short story Leiningen Versus the Ants by Carl Stephenson, The Naked Jungle is a film of two halves. What starts as an unconvincing melodrama suddenly turns into a ant-themed disaster film, it’s not quite the pay off I’d hoped it would be but the film isn’t without its appeal. Set in 1901, Joanna (Eleanor Parker) arrives from New Orleans at a South American cocoa plantation to meet her new husband, plantation owner Christopher Leiningen (Charlton Heston). This has been arranged by his brother in New Orleans, with whom she has had some form of relationship. Not only is Leiningen unhappy about getting his brother's "hand-me-downs" he is even more upset that she is a widow, as he wished to marry a virgin. Leiningen is cold and remote to her, rebuffing all her attempts to make friends with him. She is beautiful, independent, and arrives ready to be his stalwart helpmate. There is a strong sexual tension, which appears hard to resolve. He mocks her lack of understanding of the native ways and takes every opportunity to belittle her. Although there is a mutual softening she resolves to leave him and return to America. Leiningen decides to advance this plan by a month when he hears from the local commissioner of a potential attack by an army of ants, as he does not wish her to be harmed. As she awaits the boat to take her back to the United States, they learn that legions of army ants - the "marabunta" - will strike in a few days' time. Leiningen refuses to give up the home he fought so hard to create. Instead of evacuating, he resolves to make a stand against this indomitable natural predator. The ants take several days to arrive and during that time their joint effort brings them closer and love begins to blossom. Joanna joins the fight to save the plantation. Leiningen last hope is the drastic action of blowing up a timber dam to flood his own estate, washing the ants away. It’ll take years to rebuild but the fact that Joanna will be by his side and will thus understand his plight, will make the task easier. The first half of the film is dated, even by 1954 standards. Heston’s Leiningen is like a petulant child, he’s abusive, a narcissist and woefully misogynistic. There is nothing in it for Joanna and it never becomes clever why she goes to so much effort for him. He doesn’t become any less misogynistic either, only less abusive but only for the ending, you just know a character like that will eventually make her life hell. I can’t help but think that her character would probably end up wishing the ants had got her. The film picks up a bit when the ants do arrive but it’s a completely different film. I’ve often thought, half way through a boring film, how much better it would be if aliens suddenly invaded or if people began exploding, so I was thrilled when the tiresome melodrama was suddenly infested with destructive insects. I only wish they were giant radioactive ants. As painfully melodramatic as the first half is, the script is occasionally sharp and quite wonderfully so. When Leiningen shares his disappointment that his new wife isn’t a virgin, she’s tactfully quips that “a piano plays better if it has already been played.” The sexual tension is still disturbing though and its hard to like. Eleanor Parker’s character is flawed but her performance steals the show, followed closely by William Conrad’s performance as the Commissioner. Charlton Heston’s performance was over-baked, as it so often was, so in many respects it was perfect casting. My favourite scene is still the one where the village drunk gets his skin eaten off down to the bone while sleeping off a night of drinking. It’s not worth watching the film for though. I find it odd that it was produced by George Pal who brought us such classics as Destination Moon, The War of the Worlds, The Time Machine among many. It’s a poor man’s Tennessee Williams play at best and if you want ants then watch Them!, which came out the same year or fast-forward twenty years and watch Phase IV instead. Better still, cover your face in honey and lay down outside for a while are let real ants crawl over you for 90 minutes, trust me, it’ll be more entertaining than watching this.
Eaten by Lions
Dir: Jason Wingard
2018
**
I really wanted to love Eaten by Lions, and while I didn’t hate it, I thought it could have been so much better with a few tweaks. It is a feature-length adaptation of director Jason Wingard’s 2013 short film 'Going to Mecca' which won best comedy at the Manchester International Film Festival that year and there lies the problem. It has its ups and its downs because it is essentially a diluted story. The short film was sharp and snappy and didn’t waste a second of its 20 minute run time. While the feature length stretched version does build on the original in turns of tenderness and humour, it also complicates the simplicity of the original that made it so good in the first place. Also, and I take no joy in saying this, the two leads didn’t work together. Antonio Aakeel is a good looking lad but he can’t act to save his life, whereby Jack Carroll was brilliant, upstaging Aakeel in every single scene. The story follows two half-brothers, Omar and Pete, who were both brought up together by their grandmother after their mother and second partner (Pete’s dad) were eaten by Lions in a freak accident. After their grandmother dies, the pair are promised a home with Pete’s aunt and uncle but they clearly don’t want Omar to come too. Upon the discovery that Omar’s father is actually still alive and not dead as he was told, the pair skip school and go to Liverpool in search of Omar’s Dad. They soon get themselves into trouble, not only are they naive kids but Pete is disabled and unable to walk unaided, so when Omar wanders off and leaves him on the beach, Pete finds himself in trouble when the tide comes in. Omar returns in time to save his brother but their belongings and money are all washed away. A young girl called Ellen (Vicki Pepperdine) takes a shine to Omar and takes pity on the pair. She takes them to her Uncle Ray’s Bed & Breakfast and asks that he let them stay for free as a favour for her. Ray (Johnny Vegas) agrees and much hilarity follows, given the odd nature of Ray and how he treats his guests. The brothers soon tract down who they think is Omar’s father but a case of mistaken identity causes quite a commotion during a family gathering. Malik (Nitin Ganatra), the man they believe is Omar’s estranged father, is looked at by his wife and family as a cheater and he tries desperately to prove he is not the father. Then his brother Irfan joins the celebration and it comes apparent that he is Omar’s real father. Irfan (Asim Chaudhry) is not exactly what Omar was expecting. A big kid himself, Irfan admits to lying about his name to Omar’s mother on a weekend away but tries to convince Omar that he can be his dad, the coolest dad he could hope for. The film then gets unnecessarily moody as the brothers argue and separate. There is a ridiculous scene whereby Irfan’s niece leads Pete astray and gets them drunk to steal a Rolls Royce. The pair cruse around town, picking up homeless drunks and eventually bring people back to the family house when no one is in and crash the car into it. The brothers make up and they all live happily ever after. It’s a sweet idea but its all a bit too much. The outrageous comedy scenes are totally over cooked and there are far too many of them. Likewise, the melodrama is too heavy-handed and the film suffers for it. The film is at its best when its being simple and subtle. If I’m being completely honest, the film is at its best when it is following Jack Carroll. Carroll’s Pete is essentially a supporting role but he should really have been the main character. Johnny Vegas also brings some much needed comedy and Nitin Ganatra and Darshan Jariwala are the only actors to bring some real acting to the table. I like Asim Chaudhry a lot but here he is playing a watered-down version of the character he is best known for playing, there really isn’t anything for him to do and no elbow room for him to do what he does best. Sometimes a film needs to stop and breath for a few seconds and that’s what Eaten by Lions fails to do. Adapting a short into a feature film is never easy and while they got so much of it right, it only goes to show up the parts of the film that they got so dreadfully wrong. It might sound like I hated the film but I really didn’t, I liked it so much that I wanted better for it. I can only be honest and say that the acting wasn’t great and that I think it was written for commercial reasons more than it was written out of passion. I believe the extra stuff was written because ‘that’s what the audience wants’ rather than because it would have been better for the story. I do expect to see more from Jason Wingard and I really hope to see more from Jack Carroll who I think has a brilliantly natural talent for comedy for someone so young.

Sunday, 10 November 2019

Welcome to Marwen
Dir: Robert Zemeckis
2018
***
There’s an age old saying that I think Robert Zemeckis should take note of: “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should”. It took him two films (A Christmas Carol and The Polar Express) to understand that semi-realistic animation doesn’t look very good and perhaps following The Walk and Welcome to Marwen, he’ll think twice about dramatizing anymore documentaries. Seriously though, why would you dramatize a documentary? Documentaries are real, why would you take one and fictionalize it, it doesn’t make any sense. I enjoyed Jeff Malmberg's 2010 documentary Marwencol and I think I learned about as much about Mark Hogancamp as I needed to and indeed as much as he wanted people to know. I’d love to know what on earth made Zemeckis think about such a project that was never, ever going to become a success. In the 2010 documentary we are introduced to Mark Hogancamp just before an exhibition of his work. In 2000, Mark Hogancamp was attacked outside of a bar by five men who beat him nearly to death after he told them he was a cross-dresser. After nine days in a coma and 40 days in the hospital, Hogancamp was discharged with brain damage that left him little memory of his previous life. Unable to afford therapy, he created his own by building a 1/6-scale World War II–era Belgian town in his garden and populating it with dolls representing himself, his friends, and even his attackers. He calls that town Marwencol, blending the names Mark, Wendy, and Colleen. He was initially discovered by photographer David Naugle, who documented and shared his story with Esopus magazine which then lead to Jeff Malmberg's documentary. It was a fascinating and heartwarming look at one man’s self therapy with loads of cool models and photos. A happy story. It didn’t need the Hollywood/Zemeckis/fantasy treatment. However, there is something so odd about it, that I actually quite enjoyed it. Steve Carell plays Mark Hogancamp and in the opening shot we see Carell as Hogancamp as one of his own dolls flying a World War II warplane that has been hit by enemy fire and is about to crash land.The pilot's shoes are burned in the landing but he manages to find a pair of red high-heals, which he wears instead. The pilot is confronted by doll-like German soldiers, who taunt him for wearing women's shoes. The Germans threaten to emasculate him, but are killed by a group of doll-like women who come to the pilot's rescue and protect him. The scenario is of course part of an elaborate fantasy created by Mark Hogancamp, using modified fashion dolls in a model village named Marwen (originally called Marwencol but for some reason Zemeckis dropped the col). Mark imagines that the dolls are alive and photographs his fantasies to help him cope with acute memory loss and post-traumatic stress disorder from a brutal attack he suffered some time earlier, when he drunkenly told a group of white supremacists about his fetish for wearing women's shoes. The dolls correspond to people that he knows in real life: himself as "Cap'n Hogie", the pilot; various female friends as his protectors; and his attackers as German Nazi soldiers. A green-haired doll named Deja Thoris is a Belgian Witch who prevents Cap'n Hogie from becoming too close with any woman. Mark finally agrees to appear in court to deliver a victim impact statement after much coaxing from his attorney and friends, but upon seeing his attackers, he imagines them as Nazi soldiers shooting at him, and becomes terrified and flees, causing the judge to postpone the hearing. Mark falls in love with a woman named Nicol who has just moved in across the street, whom he has added to his fantasy. Mark imagines that the doll Nicol is in love with Cap'n Hogie, and that they get married. In real life, Mark proposes marriage to Nicol, who tells him she wishes to remain only friends. Mark is distraught and contemplates suicide. In his fantasies, Nicol is shot by a Nazi, who in turn is killed by Cap'n Hogie but brought back to life, along with other Nazi soldiers, by Deja Thoris. Cap'n Hogie realizes that Deja Thoris is a Nazi spy, and Mark realizes that the pills that he thought were helping him were actually hurting him. Mark pours the pills down the sink and vows to break his addiction to them. Mark attends the rescheduled sentencing hearing and delivers his statement. That evening Mark attends the exhibition of his work and makes a date with his friend Roberta, who is a sales clerk at the hobby store where he is a frequent customer. The film ends with a photograph of the real Mark Hogancamp, who has a successful career as a photographer. It’s odd and rather pointless given that the documentary already exists. However, I quite liked how the dolls looked. It’s a weird quirky idea – far weirder than the real story – that I can’t deny I wasn’t drawn to. I think I quite liked the look of the dolls too and I thought Steve Carell was great too, even though he’s nothing like the real Mark Hogancamp. Hogancamp must have agreed to it, so maybe this was an extension of one of his fantasies. In all honesty, if Hogancamp liked it, then I like it, as any extension of his world is a good thing. I’m not sure why Hogancamp’s attackers had to be white supremacists as they weren’t in real life, if anything they were homophobic. In a film that boldly explores cross dressing I don’t know why the bad guys had to be so extreme, when average people can be bad too. Sure, Hogancamp likens them to Nazis in his WW2 fantasy world but in the real world they were guys in a bar and not part of an organised hate group. I am happy that they didn’t shy away from Hogancamp’s love of women’s shoes though. It could be why the film didn’t do so well, which makes me sad, it is either that or the doll people anyway. Like I’ve said, I didn’t hate it, I was draw to its oddness, but it didn’t need to exist, I’m just quite glad it does, especially as I wasn’t the one who paid for it and lost all my money. I thought it was a little tacky inserting so many nods to his own films though, from Back to the Future to Allied, Zemeckis had to remind us that it was his film above all else.

Saturday, 9 November 2019

47 Meters Down
Dir: Johannes Roberts
2017
**
The shark attack genre, or Sharksploitation as its is sometime called, is littered with films that have very cool posters but fail to shock, scare or convince their audience. It is now a joke genre, full of films that are ‘so bad, they’re good’, although Shark Attack 3 is the only shark film I think is worthy of the title ‘best worst film’. The Shallows brought the genre back to a serious level in 2016 with a film that captured some of the mystery and suspense that made Jaws so popular back in the late 70s. 2018’s The Meg brought the fun back to the genre and made a shark movie a legitimate summer blockbuster once again. 2017’s 47 Meters Down is somewhere between the two. Sisters Lisa (Mandy Moore) and Kate (Claire Holt) are on vacation in Mexico after Lisa's boyfriend recently broke up with her. They decide to go swimming with sharks inside a diving cage with two local men they meet one night. The next day at the docks, Lisa is wary of the boat and its owner, Captain Taylor (Matthew Modine). Kate is a certified diver, but Lisa is new to diving. They lie to Taylor and tell him that Lisa is experienced. Unbeknownst to everyone, except the audience, the cable supporting the cage is fraying. As soon as Taylor sends Lisa and Kate down, the sisters are soon surrounded by great white sharks. However, the cable breaks, and the cage sinks to the bottom, which is 47 meters below the surface (hence the title) and out of communication range with the boat. Kate swims up seven meters to resume communication with Taylor, who tells her that Javier (Chris J. Johnson) will be coming down with a spare winch to attach to the cage. He advises them to stay in the cage because the sharks are close by. Both women are running out of air but soon see a flashlight in the distance. With Kate low on air from the previous swim, Lisa swims out to get Javier's attention. A shark tries to attack her but she miraculously avoids it. Lisa becomes disoriented about her position. Javier attempts to usher her back towards safety, but he is killed by a shark. Lisa takes Javier’s spear gun and the winch and swims back to the cage. The spare is attached but it also snaps and the cage sinks back down, landing on Lisa's leg, pinning her between the cage and the sea bed. Kate tells Taylor they are low on air and Lisa is trapped. He sends air tanks down and tells them the coast guard is an hour out. He also warns that the second tank may cause nitrogen narcosis, which can lead to hallucinations. Kate finds three flares to signal the coast guard. As she returns to the cage, she is attacked and presumably killed by a shark. Lisa uses the spear from the spear gun to pull a tank toward her and dons it, getting more air. Kate is shown to have survived her shark attack and makes it back to the cage but she is badly wounded and her blood is attracting more sharks. Lisa uses her BCD to lift up the cage, freeing her leg. Due to the nature of Kate's wounds, the sisters decide to swim to the surface, using one of the flares to scare the sharks. At the 20-meter mark, Taylor reminds them they must wait five minutes to decompress and avoid the bends. Kate accidentally drops the second flare and lights the third, discovering that they are surrounded by sharks. Taylor yells for them to drop their gear and make a break for the surface, and they swim as fast as they can. One of the sharks bites Lisa's leg but she escapes. Both women make it to the boat but Lisa is attacked again. She gouges out the shark's eye with the spear gun and it releases her. The men pull the sisters onto the boat, saving them. Then, in a rather disappointing twist, Lisa realizes that she has been hallucinating all this time due to nitrogen narcosis; she is still at the bottom of the ocean with her leg pinned under the cage. Coast guard divers arrive to rescue her and carry her to the surface. Lisa comes out of her hallucination and realizes that her sister is not with her, having actually been killed by the shark. The film is more Open Water rather than Jaws or The Shallows, although it certainly never achieves the same levels of thrill, dread or suspense. In a funny sort of way it feels like the twist ending was trying to elude to some sort of moral but the only moral to this story that I could tell was that you probably shouldn’t lie about having diving experience to a sailor (or swim into a sharks mouth). Jaws showed how it should be done decades ago by very rarely revealing the shark. It’s partly why people are scared of sharks, obviously their massive sharp teeth and the ability they have to eat you are their biggest points of dread but it is also the fact that you rarely see them coming. Swimmers are in their territory, they can breath under water, essentially if they want to eat you (which I realise they rarely want to do in reality), they can. Like many shark movies, 47 Meters Down portrays its sharks in a slightly exaggerated way, i.e. with more aggression. The film does retain as much of the classic aspects of shark behavior as possible, with the special effects unit looking at how the jaws behave when a shark attacks, what the gills are doing when it turns in anger, how fast is the tail moving to propel the massive body etc before exaggerating these movements a notch. Special effects company Outpost also had to craft believable water simulations for their shark scenes as the creatures pierced the surface. The studio also spent a significant amount of time establishing the right look of shark skin, especially when the sharks would surface above the water, glistening in the sun, wet, yet rubbery and thick. To replicate the organisms found underwater, finely chopped broccoli was added to the tank. Mandy Moore said it was quite unpleasant after a few weeks, comparing it to filming inside a soup. Quite how they managed to add CGI sharks among the murky waters is beyond me, they did well, but to be fair we don’t really see much of the sharks and certainly not in great detail. The stand out scene for me was when the girls light a flare as they are resurfacing in the dark. The outlines of the surrounding sharks are delicately lit in a menacing red light. The best thing I can say about the special effects is that they weren’t awful, as most effects are in shark movies. I didn’t care much for the set up and I didn’t care much for the twist ending, everything in between was typical shark movie fodder with few shark scenes. It has its moments but is largely forgettable. My biggest question however wasn’t where are all the sharks, but what is Matthew Modine doing here?
The Purge: Election Year
Dir: James DeMonaco
2016
***
The original Purge was a horror/thriller like no other. It tapped into a modern political fear, the rise of the far-right and the unthinkable that doesn’t feel like it could be impossible. To find societies deep subconscious fears is a must for any horror film maker of worth and when an idea strikes a chord, it is worth pursuing further. Now this has generally not been the case with other great horror films, indeed, nearly every great horror film is followed by a terrible sequel, and then at least seven others before it is remade (‘re-envisioned’) and seven sequels made of the remake. The Purge looks like it is going down that path and the second film, while still enjoyable, didn’t live up to the original. The Purge: Election Year however remembers all of the tricks of the first and what made it the success it was. By releasing the film during an Election year, one where a far-right candidate with controversial policies was all the world was talking about, the producers managed one of the smartest promotional campaigns in recent years. There was absolutely no mention of Trump of course, he obviously wasn’t yet in power, but you know it was on their minds. It was also the logical progression of the series, as the first film looked at the situation from the side of the rich and the second looked at the purge from the side of the poor. The political angle of the Purge was a balance between the two and also looked at the agendas of the right and left wing political parties. The film begins brutally as we see young Charlene Roan and her family as they are tied up by a masked purger. He taunts them with his purge playlist, and then tells them they will play a final purge game called ‘Mommy's Choice’, where the mother chooses which person in the family will get to live while everyone else dies. Charlie is chosen and forced to watch as her mother, father, brother, and sister are killed. Eighteen years later, Roan (Elizabeth Mitchell) is a U.S. Senator campaigning for the U.S. Presidency, promising executive action to end the annual purge nights. Former police sergeant Leo Barnes is now head of security for Roan. The New Founding Fathers of America's (NFFA) and their candidate, Minister Edwidge Owens (Kyle Secor), view Roan as a threat; under the pretense of regaining public trust, they revoke immunity for government officials, including her, on Purge night. Watching the presidential debate are deli owner Joe Dixon (Mykelti Williamson), his assistant Marcos (Joseph Julian Soria), and former purger turned EMT Laney Rucker (Betty Gabriel). A pair of teenage girls try to shoplift, only to be cornered by Joe. The girls mock Joe until Laney intervenes; recognizing her as a famous ex-Purger, they leave peacefully. Joe receives a call stating the cost of his purge insurance has been raised beyond affordability, prompting him to guard his store himself, despite Marcos and Laney's pleas not to. At the same time, the country's so-called "Murder tourism" booms the economy due to tourists visiting the U.S. to participate in the annual Purge nights. As the purge begins, Joe guards his store and is joined by Marcos, repelling an attack by the teen girls seeking revenge. Laney and her partner Dawn patrol the city in an ambulance, providing medical care to the wounded. Roan decides to wait out the purge from her home rather than a secure location to secure the vote, and is accompanied by Couper, Eric and Barnes, played by the returning Frank Grillo who is now a bodyguard rather than a police officer, as well as additional security forces. However, Couper and Eric are NFFA spies who allow a neo-Nazi paramilitary force led by Earl Danzinger to kill the guards and invade the house. Barnes escorts Roan to safety through an escape route only he knows about, but is wounded by a bullet on the way out. Once safe, he detonates a bomb in the house, killing Eric and Couper in the process. Navigating the hostile streets of Washington D.C., Barnes and Roan attempt to seek shelter, but are ambushed by a gang of Murder Tourists. Before they can be executed, Joe and Marcos kill the gang, having seen the pair's plight from the store's rooftop. As they take shelter in the store, the teens return with reinforcements. However, Laney runs over two of them and kills half the group. As the other Purgers threaten to break in, they leave for a safer hideout. The team is ambushed by Danzinger in a helicopter, and seeks refuge beneath an overpass wherein Barnes realizes they were tracked by the bullet in his shoulder, which he promptly removes. After a confrontation with a large number of Crips, the team helps their leader's injured comrade. In return, the Crips plant the bullet in another area to divert the paramilitary team; when the gunmen arrive, the Crips eliminate them. The team arrives at an underground anti-purge hideout run by Dante Bishop (Edwin Hodge). During their stay, Barnes and Roan discover that Bishop's group intends to assassinate the NFFA, in an effort to end the purge. As Roan pleads to Bishop's partner, Angel, not to kill Owens, they are alerted by Dawn of a large paramilitary group arriving in search of Bishop and Roan. Barnes and Roan escape back to the streets and reunite with Joe, Marcos, and Laney, who had left the hideout earlier to return to Joe's store. Barnes orders to flee from the city but on their way, the ambulance is hit by Danzinger's team. Roan is pulled from the van by the soldiers before anyone can assist. Barnes leads the group and Bishop's team to a fortified cathedral where the NFFA will "sacrifice" her. Before Roan can be killed, the group arrives and assassinates Warrens, causing a shootout that kills the entire congregation except Owens and another NFFA loyalist, Harmon James, who escape. Owens is caught by Bishop's group, but Roan manages to persuade them to spare him. The remaining paramilitary forces arrive, killing Bishop and his team. Danzinger and Barnes engage in a melee which ends with the former's death. As Roan and the team free the imprisoned purge victims, James emerges and kills a released prisoner. Joe shoots and kills him, but is fatally wounded. Before dying, Joe asks Marcos to take care of his store. Two months later, Roan wins the election in a landslide, while Barnes is appointed the new Director of the Secret Service. Marcos and Laney renovate Joe's store, which had been looted and demolished by the surviving half of the teens' group, and continue to run it in his memory. A news report then states that NFFA supporters have staged violent uprisings across the country in response to election results and the end of the annual purge nights. While I liked the original political content, it becomes muddled towards the end. I think a film in the vein of Shin Godzilla would have been better, where we’d see far more of the political aspect of the story, with the purge itself taking second place. I guess that’s not what the fans want though. It’s a strange one really. The Purge is something we should all be reviled by but we’re watching these violent films all the same as entertainment. The films ethics are also flawed, as those who are against the Purge are happy for purging to take place to suit their own agenda – even though they criticize others for doing the same. The idea is far better than the outcome. I do wonder whether the film would be different or would even have been made following the incidents at Charlottesville and across the US. Maybe it is best that such a film doesn’t get so close to the bone, I don’t know, but I do feel like a good idea wasn’t used as well as it could have been and has now been almost diluted and rendered obsolete due to the horrific reality of actual events. I can see the Purge films being studied in film and sociology classes in years to come.

Thursday, 7 November 2019

The Sacrifice
Dir: Andrei Tarkovsky
1986
*****
Andrei Tarkovsky’s last ever film might just be my favorite of his. 1986’s The Sacrifice is astonishingly good, even by the directors great standards. Although Tarkovsky was unaware of his impending death, it now feels like an intention conclusion to his work in retrospect, especially as the the final shot of the film echoes the opening shot of a tree in his first feature film Ivan's Childhood. A conspiracy theory emerged in Russia in the early 1990s when it was alleged that Tarkovsky did not die of natural causes but was assassinated by the KGB. Evidence for this hypothesis includes testimonies by former KGB agents who claim that the order was given to eradicate Tarkovsky to curtail what the Soviet government and the KGB saw as anti-Soviet propaganda. Other evidence includes several memoranda that surfaced after the 1991 coup and the claim by one of Tarkovsky's doctors that his cancer could not have developed from a natural cause. However, his wife Larisa Tarkovskaya and actor Anatoli Solonitsyn all died from the very same type of lung cancer. Vladimir Sharun, a sound designer who worked with all three in Stalker, is convinced that they were all poisoned by the chemical plant where they were shooting the film. Either way, he was a great loss to the world of film but left an amazing body of work behind him. The Sacrifice opens on the birthday of Alexander (Erland Josephson), an actor who gave up the stage to work as a journalist, critic, and lecturer on aesthetics. He lives in a beautiful house with his actress wife Adelaide (Susan Fleetwood), stepdaughter Marta (Filippa Franzén), and young son, "Little Man", who is temporarily mute due to a throat operation. Alexander and Little Man plant a tree by the seaside, when Alexander's friend Otto, a part-time postman, delivers a birthday card to him. After a long conversation about many different subjects Otto asks about God and Alexander mentions that his relationship with God is nonexistent. After Otto leaves, Adelaide and Victor, a medical doctor and a close family friend who performed Little Man's operation, arrive at the scene and offer to take Alexander and Little Man home in Victor's car. However, Alexander prefers to stay behind and talk to his son. In his monologue, Alexander first recounts how he and Adelaide found this lovely house near the sea by accident, and how they fell in love with the house and surroundings, but then enters a bitter tirade against the state of modern man. As Tarkovsky wrote, Alexander is weary of the pressures of change, the discord in his family, and his instinctive sense of the threat posed by the relentless march of technology. In fact, he has grown to hate the emptiness of human speech. The family, as well as Victor and Otto, gather at Alexander's house for the celebration. Their maid Maria leaves, while nurse-maid Julia stays to help with the dinner. People comment on Maria's odd appearances and behavior. The guests chat inside the house, where Otto reveals that he is a student of paranormal phenomena, a collector of inexplicable but true incidences. Just when the dinner is almost ready, the rumbling noise of low-flying jet fighters interrupts them, and soon after, as Alexander enters, a news program announces the beginning of what appears to be all-out war, and possibly nuclear holocaust. In despair, he vows to God to sacrifice all he loves, even Little Man, if this may be undone. Otto advises him to slip away and lie with Maria, who Otto convinces him is a witch, "in the best possible sense". Alexander takes his gun, leaves a note in his room, escapes the house, and rides his bike to where she is staying. She is bewildered when he makes his advances, but when he puts his gun to his temple the jet-fighters' rumblings return, so she soothes him and they consummate while floating above her bed, though Alexander's reaction is ambiguous. When he awakes the next morning, in his own bed, everything seems normal. Nevertheless, Alexander sets forth to give up all he loves and possesses. He tricks the family members and friends into going for a walk, and sets fire to their house when they are away. As the group rushes back, alarmed by the fire, Alexander confesses that he set the fire himself, and furiously runs around. Maria, who until then was not seen that morning, appears in the fire scene. Alexander tries to approach her, but is restrained by others. Without explanation, an ambulance appears in the area, and two paramedics chase Alexander, who appears to have lost control of himself, and drive off with him. Maria begins to bicycle away, but stops halfway to observe Little Man watering the tree he and Alexander planted the day before. As Maria leaves the scene, the "mute" Little Man, lying at the foot of the tree, speaks his only line, which quotes the opening Gospel of John: "In the beginning was the Word. Why is that, Papa?". In 1995, the Vatican compiled a list of 45 'great films', separated into the categories of "Religion", "Values", and "Art", to recognize the centennial of cinema. The Sacrifice was included under the category "Religion", along with Tarkovsky's earlier film Andrei Rublev. I can’t help but think that the Vatican missed the point. Tarkovsky considered The Sacrifice different from his earlier films because, while he commented that his recent films had been "impressionistic in structure", in this case he not only "aimed...to develop its episodes in the light of my own experience and of the rules of dramatic structure", but also to "build the picture into a poetic whole in which all the episodes were harmoniously linked", and that because of this, it "took on the form of a poetic parable". While Andrei Rublev rejects the advances of an alluring pagan witch as incompatible with Christian love, The Sacrifice juxtaposes both sensibilities and ends up being somewhat religiously ambiguous. The Sacrifice originated as a screenplay entitled The Witch, which preserved the element of a middle-aged protagonist spending the night with a reputed witch. However, in this story, his cancer was miraculously cured, and he ran away with the woman. In 1982, Tarkovsky wrote in his journal that he considered this ending weak, as the happy ending was unchallenged. It seems to have been a deeply personal film to Tarkovsky, open to interpretation in many respects with an eerie feeling that it was a swan song, even though it wasn’t intended as such. The film’s ending is infamous, not just in that it is incredibly moving and now iconic, but because it was a second take. Alexander's house, specially built for the production, was to be burned for the climactic finale, in which he burns it down along with all of his possessions. The shot was very difficult to achieve and just as the house was lit the shutter of the only camera filming jammed shut. The house burned down without a single second of it captured on film. Divine intervention? The scene had to be re-shot, requiring a quick and very costly reconstruction of the house in two weeks. This time, two cameras were set up on tracks, running parallel to each other. The footage in the final version of the film is the second take, which lasts for six minutes (and ends abruptly because the camera had run through an entire reel). The cast and crew broke down in tears after the take was completed.  Unbelievably (although not for a Tarkovsky film), there are only 115 shots in the entire 140 minute film. It’s an incredible film, one that is still discussed all these years later.


Nostalghia
Dir: Andrei Tarkovsky
1983
*****
When your friends know you’re a huge film fan and you describe yourself as a cinephile, you get asked a lot of difficult questions like what’s your favorite film? Who’s your favorite actor? Who’s your favorite director? I have different answers to those questions depending on the day I’m asked but if you were to ask me which of Andrei Tarkovsky’s films I liked the most, I’m not sure I could give you an answer. It might be 1983’s Nostalgia. However, if you asked me what my favorite ending or last scene of a film is, I’d most likely say Nostalgia, particularly of Tarkovsky’s films, at the very least it’s up there in the top 5. The film depicts Russian writer Andrei Gorchakov (played by Oleg Yankovsky) who travels to Italy for the first time to carry out research on a fellow countryman, an 18th-century composer of whom over two centuries, all traces have been lost. During his stay he is struck with crippling nostalgia for his homeland, longing for an inner home, a sense of belonging, and a clash between his personal vision of the world, and the real conditions. It is semi-autobiographical to Tarkovsky's own experiences visiting Italy, and the complex, profound form of nostalgia which he believes is unique to Russians when traveling abroad. He compared it to a disease, suggesting it to be like "an illness that drains away the strength of the soul, the capacity to work, the pleasure of living", but also, "a profound compassion that binds us not so much with our own privation, our longing, our separation, but rather with the suffering of others, a passionate empathy." I have a huge problem with nostalgia personally (not the film, nostalgia itself). It’s something that can really hold you back, it is anti-progression and I often associate it with melancholy. It’s more often a downer and when you try to reclaim some of your past its often a wasted pursuit, and often an expensive one. However, there is nothing quite like the warmth you get from an old memory and when nostalgia is good, it’s really good. I’m not sure you can be much of a film fan without nostalgia. That said, there is far too much of it about these days and it is incredibly detrimental to creativity, particularly in the world of cinema. We wouldn’t have so many awful sequels and prequels if it weren’t for nostalgia. In Tarkovsky’s 1983 film we see nostalgia for what it really is and I think it is the first and last time since that it has really been explored in film. Andrei Gorchakov travels to Italy to research the life of 18th-century Russian composer Pavel Sosnovsky, who lived there and committed suicide after his return to Russia. He and his comely interpreter Eugenia (Domiziana Giordano) travel to a convent in the Tuscan countryside, to look at frescoes by Piero della Francesca, although Andrei decides at the last minute that he does not want to enter. Back at their hotel Andrei feels displaced and longs to go back to Russia, but unnamed circumstances seem to get in the way. Eugenia is smitten with Andrei and is offended that he will not sleep with her. Andrei soon meets and befriends a strange man named Domenico (Erland Josephson), who is famous in the village for trying to cross through the waters of a mineral pool with a lit candle. He claims that when finally achieving it, he will save the world. They both share a feeling of alienation from their surroundings. Andrei later learns that Domenico used to live in a lunatic asylum until the post-fascistic state closed them and now lives in the street. He also learns that Domenico had a family and was obsessed in keeping them inside his house in order to save them from the end of the world, until they were freed by the local police after seven years. Before leaving, Domenico gives Andrei his candle and asks him if he will cross the waters for him with the flame. During a dream-like sequence, Andrei sees himself as Domenico and has visions of his wife, Eugenia and the Mary as being all one and the same. Andrei seems to cut his research short and plans to leave for Russia, until he gets a call from Eugenia, who wishes to say goodbye and tell him that she met Domenico in Rome by chance and that he asked if Andrei has walked across the pool himself as he promised. Andrei says he has, although that is not true. Eugenia is with her boyfriend, but he seems uninterested in her and appears to be involved in dubious business affairs. Later, Domenico delivers a speech in the city about the need of mankind of being true brothers and sisters and to return to a simpler way of life. Finally, he plays the fourth movement of Beethoven's Ninth and immolates himself. Meanwhile, Andrei returns to the mineral pool to fulfill his promise, only to find that the pool has been drained. He enters the empty pool and repeatedly attempts to walk from one end to the other without letting the candle extinguish. As he finally achieves his goal, he collapses. I’ve often seen it as a sort of companion piece to Peter Greenaway’s The Belly of an Architect, or at least an interesting contrast based on a similar idea. Nostalghia, like many of Tarkovsky's films, utilizes long takes, dream sequences, and minimal story. What the director wanted to achieve, in terms of style, was to portray the soul, the memory, of Italy, of which it felt to him being there. Referring to his previous film Stalker to better explain, he describes the Zone as: "which is and is not, it is reality and, at the same time, it's a place of the soul, of memory. In the film when you see it, it is a forest, a river. That's all. But the air that circulates, the light, the rhythms, the perspectives, without distorting anything, make you feel it as an "other" place, with various dimensions, always real and, at the same time, different." Of his use of dream sequences, Tarkovsky once said that “There isn’t “realism” on the one hand, and on the other hand (in contrast, in contradiction) “dreams.” We spend a third of our life asleep (and thus dreaming), what is there that is more real than dreams?” I can’t help but agree. We dream about things in ‘the real world’ in our sleep and then spend our waking hours trying to work out what our dreams mean. When he visited Italy to begin studying the project of Nostalghia with Tonino Guerra, as they visited cities Tonino would show him Renaissance architecture, art, monuments, and he admired them, and would take notes, but what struck him the most was the sky, the blue sky, black sky, with clouds, with the sun, at dawn, at noon, in the evening. A sky, he said, is always simply just that, but a change in the hour of the day, the wind, climate, can have it speak to you in a different way, with love, violence, longing, fear, etc. Cinema, he said, can give these "ways" back to you and that it must, with courage, and honest, always starting from the real. Tarkovsky was a true poet, a master of our times. It’s why during any given project he was working on there was always someone behind him either making a documentary about him, photographing him or writing about him. Indeed, Donatella Baglivo filmed a ninety minute documentary on the making of the film titled Andrei Tarkovsky in Nostalghia, that provided a fascinating glimpse into the making of the film. The final scene is exceptional. It’s one of those jaw to the floor moments that I watch films for. No director, with perhaps the exception of Ingmar Bergman, analyzed spirituality quite the way Tarkovsky did.
Stalker
Dir: Andrei Tarkovsky
1979
*****
Upon its release in 1979, Andrei Tarkovsky’s Stalker received a less than favourable reception. Officials at Goskino, a government group otherwise known as the State Committee for Cinematography, were particularly critical of the film. On being told that Stalker should be faster and more dynamic, Tarkovsky replied “The film needs to be slower and duller at the start so that the viewers who walked into the wrong theatre have time to leave before the main action starts.” The Goskino representative then stated that he was trying to give the point of view of the audience. Tarkovsky supposedly retorted “I am only interested in the views of two people, one is called Bresson and one called Bergman.” Stalker is a masterpiece, perticularlly in its cinematography but while it certainly isn’t fast, it sure as hell is dynamic. It takes place in the indefinite future, where the "Stalker" (Alexander Kaidanovsky) works in some unclear territory as a guide who leads people through the "Zone" - an area in which the normal laws of reality do not apply. The Zone contains a place called the "Room", said to grant the wishes of anyone who steps inside. The area containing the Zone is sealed off by the government and great hazards exist within it. At home with his wife and daughter, the Stalker's wife (Alisa Freindlich) begs him not to go into the Zone but he ignores her pleas. In a rundown bar, the Stalker meets his next clients for a trip into the Zone. The "Writer" (Anatoly Solonitsyn) and the "Professor" (Nikolai Grinko) agree to put their fates in the Stalker's hands. They remain nameless and the characters refer to one another by their professions. They evade the military blockade that guards the Zone, surviving gunfire from the guards. They then ride into the heart of the Zone on a railway work car. The Stalker tells his clients they must do exactly as he says to survive the dangers which lie ahead and explains the Zone's dangers are invisible. The Stalker tests for traps by throwing metal nuts tied to strips of cloth ahead of them. The complicated path that they must take cannot be specifically seen or heard but can only be sensed. The safest path is never the straight path. The Writer is skeptical of any real danger, but the Professor generally follows the Stalker's advice. As they travel, the three men discuss their reasons for wanting to visit the Room. The Writer expresses his fear of losing his inspiration. He appears angry and stressed. The Professor seems less anxious, though he insists on carrying along a small backpack, its contents unknown. While the Professor's desires are not clear, he reluctantly gives in to repeated pleas from the Writer and admits he hopes to win a Nobel Prize for a scientific analysis of the Zone. The Stalker insists he has no motive beyond the altruistic aim of aiding the desperate. At times, he refers to a previous Stalker named "Porcupine", who had led his brother to his death in the Zone, visited the Room, come into possession of a large sum of money, and in shame committed suicide, as the Room only grants true desires. While the Room appears to fulfill a visitor's wishes, these might not be consciously expressed wishes but unconscious desires. In addition it appears that the Zone itself has a kind of sentience. When the Writer later confronts the Stalker about his knowledge of the Zone and the Room, the Stalker replies that his information came from the now deceased Porcupine. After traveling through tunnels the three reach their destination. They determine that their goal lies inside a decayed and decrepit industrial building. In a small antechamber, a phone begins to ring. The Writer answers and cryptically speaks into the phone, stating "this is not the clinic", before hanging up. The surprised Professor decides to use the phone to telephone a colleague. In the ensuing conversation, he reveals his true intentions in undertaking the journey. The Professor has brought a nuclear device with him, and he intends to destroy the Room to prevent its use by evil men. The three then fight verbally and physically in a larger antechamber just outside the Room. The fight ends in a draw with all three of them exhausted. As they catch their breath, the Writer experiences an epiphany about the Room's true nature. He argues that when Porcupine met his goal, despite his conscious motives, the room fulfilled Porcupine's secret desire for wealth, instead of bringing back his brother from death. This in turn prompted Porcupine to commit suicide. The Writer further reasons the Room is dangerous to those who seek it for negative reasons. With his earlier fears assuaged, the Professor gives up on his plan of destroying the Room. Instead, he disassembles his bomb and scatters its pieces. The men rest before the doorway and never enter the Room. Rain begins to fall into the Room through its ruined ceiling, then gradually fades away. The Stalker, the Writer, and the Professor are shown back in the bar, and are met there by the Stalker's wife and daughter. A black dog that had followed the three men through the Zone is in the bar with them. When his wife asks where he got the dog, Stalker declares that it just came to him, and he remarks that he felt unable to leave it behind. Later, when the Stalker's wife tells him that she would like to visit the Room herself, he expresses doubts about the Zone. He states that he fears her dreams will not be fulfilled. As the Stalker sleeps, his wife contemplates their relationship in a monologue delivered directly to the camera. She declares that she knew perfectly well that life with him would be hard, since he would be unreliable and their children would face challenges, but she concludes that she is better off with him despite their many trials. "Martiška" the couple's daughter, sitting alone in the kitchen, recites a love poem by Fyodor Tyutchev. Martiška holds the large book and lays her head on a table. She then appears to use psychokinesis to push three drinking glasses across it, one after the other moving across the table, the third one falling to the floor. A train passes by where the Stalker's family lives, and the entire apartment shakes. As the noise of the train begins to subside, the film ends. The screenplay was written by Boris and Arkady Strugatsky and was loosely based on their 1972 novel Roadside Picnic which combined elements of sci-fi with dramatic philosophical and psychological themes – themes that Andrei Tarkovsky explored so well. The meaning of the word "stalk" was derived from its use by the Strugatsky brothers in Roadside Picnic, which alluded to Rudyard Kipling's character "Stalky" in his Stalky & Co. stories. In Roadside Picnic, "Stalker" was a common nickname for men engaged in the illegal enterprise of prospecting for and smuggling alien artifacts out of the "Zone". After reading the novel, Tarkovsky initially recommended it to a friend, the film director Mikhail Kalatozov, thinking that Kalatozov might be interested in adapting it into a film. Kalatozov abandoned the project when he could not obtain the rights to the novel. Tarkovsky then became increasingly interested in adapting the novel and expanding its concepts. He hoped that it would allow him to make a film that conforms to the classical Aristotelian unity, that is the unity of action, the unity of location, and the unity of time. The film departs considerably from the novel. The film has basically nothing in common with the novel except for the two words "Stalker" and "Zone". Tarkovsky viewed the idea of the Zone as a dramatic tool to draw out the personalities of the three protagonists, particularly the psychological damage from everything that happens to the idealistic views of the Stalker as he finds himself unable to make others happy. It is interesting that Apocalypse Now was released at the same time. At the height of the Cold War, Russia and America were making films that dealt with a journey to the heart of darkness, although I feel that Stalker asked far more questions. Both films however, are well known for the problems they had during production. Tarkovsky spent a year shooting a version of the outdoor scenes of Stalker. However, when the crew returned to Moscow, they found that all of the film had been improperly developed and their footage was unusable. The film had been shot on new Kodak 5247 stock with which Soviet laboratories were not very familiar. Even before the film stock problem was discovered, relations between Tarkovsky and Stalker's first cinematographer, Georgy Rerberg, had deteriorated. After seeing the poorly developed material, Tarkovsky fired Rerberg. By the time the film stock defect was discovered, Tarkovsky had shot all the outdoor scenes and had to abandon them. Tarkovsky was so despondent that he wanted to abandon further work on the film. After the loss of the film stock, the Soviet film boards wanted to shut the film down, but Tarkovsky came up with a solution. He asked to be allowed to make a two-part film, which meant additional deadlines and more funds. Tarkovsky ended up reshooting almost all of the film with a new cinematographer, Aleksandr Knyazhinsky. The finished version of Stalker is said to be completely different from the one Tarkovsky originally shot, although some of the crew who saw both versions argued that they were identical. It is said that the rushes of the first version of the film were kept by editor Lyudmila Feyginova in her home for years. They were destroyed by a fire that also claimed her life. The film uses sepia for the world outside the Zone and color footage within the Zone. To allow changes to the color tone of a long strip of film over an extended take, Tarkovsky built a long film processing vat which had different temperatures along the way. Like Tarkovsky's other films, Stalker relies on long takes with slow, subtle camera movement, rejecting the use of rapid montage. The film contains 142 shots in 163 minutes, with an average shot length of 88 seconds and many shots lasting for more than four minutes. The central part of the film, in which the characters travel within the Zone, was shot in a few days at two deserted hydro power plants on the Jägala river near Tallinn, Estonia. Several people involved in the film production, including Tarkovsky, died from causes that some crew members attributed to the film's long shooting schedule in toxic locations. Sound designer Vladimir Sharun recalled “We were shooting near Tallinn in the area around the small river Jägala with a half-functioning hydroelectric station. Up the river was a chemical plant and it poured out poisonous liquids downstream. There is even this shot in Stalker of snow falling in the summer and white foam floating down the river. In fact it was some horrible poison. Many women in our crew got allergic reactions on their faces. Tarkovsky died from cancer of the right bronchial tube. And Tolya Solonitsyn too. That it was all connected to the location shooting for Stalker became clear to me when Larisa Tarkovskaya died from the same illness in Paris.” The film’s score was composed by Eduard Artemyev, who had also composed the scores for Tarkovsky's previous films Solaris and The Mirror. For Stalker Artemyev composed and recorded two different versions of the score. The first score was done with an orchestra alone but was rejected by Tarkovsky. The second score that was used in the final film was created on a synthesizer along with traditional instruments that were manipulated using sound effects. In the final film score the boundaries between music and sound were blurred, as natural sounds and music interact to the point where they are indistinguishable. Initially, Tarkovsky had no clear understanding of the musical atmosphere of the final film and only an approximate idea where in the film the music was to be. Even after he had shot all the material he continued his search for the ideal film score, wanting a combination of Oriental and Western music. In a conversation with Artemyev he explained that he needed music that reflects the idea that although the East and the West can coexist, they are not able to understand each other. One of Tarkovsky's ideas was to perform Western music on Oriental instruments, or vice versa, performing Oriental music on European instruments. Artemyev proposed to try this idea with the motet Pulcherrima Rosa by an anonymous 14th century Italian composer dedicated to the Virgin Mary. In its original form Tarkovsky did not perceive the motet as suitable for the film and asked Artemyev to give it an Oriental sound. Later, Tarkovsky proposed to invite musicians from Armenia and Azerbaijan and to let them improvise on the melody of the motet. A musician was invited from Azerbaijan who played the main melody on a tar based on mugham, accompanied by orchestral background music written by Artemyev. Tarkovsky, who, unusually for him, attended the full recording session, rejected the final result as not what he was looking for. Rethinking their approach they finally found the solution in a theme that would create a state of inner calmness and inner satisfaction, or as Tarkovsky said "space frozen in a dynamic equilibrium." Artemyev knew about a musical piece from Indian classical music where a prolonged and unchanged background tone is performed on a tambura. As this gave Artemyev the impression of frozen space, he used this inspiration and created a background tone on his synthesizer similar to the background tone performed on the tambura. The tar then improvised on the background sound, together with a flute as a European, Western instrument. To mask the obvious combination of European and Oriental instruments he passed the foreground music through the effect channels of his synthesizer. These effects included modulating the sound of the flute and lowering the speed of the tar, so that what Artemyev called "the life of one string" could be heard. Tarkovsky was amazed by the result, especially liking the sound of the tar, and used the theme without any alterations in the film. This in turn effected the overall sound design. The title sequence is accompanied by Artemyev's main theme. The opening sequence of the film showing Stalker's room is mostly silent. Periodically one hears what could be a train. The sound becomes louder and clearer over time until the sound and the vibrations of objects in the room give a sense of a train's passing by without the train's being visible. This aural impression is quickly subverted by the muffled sound of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. The source of this music is unclear, thus setting the tone for the blurring of reality in the film. Tarkovsky said that he wanted "music that is more or less popular, that expresses the movement of the masses, the theme of humanity's social destiny." He added, "But this music must be barely heard beneath the noise, in a way that the spectator is not aware of it.” In one scene, the sound of a train becomes more and more distant as the sounds of a house, such as the creaking floor, water running through pipes, and the humming of a heater become more prominent in a way that psychologically shifts the audience. While the Stalker leaves his house and wanders around an industrial landscape, the audience hears industrial sounds such as train whistles, ship foghorns, and train wheels. When the Stalker, the Writer, and the Professor set off from the bar in an off-road vehicle, the engine noise merges into an electronic tone. The natural sound of the engine falls off as the vehicle reaches the horizon. Initially almost inaudible, the electronic tone emerges and replaces the engine sound as if time has frozen. The film ends as it began, with the sound of a train passing by, accompanied by the muffled sound of Beethoven's Ninth symphony, this time the Ode to Joy from the final moments of the symphony. As in the rest of the film the disconnect between the visual image and the sound leaves the audience in the unclear whether the sound is real or an illusion. Stalker explores our memories, our fears, fantasies, and nightmares, our paradoxical impulses, and that yearning for something that's simultaneously beyond our reach. It is essentially an allegory about human consciousness and a starkly beautiful one at that. It is an unquestionable masterpiece, one that would sadly kill it’s creator.