Thursday

I should preface my remarks on Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street by saying that I have little patience for musicals. I went to see this movie, however, on the understanding that it was a very un-musical musical, and because it was directed by Tim Burton. He's a director that I initially liked, but have come to be suspicious of. Are any of his movies actually any good? Ed Wood, perhaps, is remarkable, but it stands as a rare example rather than a general trend. Anyway, this is a subsequent issue. The singing starts within about thirty seconds of this film beginning, and thus immediately I was on edge. Perhaps what irritates me is the singing of unspectacular lines. I don't mind songs at passionate, dramatic moments, when a character is in tension, but when a character sings 'I'm walking down the street', or something equally mundane, I am tempted to punch them. I was, however, gripped by the plot (this coming from a play by Christopher Bond), and tried to engage with the characters. The stage design, as always with Burton, looks far too artificial, and the speeding camera shots through the East-end streets were unnecessary, annoying, and failed to give the film the scope or size intended. It still felt like a series of solitary sets with nothing tying them together. The songs kept slowing the pace down. Towards the end, however, as the inevitable conclusion drew nearer, the film does pick up, and the finale is satisfyingly grim. The performance of Depp was appropriate, but he is hardly doing anything innovative here. Overall, what was interesting about this movie came from other sources. Of course it is well made and produced, but I don't think it is a good, lasting film, and it's been significantly over-praised in the media.

Wednesday

There Will be Blood is almost a masterpiece. Instead, it is just a very, very good film, which isn't a bad thing, of course. I hesitate to say what you would need to add or remove to make it better, but the answer has to be 'not much'. It is a remorselessly intelligent movie which treats its audience as intelligent. Someone told me P. T. Anderson is too contrived, but I think they have a different meaning of that word than me. The music sustains a grim mood, and the lack of sound effects and silence in horrific moments makes them even more horrifying. The humour at times seemed out of place, and this may have come from the book, but was missing in the rest of the film. Daniel Day Lewis, on screen for almost the entire film, puts in an amazing performance. At times, however, it felt too intense, too 'method', and the difference between this and his role in Gangs of New York seemed minor. The ending was perhaps the only major blemish, turning the film into a biography of the man, rather than a portrayal of part of his life. The brief flashback to happier times, and the last scene itself, felt out of touch with what had gone before. But these are minor complaints. This is easily one of the best films I've seen in a long time.

Wednesday

No Country For Old Men, or 'Old Country For No Men' as the people behind me in the ticket-queue called it, is a remarkable film. The Coen brothers return to the serious themes of some their earlier work (Blood Simple, Miller's Crossing), but with the twenty years of intervening experience added to it. They still retain some of their humour, but it comes from the characters themselves, rather than being contained in the style of the film. The plot is a little reminiscent of Fargo, but that is neither really their fault, nor a great problem. This movie is sombre and threatening with, to begin with at least, little dialogue, and little music that I noticed. For the majority of its length I thought it was superb, but the ending disturbed me. Not wanting to give too much away, but it seemed like a substantial character was dealt with unsubstantially. It felt as if perhaps they had suddenly had to condense a large part of the book to fit it into the film. I don't know. The conclusion itself caught me when I wasn't quite concentrating (such that I had to go find the novel in a bookstore and read the last pages), but perhaps it is a good thing that I can still be surprised by a movie. I did, however, feel strangely unsatisfied, despite this being I think a brilliant film.

Saturday

I never had any intention of watching About a Boy. I'd read High Fidelity when I was younger, and marginally enjoyed it, but it wasn't the kind of fiction I continued reading, or especially wanted to see adapted into movies. So, Hugh Grant in what seemed like another romantic comedy role trying to scrape the last bit of success out of the achievements of Four Weddings and a Funeral. Nonetheless, I somehow found myself with nothing else to watch last night, and decided to give the film a chance. Most reviews seemed to be 'better than you'd expect', which was encouraging. And, overall, I'd have to say it was better than I'd expected. This does not, however, mean it was good. The director simply wasn't brave enough with the material. The first thing to do is get rid of the voice-over narration. And this isn't a romantic comedy, it's been mis-advertised. Hugh Grant's relationship with Rachel Weisz takes about five minutes. The rest of the film is devoted to how he deals with the boy. Without the richness of a book, the film is unbalanced, and becomes bizarre. The ending isn't at all satisfactory or convincing. But I'm being too harsh. This wasn't a bad movie, it's just that it didn't make much of an attempt to rise above a standard that had been set eight years earlier.

Friday

I don't remember the cinema release of Double Jeopardy. I wouldn't be surprised if it went straight to video, at least in this country. It does have big stars, Tommy Lee Jones and Ashley Judd, but I think the problems start with the title itself. When I heard it I thought 'I've seen that before', and that's a terrible thing for a movie title to do. It should excite and inspire you. When I started watching it, however, I realised I hadn't seen it before. The plot, though, felt familiar: a woman's husband dies and she is accused of the murder. She is sent to prison, only to discover that he isn't actually dead. The film tries to encompass too much. The woman spends six years in prison. This is too heavy an experience to drift over in two minutes with a montage (which they do). It would've been better to begin the film with her emerging from prison. Then we could engage with her better. This movie is really not much more than a TV film. It is interested more in story (which would be ok if the story was fascinating), rather than in a way of telling that story. It has a strange mixture of happy and grim moments. Perhaps the director's hand was forced by producers but, overall, there is no excuse for anyone making a movie like this.

Thursday

Identity is a well woven film. For the majority of its length the suspense is well maintained. I don't know anything about the plausibility of the psychological disorder shown here, but its treatment was entertaining and I guess that is the point (rather than a clinical analysis). Not wanting to give too much away, but the twist that comes half-way through the film is intriguing, and the one that comes three-quarters through is even more fascinating. However, I did feel it made the film slightly pointless. The characters you'd invested in turn out to mean nothing. This film is of course incredibly post-modern. It deconstructs the cliches of movies, whilst at the same time using and enjoying them. You can guess the final twist at the end if you're observant, but it doesn't really ruin the pleasure. This is good fun and entertaining, tightly knit and compact.

Wednesday

The ending of Woody Allen's Manhattan counts as perhaps some of the best five minutes in cinema. Suggested by Alex, David Cairns recently included it on his blog in his listing of euphoric cinematic moments. The sequence begins with Woody Allen listing the things that make life worth living. He lists actors, music, films, novels, works of art, food, and the face of the woman he loves. I have long thought that Allen's inspiration for this speech was the poem by W. B. Yeats 'Beautiful Lofty Things'. Here, Yeats, writing at the end of his life, lists moments that he'll never forget. Near the end he remembers the sight of the woman he loved, and wrote some of the best poetry ever written about. I don't know for sure that Allen was thinking of this poem whilst writing Manhattan, but for me the connection enriches the scene.