Saturday

At last, a proper, contemporary, movie review for you to get your teeth into. Last night I saw Catch a Fire. Not very well publicised, this is a film about apartheid in South Africa, starring Tim Robbins, and directed by Philip Noyce (Dead Calm, Patriot Games, Sliver, Clear and Present Danger, The Saint, The Bone Collector, The Quiet American, and so on). I think this film suffers from being based on a real life - as I've said before about other movies. It is too rambling. It took a long time for me to get motivated and interested in the character. There was no immediate struggle for him to deal with. Sometimes, it seemed, the film-maker was at odds with the facts of the story. He was trying to make the main character a good, honest man, but then had to deal with the fact of him having an affair and a child with another woman. You have to fashion real life to fit the pace of the film, I think. Here it doesn't quite succeed, although there were good moments of deliberate juxtaposition such as the funeral of ANC members cut together with the award ceremony of the soldiers that killed them. Perhaps an even more significant problem was that Noyce seemed sympathetic to the Tim Robbins character who tortured and killed possible terrorists. I found him shown to be fairly human and sensitive, which I thought was brave of Noyce, whereas at the end of the film we were quite obviously supposed to see him as a 'monster'. Overall, a fascinating insight into history, but not a great film.

Friday

I saw the Jon Favreau episode of My Name is Earl the other day, and wondered what this strange actor was up to. I think I first saw him in Swingers, like most people. Since then I remember distinctly his role in Friends, then in Very Bad Things, and more recently The Break-Up. But what else? I couldn't think. Then, I accidentally came upon the knowledge that he has been directing films - five in total. Did you know this? Most notably he did Elf, which I enjoyed without realising his involvement, and then Zathura. He is currently filming Iron Man. As a side-note, he also apparently did one of the voices for the Dilbert cartoons which we all enjoy. So, there you have it: Jon Favreau, man of many talents.

Thursday

It's been puzzling me as to why they have made another Mr Bean film. I had thought the first one was such a failure that it had killed off the character and any hope of a franchise. An hour and a half of a guy who doesn't talk? That's weird. Bean worked in a particular time and place, and for very short fragments. The transference to the big screen and America seemed an awful idea. Anyway, it's been done again, and apparently this time Rowan Atkinson says this is the last one. We can only hope. The review on imdb suggests a connection with 'the silent greats' Keaton and Chaplin. Well, maybe. But they were stretching their medium and its technology as far as it would go. Atkinson is limiting his. Not that that's a bad thing (see Funny Ha Ha), but silent comedy just doesn't feel right anymore. I did like the original Bean TV series, but it seems to have passed its moment. Anyway, it got me thinking about successful and unsuccessful transferences from TV to Film (or short to long). It's very hard to get right.

Wednesday

For those of you who receive this blog through an RSS feed, I'm guessing you won't have noticed this week's quote by Federico Fellini. It runs thus: 'Even if I set out to make a film about a fillet of sole, it would be about me'. When I heard this I was instantly reminded of the previous quote I've had here by Renoir saying a director only makes one film in his life. This then reminded me of my own quote that I say to myself, which is 'everyone can write a novel'. I think people are fascinating and unique, and that all of us are capable of writing at least one good book (perhaps it doesn't have to be fiction). These two ideas may not be directly related, but they connect along an axis of the thought that every person has one interesting story to tell. As I said in relation to the Renoir quote, I think the great directors (and great novelists) are capable of telling many stories, but this principle probably holds true for the rest.

Today I realised one of my favourite words is 'irrevocable'. I like it because I can't pronounce it, and it doesn't make sense. Every time I see it heading towards me in a sentence (and I try to fit it into conversations a lot) I pause and have to think about how to say it. I end up speaking very slowly and conscientiously, and normally repeating it several times to make sure I get it right. It doesn't make sense because it should just be 'irrecoverable', but that has a different meaning. 'Irrevocable' is nice because when it comes to spelling it, I always get it right. I hear the word slowly in my head and just type it out. Irrevocable.

Tuesday

In this week's feature where I discuss what weekly features I should add, I thought I'd bring up the idea of a poll, since there has been so much talk about them recently. A long time ago I did contemplate having one here on Stranded Cinema. What kind of poll? Well, it would be a poll for you to vote as to which film you want me to see and subsequently review. There may be a film you really want to see, but don't have the money or the time to do so. Or, there may be several films that you can't decide between seeing. Or, maybe you'd just like to hear my opinion on a movie you watched but weren't certain about. Any of these and more would be valid ideas. However, knowing my audience, I quickly assumed that you'd probably deliberately pick awful movies and make me go to see them. I found this idea very funny. Every month you could make me see a terrible film, just for fun.

Anyway, the moral of the story is that I don't think a poll would really work here. It would be good to get someone else to narrow down the many films I have to see, since there are so many interesting ones out at the moment, but the practicality of the whole thing probably wouldn't work.

Monday

A new film is about to hit theatres starring Will Ferrell and Jon Heder. It's called Blades of Glory. It will be interesting to see if Jon Heder can play roles other than Napoleon Dynamite, which seemed to define him so clearly. The concept looks funny, but then as we know Hollywood buys and then sells films to us based on the concept alone: Ferrell and Heder ice-skating together, that was the pitch. Whether the film is actually consistently funny is something Hollywood will hide from us until we pay our £6 at the door. Strangely, the film is seemingly directed by two people who haven't done anything much before; and also written by two people who haven't done anything before (two separate groups of two people, not like the Coens).
I pretty much like watching Ferrell do anything, even if the script is terrible (cf. Kicking and Screaming), so I'll probably enjoy this film, but I have a feeling that it's going to be awful. My reasoning is that I hadn't heard about it until one week before it hits the cinemas. I'm guessing this means that it hasn't been able to generate, or wasn't worth generating, any pre-release hype.

Sunday

I saw the original, if it can be called that, film The 300 Spartans the other day. It was made in 1962 by Rudolph Maté (who died only 2 years later, and was better known as a cinematographer). It's a fairly ordinary, classically made film. Nothing, that I noticed, particularly interesting about it. Indeed, I had never heard of it until news of 300 began to circulate. What is remarkable is the old Hollywood style of filming battle scenes: no trick photography needed, they would just hire thousands of actors. Surely this is the best way of doing it? Incredibly difficult to organise and control, but shouldn't good things be hard? I know 300 has been filmed mostly with blue (or green) screen. I don't think that can possibly capture a battle as well as actually having real actors on a real field in Greece (or a parking lot outside Fox studios, wherever it was). Apparently Frank Miller was inspired by this film, but calling it a remake is probably stretching the meaning of the word. We'll see.

For the next three weeks posts to Stranded Cinema may come slow and irregularly due to me trying to work very hard. Again, we'll see.

Saturday

As soon as I saw the credit that said 'Based on the Novel...' at the end of Mystic River, I understood what had been beyond my grasp during my watching of it. The childhood scenes pass too quickly, and we are not given enough time to get used to the three main characters as adults before the murder happens. This wouldn't be so in the book. There were also gestures, speeches, and moments, that seemed disconnected, and yet pretended as if they were vitally important. Again, I think this is due to them being wrenched from the book, and their original context. Overall, I felt that this film seems to think too much of itself. It takes a very serious and grave tone, with big performances from its actors, and demands sincerity of its audience. I wasn't enthralled. The theme of one event affecting their whole lives wasn't interesting, and I'm fairly sure it's been done before? And the line 'I think we're all just 11 year olds stuck in a basement' is terrible. The final irony of the film can be foreseen, but it was still engaging, and the locations were different and developed a convincing atmosphere. My lasting impression, however, is that of its pomposity, as if the filmmakers were aiming at the award season. I wouldn't mind seeing it again, but I have no compulsion to.

Friday

I missed the last few lines of Funny Ha Ha, perhaps because the actors were speaking quietly, or perhaps because I wasn't paying too much attention since the film ends with no prior signals that it will end. I can guess what these lines were, but I am only guessing. I think it was a great ending. Anyway, I'll have to ignore them for this review - until someone can tell me what they are. This film is perhaps the lowest of lo-fi I have ever seen. And yet I became quickly, and thoroughly, engaged with the characters and their dilemmas so as to lose all sight of the 'roughness' of the production. It's filmed on something like a 16mm, you can almost hear the camera rolling, there's no soundtrack, and you see every blemish and mistake of the actors, hear ever step they make on wooden floors. At first it's disconcerting, but you soon become involved. The plot is negligible. What is remarkable is the almost too real conversations, the awkwardness of situations, the silences, and the stupid things said. The main actress with her beautiful face, but thin, lanky body, is compelling in her inaction as she drifts from job to job, and party to party. She is loved and ignored, periodically, by different men, and strives with humility and charm towards self-improvement. The moment I left the theatre I wanted to see it again, and Bujalski's next film. That, I suppose, is the best review I can give.

Thursday

I have been eagerly anticipating the movie 300. It is out now, and I hope to see and review it for you early next week. I have a few preemptive thoughts, however. You may not know that I am completing a PhD in Classics as we speak. So, I know all about the battle of Thermopylae in 480 BC, then? This is like asking an expert in contemporary French politics to tell you about Tudor England. What I study is 500 years away from Thermopylae, and yet somehow we are expected to know about it, and all of ancient history in-between and 500 years after. Perhaps, you might say, there are very few sources in ancient history: it is possible to read all of them. Well, yes, but there is so much secondary reading nowadays that comprehensive knowledge of that sort is becoming rarer and rarer. What I think is the issue is people's conception of the ancient world being a neat, compact unit - mainly because it is so in their brains - when in fact it existed and evolved dramatically over 1000 years. What annoyed me recently was an article in a newspaper entitled something like 'The Hollywood Guide to the Ancient World'. It made fun of the inaccurate, exaggerated and biased conception of history the movies presented to us. But since when have films attempted to give detailed time-lines, either within themselves or between each other? Film is art. How hard is that to realise? Anyway, one thing I do know about Thermopylae is that it inspired possibly one of the best poems ever written:

Inform the Lakedaimonians, friend - we rest
Here, understanding their orders to the last.

Wednesday

I have a memory of Along Came Polly receiving terrible reviews and doing quite badly at the box office. I remember they were mainly based around Jennifer Aniston and her character, Polly. When watching the movie last night I couldn't help agreeing with these reviews (imagined or not). She is intended to be a crazy counterpart to Ben Stiller's risk analyst, doing everything he could never do. But, in my mind, she's just not crazy enough. She: owns a half-blind ferret; eats spicy food; goes salsa dancing; dates people; moves around the world; eats peanuts from a bar bowl. Isn't this, more or less, what normal people do? I'm thinking they were afraid to make her too crazy in case they isolated the audience. I think their main problem was Aniston herself. Whilst I do think she's a good actress, this role wasn't right for her. Ben Stiller, however, was excellent as the cautious insurance salesman. Philip Seymour Hoffman (did you know he was in this?) does the best he can with a very strange role - and I think the first time I've seen him in a straight comedy. Otherwise, the problem is that it's just not that funny - the concept or the individual jokes. It does feel a bit like every other movie Ben Stiller's done: awkward guy does stupid things but eventually gets the girl. Sometimes it gets stuck between comedy and sincerity. There are some funny moments, but not enough. The ending, however, is a little more interesting than usual in that they don't decide on anything except maybe meeting for dinner sometime in the next week (the subsequent beach scene destroys this a little bit). Overall, ok.

Tuesday

Apparently Woody Allen is filming his next film in Spain. An article in the guardian complained that he should never have left Manhattan. It said that this was the environment he best understood and best expressed, and there was no reason for him to go anywhere else. His London films have been interesting, but not great. It does seem like he is searching for something in the wrong places - but then he's also said it's simply easier to make films in Europe. I'm not sure. Is it possible that a good filmmaker belongs to a time and a period, and as soon as that is over, and he has left it, he can never make good films again? The films with Woody in them have normally been the best, but only when he was a young man. Perhaps this is terribly cruel. I do have faith in him making good films again but, as the article said, writers shouldn't be afraid of belonging to and understanding only one small space in time and place. I think he will make one more great film, and it will be about Manhattan, nostalgically, and possibly starring Diane Keaton. Well, we'll see.

After the success of The Queen, plans are now being made for Thatcher. This, while clearly unoriginal in origin, if you see what I mean, sounds like it might be more interesting: focusing on the tensions in the build-up to the Falklands War.

Monday

I believe The Girl Next Door is an interesting film, different and original, but I don't think, overall, that it is a good one. My main problem was one of structure. The first half is occupied with him trying to get the girl. He achieves this, and delivers the speech he has been preparing, receives a standing ovation, but misses out on the scholarship. A whole new plot arc then opens up as he tries to raise some money stolen from him. We are asked to engage and sympathise with the characters again on another enterprise (which is hard if you hadn't, like me, even done so from the beginning). The girl, who was central to the first half, has very little part to play in this. In fact, her character changes completely. To begin with she isn't much more than a male fantasy. He follows her around because she is attractive and adventurous. She likes him because he doesn't know she's a porn star. The relationship is not mutual. Then, suddenly he is following her to Las Vegas. All I could think at this stage was 'what are you doing?'. The rather dark idea of under-age and forced pornography is skirted around, and two people who in reality would never be compatible suddenly are. The development wasn't fluid. Next there is the 'drugged/drunk while everyone else is sober' scene, which is in almost every teen movie, and which is never funny. Anyway, eventually the school geeks become successful, which is always a bad thing. It seemed muddled and scrappy, unsure of what it should be. The film does have, however, two great characters and performances from Chris Marquette and Timothy Olyphant, and is very funny in parts - mostly from these two. Perhaps my expectations were too high?

Sunday

I believe I originally reviewed The Break-Up on here last year. I have now seen it a second time and I, if anything, was more impressed with it. Perhaps the situations are a little cliched -'why would I want to want to wash dishes?' etc - and sometimes too close to the truth, but overall the film is perceptive and persuasive. The actions and reactions of the characters are sensitively and intelligently observed and perceptive. Vince Vaughn's character is at times too cruel. The comedy might be said to be too much at times - the gay brother, his threatening friend - and distracts from the sincerity of what happens. The ending, which I liked even more, did feel a bit rushed. They should've spent a bit more time on it, I think. That said, watching it a second time and knowing what the ending would be gives the whole film a much more sombre and foreboding feel, which I enjoyed.

N.B. There will be no reviews of recent cinema releases this week due to the writer being financially challenged. If you'd like to sponsor Stranded Cinema, don't hesitate to contact.

Saturday

I may have mentioned it here before, but I very much like the guardian's concept of getting specialist movie reviews. For example, last year I remember seeing a review of Snakes on a Plane by an ophiologist, and today (Monday) there is a review of The Illusionist by the magician Paul Daniels (I haven't the regularity to know when and how often they actually repeat this column). They offer incredibly interesting insights. For example, Paul Daniels tells how many of the tricks used in the film are accurate to the period (only one I think isn't). He recommends, however, that filmmakers pay more attention to the advice of magicians. At one point it is obvious CGI is used, when in fact a magician could have done the trick for them. This is a very interesting point - couldn't we use magicians a lot more in films? I'm imagining there are a lot of instances when the way a magician thinks about things, how to decieve an audience, could come in very useful. I'm guessing Bergman already had these thoughts in his film The Face.

Friday

Tremors has always been one of my favourite films. It's quite satisfying when what you've considered a guilty pleasure then also gets critical renown. The picture is considered quite a neat, funny, B-movie by many reviewers. It's unpresumptuous, scary, but at the same time tongue-in-cheek. They don't reveal too much or too little. They use the conventions of the genre, but it is never boring or dull. What drives it along, I suppose, is the chemistry between Kevin Bacon and Fred Ward, but also the impression that everyone there is having fun. The director captures a unique and interesting community perfectly, then puts it in danger in perfect monster movie style. It's quite a hidden gem, and I heartily advise you to seek it out.

Thursday

It occured to me tonight what a vital difference between theatre and film is. Of course there are many, and it is not for me to say which is better or worse. This one, however, seemed quite important. During a play actors have to project their voice. For a movie, an actor can whisper, and still be heard by every member of the audience. This is perhaps too obvious a difference to mean anything. But what could it mean? It could mean that actors don't have to perform so much. They are allowed to be much more natural, much more themselves. Sometimes I see actors on stage and they seem amateurish, and I realised this is because they are shouting, and uncomfortable with their voice. In a film, actors can commit to their character and not worry about projection or volume.

Also, Fletch. There are two films of this character featuring Chevy Chase. Due to be made/released this year is a new version, Fletch Won, featuring Zach Braff to be written and directed by Bill Lawrence, the writer of Scrubs. I don't think there could be a better combination to make this film, although as I said a few days ago, Ryan Reynolds wouldn't be bad. Does it need to be made? Probably not, but I'll look forward to it anyway. There are nine Fletch novels by the writer Gregory McDonald (the first made into a movie ten years after publication). Fletch Won is the title of the eighth.

Wednesday

How good is Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai? Well, I used to think it was a very good film when I was younger. I saw a few clips* of it yesterday, and I believe it remains so. Although the readings from Samurai texts are perhaps a little pretentious (the quotes of the movie on IMDb are almost exclusively from them), the whole feel of the film is highly original. Two bits about it always annoyed me: the mafia boss doing rap, and the line that goes something like 'this is high noon, like in the movies'. Those two things always snapped me out of the mood of the film. Aside from that, there are so many great moments, attitudes, atmospheres and settings. That Forest Whitaker's best friend doesn't understand anything he says is great. The girl is perhaps a little annoying. Overall, it doesn't force anything upon you, but draws you along slowly. I can understand how many people might not like this at all. But I do. What else has Jarmusch done? Broken Flowers, Dead Man, and Coffee and Cigarettes. I think overrated by people who like them, and underrated by people who don't.

*Due to no more film viewing being possible this week, I'm afraid you'll once more have to put with me talking about bits of movies.

Tuesday

There was a strange audience in the cinema to see The Good German. I'm not sure how to explain or understand that, but it perturbed me greatly. Who goes to see this film? It doesn't fit into many categories clearly. Anyway, I advise those with sensitive dispositions to look away now. I won't reveal any important details, but I think just talking about this movie might ruin it for you. So don't read any more of this post if you intend to see it, at any point.

Ok, so Steven Soderbergh decided to make a film in a 40s/50s style. I won't try to understand why, but I was intrigued enough to go see it. Overall, it's very disappointing. Two points annoyed me: he didn't commit fully enough to the style, but he was caught up so much in style he forgot character and plot. Apart from a few admittedly very good moments (when she pulls a gun on him, the boy with the boat, the revelations etc) I was utterly bored by the storyline. The characters weren't at all interesting and, apart from Cate Blanchet, they were terribly cast and acted. Then, on the other hand, I wasn't convinced by the look. The film was too clear and too crisp, the shades between black and white too clearly defined. It was very obviously a modern movie. The music was good, but the sound design was bad. The whole thing was amateurish: the mish-mash of old stock footage with new, the in-car dialogues. He should've fully committed to the era - instead we had strangely out of place scenes: swear words, and mildly-explicit sex. The setting was very promising - Berlin just after the war - but it wasn't fully taken advantage of. As I said, this is disappointing. It had certain scenes that were excellent (the murder in the crowd), but there were too many moments when I was bored or confused. Perhaps the audience's first reaction to the out-of-date titles, although harsh, was the most revealing: they laughed.

Monday

Because Films Inspire... name changes, the NFT will now be known as the BFI Southbank. As a primarily repertory theatre I had left it out of my attempt to visit every cinema in central London, but I'm sure I'll visit it now in its new guise. Only, what is the point of this new guise? Was the NFT losing money, or prestige? I don't know, but it's happened, or rather it will happen on Wednesday.

Have I mentioned here before my like of Ryan Reynolds? Some consider him just a mediocre comedy actor. But I think he's much more than that. Watch his reactions off dialogue in Van Wilder. This guy should be the next Chevy Chase. He just needs good writers and directors supporting him. Plus he's got the whole alliteration thing going for him. In Smokin' Aces he proved, to me at least, that he can also act straight roles impressively. A good line, brilliantly performed, from Van Wilder: 'Her name's Naomi. That's "I moan" backwards. I put in a good word for you'.

Sunday

I have recently completed a secret mission which I had not told you about. This mission, which I chose to accept, was to see a film at every cinema in central London. It may not seem like a big task to you, but I did not try to force it. I went to see films I wanted to see, when I wanted to see them. This, perhaps, is why it has taken so long. But it is done. I've been to them all*. What's my favourite? And what's my worst? Who gives the best customer service? Who makes the best popcorn? Whose seats are the comfiest? Well, you'll just have to tune in later this week to find out.

I realised today that my televisual viewing is dire. I watch a lot of science fiction: Supernatural, Primeval, Ghost Whisperer. Then there's House, Prison Break, and the new Ray Liotta show Smith. Add into that CSI: Miami, Friends, Futurama, Family Guy and American Dad and you've got a pretty odd mix. But let's not forget My Name is Earl. And to think two years ago I promised myself I'd never watch TV again...

*I excluded the Odeon Bayswater from my mission. I don't think it's in central London. Also, the Rex Cinema is really a private nightclub, not a public theatre, and therefore doesn't count.

Saturday

The quote above by Tarantino is fairly self-explanatory: if you want to make movies, make movies. It hints, however, towards what most people see as the main obstacle to making films: compromise. Film, perhaps more than any other medium, is a co-operative art form. You cannot make one on your own (or you can, but it will be a rare exception). You can write a novel, and no one can touch it. But to get a film made you need actors, you need to buy the equipment, you need technical help for sound, photography, editing, production and then promoting. You have to compromise with what other people want, notably producers. In a way, Tarantino's quote is a fallacy. You can't just make a film because you want to. You need the help of other people. However, what he points to is a sheer determinism and enthusiasm that can force a film to be made, whatever the circumstances. This is the key.

Friday

A slight delay in stranded postings this weekend due to the combined factors of working and not watching movies. So, whilst I try to catch up, I'm afraid you'll have to put up with me pontificating* about abstract principles of film-making, and presuming things about movies which I've only watched snippets of, rather than reviewing them fully. I saw a bit of I Still Know What You Did Last Summer the other night. I'm fairly sure I've watched it all the way through before, but I'd never noticed, or realised, that Jack Black was in it. How is this possible? Perhaps it was before he was famous, or before I knew he was famous. What I'm really trying to get at here, though, is that Jack Black is a very interesting actor who combines the absurd (Nacho Libre) with the serious (King Kong). He does bring a bit of comedy to all his serious roles, but I think it is quite an achievement to combine the two so successfully. You are really convinced of him in every role - I think mainly because of his enormous sense of commitment to each moment. I wish he'd do more serious roles, though, and less frat boy farces.

*Where does 'pontificating' come from? Well, quite simply from acting like a pontiff. First recorded in about 1825.

Thursday

I'm not entirely sure how to review Climates, or whether it was good or not. Certainly it was interesting, and compelling, but would I ever need to watch it again? The first five minutes immediately impose upon you the pace of the movie - a shot of a woman's face. There is one line of dialogue, then we remain with the woman, her hair blowing in the wind, as she gradually starts crying. You have to slow down your heart-rate and prepare yourself for what's going to be an hour and a half of people sitting in rooms and not saying anything to each other. You might get very irritated otherwise. There are shocks, however, that startle you out of your sedative state. These I enjoyed the most, and was half-thrilled, half-annoyed by some of the camera perspective tricks. At times the film is painfully sensitive, and perhaps too real to bear (I believe they are actually husband and wife), but it is always brilliantly handled - such as the constant interruptions in the van. Two things that stuck out as unnecessary: turning the music off with the radio (it's been done a thousand times before), and the fade out at the end. Otherwise, I would thoroughly recommend you see this as something totally different from normal film viewing.

Wednesday

I'm thinking of starting a new weekly feature for this blog (the other one, hiding itself rather subtly, is a regular discussion of the header quote) called 'movies you didn't know that guy was in'. It'll be a slight homage/theft from the book Hey! It's That Guy!, which will involve me browsing around the IMDb, finding bizarre facts, and then pretending I'm intelligent for knowing them before you. What do you think?

It was interesting to read a review of The Good Shepherd which said the movie's biggest flaw was what I thought was its greatest strength: the silent main character. They said there wasn't enough action or fun to compensate for him. Another person I read said 'nothing happens', that the 'first hour isn't necessary' and that 'DeNiro shouldn't be let behind the camera again'. Am I crazy, or are they?

Tuesday

The Good Shepherd is a brilliant film. I had gone into it expecting to be bored. The trailers had made it look quite dull and uninteresting, and I had noticed the film was almost three hours long. So, I sat down in my seat grudgingly, preparing to criticise the movie. Straight away, however, I was interested. Nothing was explained. I don't mean that the film is a mystery, or deliberately cryptic, but that it treats its audience as intelligent. The division Eddie Izzard makes between British and American movies is illuminating here; in the former people wander around in empty houses opening doors and not saying anything to each other; in the latter people express their emotions immediately and they have extreme consequences. The Good Shepherd, although American, is definitely more British in its sentiment. We are not told what or how to think. Things are not explained or sign-posted to us brashly. The movie, in a way, is very straightforward, very clear. But rather than naive, I would rather label this mature. Its presentation exactly mirrors its main character, excellent played by Matt Damon (who can't have more than thirty seconds of consecutive dialogue throughout). He is silent and contemplative, acts and offers no explanations to us for his acts. Angelina Jolie is unsuitable as his wife, and his son looks a little bit too old to be believable, but otherwise everyone else is good. There are no clever tricks, or hints at a contemporary political message. It's about a man, a sensitively portrayed man, his actions and their flaws. A very refreshing film.

Monday

There is quite an exciting feature to the IMDb that I noticed today (I'm not sure if it's new or not). I was browing the profile of Max Ophuls and thinking 'I wish there was some way I could find directors similar to him'. I then noticed under the listing of one of his films there were some 'plot keywords'. I clicked on one and it took me to a whole list of films with similar themes. For example: Cigarette Smoking. You can browse all films of this type, ranked in order. To make your search more specific, you can then combine keywords to get just the kind of film you're in the mood for: Cigarette Smoking/ Jumping from Heights/ Man on Fire. Apparently this system is called Moka (Movie Keywords Analyzer). It is fun, but it does have some flaws. They could have been a lot more adventurous with it. And I still didn't find a way to view directors similar to Ophuls. By the way, the film you're looking for is Anchorman.

Sunday

I saw a bit of the Truman Show last night. I had always liked the film. But last night I realised something new, in a similar way to my thoughts about eXistenZ. The movie is not really about reality TV shows. That is its context, but its content is radically different. It is really about all of us. The film is about life in general, about how we all deal with who we are and what we want to be. We are all trapped in a routine, in a way of living, and the expectations of everyone around us to live the way they want us to live. The film is about a crisis in life, in the meaning of life. It is about an overcoming of his disability, and the fulfilling of who he really wants to be. The reality TV thing is just a side issue, not really relevant at all. I wondered as I was watching it what happened to the director, Peter Weir. He is a bit slow in his film making, but he did recently make the excellent Master and Commander, which gets better every time I see it (I first saw it on a trans-Atlantic flight). I can't wait for his next film.

Saturday

So, eXistenZ is a weird film. I feel like I've only ever seen it in bits. Last night was no exception. I saw it from more than half an hour in until the end. Perhaps I have never seen it all the way through? Perhaps the best way to see it is in parts? Anyway, last night I realised something new about it. The film is a comment on film-making itself. It deconstructs plot and narrative and character construction, in the same moment that it is trying to construct them. Whilst this is interesting, it is acted by Jude Law, which is a bad thing. On the other hand, there is Jennifer Jason Leigh, who is excellent. So this movie seems to flick between self-indulgent introversion to perceptive insights into the nature of fiction. Reality and virtual become confused and are never resolved even at the end of the movie. It's a very good set-piece, but because you, as audience, are constantly undermined by the filmmakers it's hard to take sincerely or seriously. Still, maybe I should see it from beginning to end, as intended.

Friday

The quote above from Alfred Hitchcock adorns the foyer of the Odeon cinema in Covent Garden (if I haven't already said, one of my favourites). It backs up the sentiments I expressed a few days ago, but there is more to it than that. Frequently filmmakers shoot more than one ending to a movie. They then show them to an audience and see what they prefer. One that immediately springs to mind is the original ending to Dodgeball where the good guys lose and the bad guys win. As you can imagine, audiences didn't like this at all and the ending was changed. So, Hitchcock's quote refers not just to spoiling a movie, but to movie-making in general. It makes you doubt a director's ability when you find out how many endings they shot - especially if you love the ending you saw. Can you think of any more? The Break-Up was one of my favourite films from last year, but apparently there were several different endings shot. All of them, however, only changed the emphasis slightly, not the facts. This gives me some faith in the filmmaker.

Thursday

I saw Letters from Iwo Jima yesterday (having once again misread the show times), but have been hesitating to post a review. Why? Well, I'm simply not sure what I think of it. Perhaps I need to see Flags of our Fathers to get some perspective, but I don't think the two films are related at all. From what I know, the latter is all about the after effects of the battle on American soldiers. The one I saw is about the run up to the battle from the Japanese perspective. Of course there are lots of connections, but in terms of direct relations, I don't think there are any. So, I must struggle to give a verdict of this one alone. I did think it was good. But it was overlong and sometimes rambling. The forward thrust was sometimes lost in irrelevant details as things started, stopped, then started again. In truth, at moments I got bored waiting for something to happen. Perhaps the greatest interest of this film, then, is to have shown the battle from a Japanese perspective. But I think there's more than that here. The filmmaker doesn't take sides at all. No one is good or bad. It is a stunning insight into the breakdown of an ideology, the loss of control and order, as soldiers wander randomly around the caves, trying to avoid Americans, occasionally committing suicide, or killing each other for trying to surrender. It is fascinating, but I have doubts as to how long it will stand as a really good film.