tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61438667714422285512024-03-23T20:06:20.287+02:00Cerebral MasticationWhere the dewdrops cry, and the cats meow...Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.comBlogger91125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-44125924531333449812008-02-14T14:29:00.003+02:002011-05-06T19:31:40.366+02:00“My son has an office on the right hand of Jesus”<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXlOnbpsG3gWkRU5h0TeuXqcMbdWtu1Fbfft7Cg-Iovovc9yTS7n3rQw84TKvEd2Iu1-heBBKViuuarxLI8NaeEeF_9SRptsNuG4Bpntd8IYht639GhONMGN_11kTx3Dka6pMMmuN-dZI/s1600-h/curb.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166813973329659906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXlOnbpsG3gWkRU5h0TeuXqcMbdWtu1Fbfft7Cg-Iovovc9yTS7n3rQw84TKvEd2Iu1-heBBKViuuarxLI8NaeEeF_9SRptsNuG4Bpntd8IYht639GhONMGN_11kTx3Dka6pMMmuN-dZI/s400/curb.jpg" border="0" /></a>The sixth season of <em>Curb Your Enthusiasm</em> finished here last week, and I had been mulling over a review/recap of it when <a href="http://eddieonfilm.blogspot.com/2008/02/delayed-enthusiasm.html">Edward Copeland</a> beat me to the punch with a DVD review of the season. I agree with Edward that the fifth season was mostly uneven, though our opinions differ as to that season’s finale, which I thought was terrible. Thank god it didn’t end up being the series finale like Larry David originally planned.<br /><br />Among my real life friends (all three of them), I am universally alone in my unabashed enthusiasm for <em>Curb Your Enthusiasm</em>. The show had slipped under my radar in the UK, where <em>Seinfeld</em> has never been a hit (and had been condemned to the graveyard slot during its initial run), which, subsequently, meant that <em>Curb</em>’s launch never had the kind of in-built momentum as it had in the US. Incidentally, a pet peeve of mine is the way many Brits dismiss American comedy, especially sitcoms, as nothing more than workmanlike series of sappy family humour or frat boy-friendly histrionics (not that there’s anything wrong with that). But that’s an unfair simplification of a genre, which is most natural to American television, and in which it clearly thrives. In fact, it is British sitcoms that are generally dreadful, and <em>The Office</em> and <em>The League of Gentlemen</em> and <em>Phoenix Nights</em>, all of them sublime, are all but oases in the barren Sahara that is British television comedy.<br /><br />Anyway, back on topic: Larry David is one of the great storytellers currently working in television. I’ve been watching the fourth season of <em>Seinfeld</em> these past few days – the break-out season, and the first one with an overwhelming arc ("The Jerry Show"). Although Seinfeld would use arcs in its later seasons, to varying degrees of success, The Jerry Show arc is the one that is closest to the way Larry David has fashioned all seasons of <em>Curb Your Enthusiasm</em> after its debut season. In fact, the clockwork precision of the second, third, fourth - and now the sixth - seasons, the way the episodes, and the overall arcs, inexorably lead to an ineluctable outcome, and yet still manage to be supremely surprising once they get there, is a testament to David’s perfect grasp of screwball and farce. The show’s cinema (or television) verité style and its indebtedness to such disparate influences as Moliere, Alan Ayckbourn, Phil Silvers, Mel Brooks, Joe Keenan etc only serve to highlight David’s tremendous achievement. The style complements the substance – the apparent haphazardness of the single-camera approach and the mainly improvised dialogue the yin to the yang of the plot’s labyrinthine machinations.<br /><br />The main arc of the show’s sixth season finds The Davids’ “adopting” an African-American family who’ve been left homeless in the wake of a Katrina-like Hurricane. Fortuitously enough, they happen to be called The Blacks. It’s these too-on-the-nose set-ups that I love about David’s comedy. You know that something most awkward is going to happen with a combination like that – but you just don’t know exactly what. Leon Black, the up-to-no-good, plebian, loud-mouth nephew could usually be interpreted as an attempt to extend a show’s appeal to different demographics – but not in this one. Stereotypes are introduced in an off-handed way, and then subsequently demolished with the same ease. The second arc involves Sheryl dumping Larry when the latter prefers to deal with the TiVo guy instead of talking to his wife, who’s called him from her plane that’s seemingly about to crash. (There is so much I can relate to in that particular plotline – I’ve had an ex who used to call me only three-minutes before The Sopranos would start, and then complain that I wasn’t paying her any attention. Don’t make me choose between you and Tony, hon. Yes, I am a moron.) All the actors do sterling work – the veterans have grown into their roles, and you can see affectations, and lines coming to them naturally. Watch as Larry David tries to stay “in-character” after Jeff Garlin’s adlib at the Laundromat: “At home, I keep photos of all my dry cleaners on the wall.” The additions to the cast, JB Smoove (best. name. ever.), Vivica Fox, Ellie English are equally great.<br /><br />And then there’s the finale – which comes completely out of left field, and is in such contrast to the general cynicism of the show that it’s not just an artistic non sequitur, but almost Lynchesque in its weirdness. Truly, truly a work of genius.<br /><br />Postscript: The show had an 11.00PM slot here, which is now occupied by <em>Californication</em>. I suppose the thinking was that, sometimes, just before you go to bed, you want to see a bald man make a tit of himself. And other times, you just want to see tits. Fair enough. </div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-34061335700809218162010-03-08T03:13:00.073+02:002010-03-08T17:20:57.625+02:002010 Oscars Live Blog<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFH-RdfIrgmys9dHgaJXFgPiu3IlAcCNzFXHYegRZGm3yItJ9jWdWKNQzWTIH7iddgvwWgZ8NB_z_qhZ3ExaiYEa5Jhr8kY72UreCTWPl-wlPlvJUHExoAUPZbjfkjpyfELkUi1f90JjY/s1600-h/the-hurt-locker.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFH-RdfIrgmys9dHgaJXFgPiu3IlAcCNzFXHYegRZGm3yItJ9jWdWKNQzWTIH7iddgvwWgZ8NB_z_qhZ3ExaiYEa5Jhr8kY72UreCTWPl-wlPlvJUHExoAUPZbjfkjpyfELkUi1f90JjY/s400/the-hurt-locker.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446123660326104482" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEAblXrGgfRyijRc7Mz6DxKFgSDo2ilW4XzvKdBnGcvtzmBU716FVykUnY6GLzqyYUjoCHw8iwDNo9WqfI77GQ8F7A8yMO_W-p9fs2Dgtd19HmusR1Hodiz-gT5pvDwHELuVjvNiZR0os/s1600-h/oscars.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 220px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446065740998306690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEAblXrGgfRyijRc7Mz6DxKFgSDo2ilW4XzvKdBnGcvtzmBU716FVykUnY6GLzqyYUjoCHw8iwDNo9WqfI77GQ8F7A8yMO_W-p9fs2Dgtd19HmusR1Hodiz-gT5pvDwHELuVjvNiZR0os/s400/oscars.jpg" /></a>Welcome to the 2010 Oscars live blog. Keep hitting reload for all the latest updates. Techno, techno, techno, techno.<br /><br />6:58AM – Istanbul/8:58PM – L.A.<br /><br />"The Hurt Locker." Great stuff.<br /><br />Laters, everyone. Thanks for reading.<br /><br />6:55AM – Istanbul/8:55PM – L.A.<br /><br />Kathryn Bigelow -- booya!<br /><br />6:52AM – Istanbul/8:52PM – L.A.<br /><br />La Streisand!<br /><br />6:51AM – Istanbul/8:51PM – L.A.<br /><br />Charlize Theron's dress. There. Bring on the hits!<br /><br />6:49AM – Istanbul/8:49PM – L.A.<br /><br />Did Sandra Bullock just acknowledge the juggernaut of an Oscar campaign her people ran for her? Awesome.<br /><br />6:48AM – Istanbul/8:48PM – L.A.<br /><br />What are you on about, Sean?<br /><br />6:46AM – Istanbul/8:46PM – L.A.<br /><br />I WANTS 2 LICK STANLEY TUCCIS SHINY HEAD.<br /><br />6:43AM – Istanbul/8:43PM – L.A.<br /><br />Short hair doesn't become Carey Mulligan. Neither does no hair Peter Sarsgaard.<br /><br />6:37AM – Istanbul/8:37PM – L.A.<br /><br />Three more to go. No real surprises, only a few mid-level ones. I really hope we get a streaker or something.<br /><br />6:30AM – Istanbul/8:30PM – L.A.<br /><br />Please say "The Dude Abides." Please say "The Dude Abides." Please say "The Dude Abides." Please say "The Dude Abides." Please say "The Dude Abides." Please say "The Dude Abides." Please say "The Dude Abides." Please say "The Dude Abides." Please say "The Dude Abides." Please say "The Dude Abides." Please say "The Dude Abides." <br /><br />6:27AM – Istanbul/8:27PM – L.A.<br /><br />The mini-tributes are better than last year's ones, though.<br /><br />That close-up on Jeff Bridges' beautiful face. Possibly the best moment of the night so far. Go Jeff!<br /><br />6:24AM – Istanbul/8:24PM – L.A.<br /><br />Oh, great. They're doing the "mini-tributes" from last year.<br /><br />6:22AM – Istanbul/8:22PM – L.A.<br /><br />By the way, they just played the theme from "Amarcord" as tarantino and Almodovar came on stage to present the foreign film award. Unexpected, but welcome.<br /><br />6:18AM – Istanbul/8:18PM – L.A.<br /><br />Best foreign film is about to go to Die Children Von Den Corn aka "The White Ribbon."<br /><br />It doesn't! It goes to "The Secret In Their Eyes!" And I had an awesome Haneke acceptance speech joke. Alas, it will never see the light of day. Like tears in the rain, etc...<br /><br />6:14AM – Istanbul/8:14PM – L.A.<br /><br />Get on with it. I have to go for a run before I go to work.<br /><br />6:12AM – Istanbul/8:12PM – L.A.<br /><br />Sitemeter Update: Lots of folks are googling "crazy woman oscar acceptance speech." For once, they don't mean Sally Field.<br /><br />6:09AM – Istanbul/8:09PM – L.A.<br /><br />Keanu Reeves? Oh, "Point Break." I see. You gonna jump or jerk off? Good times.<br /><br />6:01AM – Istanbul/8:01PM – L.A.<br /><br />Hey, wait! George Minkowski from Lost produced "The Cove?" Chaos reigns. <br /><br />5:59AM – Istanbul/7:59PM – L.A.<br /><br />Surprised Sam Elliott was not recognised for reprising his character The Stranger from "The Big Lebowski" in "Up In The Air."<br /><br />5:55AM – Istanbul/7:55PM – L.A.<br /><br />Farrah Fawcett was not featured during the "In Memoriam" segment. John Spencer was also not in the segment the year he died. The producers might have a bias against "TV actors."<br /><br />5:52AM – Istanbul/7:52PM – L.A.<br /><br />I am extremely happy for Michael Giacchino (even though I preferred Hans Zimmer's score for "Sherlock Holmes"). He is the next John Williams, <em>and</em> he is doing sterling work with his Lost score.<br /><br /><br />5:49AM – Istanbul/7:49PM – L.A.<br /><br />OK, I'm sorry, I was wrong. Some dude is doing the robot to the score from "Up." If the rest of the show were like this, we'd have something.<br /><br />5:48AM – Istanbul/7:48PM – L.A.<br /><br />You remember the dancing Mother Theresa clip in the third "Naked Gun?" That was fun.<br /><br />5:47AM – Istanbul/7:47PM – L.A.<br /><br />I LIEK DANCIN. HIPPITY HOPPITY.<br /><br />5:46AM – Istanbul/7:46PM – L.A.<br /><br />Is it me or has Jennifer Lopez's accent gone more Latina?<br /><br />Oh, goodie - no song performances in a year full of great tunes - instead, dancing! More coffee, methinks.<br /><br />5:39AM – Istanbul/7:39PM – L.A.<br /><br />Demi Moore is presenting the "In Memoriam" segment. Included in the clipshow is her career.<br /><br />Sandra Bullock over-enunciates Mauro Fiore's name, who thanks "the visionary James Cameron for his incredible vision." Urm, LOLZ?<br /><br />5:24AM – Istanbul/7:24PM – L.A.<br /><br />Wow! Tobin Bell's a sound editor, too! That guy's multi-talented.<br /><br />5:24AM – Istanbul/7:24PM – L.A.<br /><br />I am glad they got Morgan Freeman to explain to me what a sound editor does. I hope they'll do the same for the director.<br /><br />5:20AM – Istanbul/7:20PM – L.A.<br /><br />Retro! They used Busta Rhymes' "Gimme Some More" to score the horror montage.<br /><br />5:20AM – Istanbul/7:20PM – L.A.<br /><br />I'd have found "Paranormal Activity" more frightening if there were such a thing as a demon.<br /><br />5:18AM – Istanbul/7:18PM – L.A.<br /><br />I LIKD PRESHUS. PEEPS THREW THINGS.<br /><br />5:14AM – Istanbul/7:14PM – L.A.<br /><br />The clips from "Precious: Based on a novel by a man named Lear" just make me want to revisit the incredible <a href="http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/635e8e0e5b/precious-moments">"Precious Moments"</a> viral from earlier this year. <br /><br />5:06AM – Istanbul/7:06PM – L.A.<br /><br />Art Direction goes to Roger Dean.<br /><br />5:02AM – Istanbul/7:02PM – L.A.<br /><br />"You touched it, the whole world saw it." Discarded tagline for "Precious?"<br /><br />4:58AM – Istanbul/6:58PM – L.A.<br /><br />Go Anna Kendrick! Obviously Mo'Nique has this in the bag, but still...<br /><br />4:54AM – Istanbul/6:54PM – L.A.<br /><br />Roger Corman and Lauren Bacall. Miley Cyrus is thinking? Roger Who and Lauren What?<br /><br />4:51AM – Istanbul/6:51PM – L.A.<br /><br />There goes "Up In The Air's" consolation prize.<br /><br />4:48AM – Istanbul/6:48PM – L.A.<br /><br />Please, please, please "In The Loop."<br /><br />Hah! They probably could not get a Malcolm Tucker clip that didn't have any swears.<br /><br />4:43AM – Istanbul/6:43PM – L.A.<br /><br />Not one mention of Gene Roddenberry. After all, he only <em>created</em> Star Trek.<br /><br />4:43AM – Istanbul/6:43PM – L.A.<br /><br />I LIKD STAR TREK. SHINY.<br /><br />4:38AM – Istanbul/6:38PM – L.A.<br /><br />The Ben Stiller bit is awesome.<br /><br />Did you see Stiller at the Indies? You must.<br /><br />4:38AM – Istanbul/6:38PM – L.A.<br /><br />Please spare poor Jim's feelings.<br /><br />4:32AM – Istanbul/6:32PM – L.A.<br /><br />The crazy lady during the best documentary short acceptance speech was pretty awesome, I must say.<br /><br />The New Tenants -- yay! Go, Denmark!<br /><br />4:31AM – Istanbul/6:31PM – L.A.<br /><br />It's really rather dull so far, no?<br /><br />4:28AM – Istanbul/6:28PM – L.A.<br /><br />Fuck! Carey Mulligan's ripped!<br /><br />4:26AM – Istanbul/6:26PM – L.A.<br /><br />The shot of Taylor Lautner and Kristen Stewart at the end of the John Hughes segment? IRONICCUTTINGBOMB!<br /><br />4:20AM – Istanbul/6:20PM – L.A.<br /><br />The John Hughes tribute is gorgeous.<br /><br />BTW, either Molly Ringwald's wearing giant heels or Carrie Bradshaw married a pixie-man.<br /><br />4:16AM – Istanbul/6:16PM – L.A.<br /><br />OK. "The Hurt Locker" wins best film.<br /><br />4:14AM – Istanbul/6:14PM – L.A.<br /><br />Best Original Screenplay, and I am pretty sure Tarantino has this in the bag. Nostradamus, c'est moi.<br /><br />4:11AM – Istanbul/6:11PM – L.A.<br /><br />Oh, the writing awards. No chance, I know, but go "In The Loop."<br /><br />4:07AM – Istanbul/6:07PM – L.A.<br /><br />DISTRICT 9 RULEZ. ALIS MORON.<br /><br />4:05AM – Istanbul/6:05PM – L.A.<br /><br />"Part science fiction, part thriller." Don't tell me, "Aliens in the Attic," right.<br /><br />By the way, I liked "District 9" a whole lot less than pretty much anyone on the planet. And not just because I'm a natural contrarian (which I'm not, actually).<br /><br />4:00AM – Istanbul/6:00PM – L.A.<br /><br />I'm happy that Ryan Bingham and T-Bone Burnett won, but I thought it was "Fallin' & Flyin'" and "Somebody Else" that were truly outstanding.<br /><br />3:59AM – Istanbul/5:59PM – L.A.<br /><br />"Just imagine this whole stage filled with the best cast and crew." Fine. I'm thinking "Debbie Does Dallas."<br /><br />3:58AM – Istanbul/5:58PM – L.A.<br /><br />"Up!" Just as I'd predicted.<br /><br />3:57AM – Istanbul/5:57PM – L.A.<br /><br />I'm predicting a win for "Fantastic Mr. Fox." Why not?<br /><br />I never, never, NEVER enjoy these cutesy nomination clips for the best animated feature.<br /><br />3:53AM – Istanbul/5:53PM – L.A.<br /><br />OH HAI. IM ALIS KAT SHMI. ILL BE MAKIN OCCASHUNAL APPEARANCEZ WHEN HEZ AWAY. HEERS TEH FURST. I LIEK AVATAR. IT HAS KAT PEEPS AN SHINY THINGS. KTHXBAI.<br /><br />3:47AM – Istanbul/5:47PM – L.A.<br /><br />Go, Christoph. Uber-bingo, indeed.<br /><br />If my sarcasm did not come through, Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin's opening skit would have worked better as a monologue (for Martin).<br /><br />I did like Waltz's speech. Short, sweet, and it also had a maritime metaphor.<br /><br />3:44AM – Istanbul/5:44PM – L.A.<br /><br />Oh, did I see “Nine?” Nein. I thank you.<br /><br />3:43AM – Istanbul/5:43PM – L.A.<br /><br />“Invictus” combines two of my greatest passions: rugby and dodgy accents.<br /><br />I love you Steve Martin, and your ludicrously inappropriate yet ludicrously awesome Hitler memorabilia joke. (My blog’s going to get some weird hits now)<br /><br />Jim Cameron – the man embodies humility. I hope his fragile feelings don’t get hurt by the intergalactic dandelions gag.<br /><br />Have a drink every time someone mentions Bigelow and Cameron used to be married.<br /><br />“The motherload!” The opening monologue’s the best in years.<br /><br />3:31AM – Istanbul/5:31PM – L.A.<br /><br />Ooh, Neil Patrick Harris! Well played, Shankman!<br /><br />Was that all the acting nominees or just the frontrunners? If it was the latter, than it’s a bit of a bummer for the others, no?<br /><br />3:20AM – Istanbul/5:20PM – L.A.<br /><br />Miley Cyrus AND Taylor Lautner are here? Tweedledum and Tweedledumber. Joy!<br /><br />Earlier, I saw Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon, who were wonderful together in “Guess Who’s Coming to Rugby.”<br /><br />The neurons in my brain are committing ritual suicide as retribution for my watching these red carpet interviews.Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-70445685707260538192009-09-19T15:01:00.007+02:002009-09-19T15:13:37.736+02:00"Er war ein Mann der Frauen, Frauen liebten seinen Punk"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj80Qfcb8dSslSmcH4Jq2HJNsEPyRqs-TyRddqs5xAJ8YOBOkC_8J4fStt1EPZJ3VOj0VJDGw5ijQZ843Sjz09kS6wF6FcC6l9wGs_UCLMGKEf8FKQMKU9zDwWUWynePtJTGA7S1qab54E/s1600-h/amadeus.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 296px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383165158175761426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj80Qfcb8dSslSmcH4Jq2HJNsEPyRqs-TyRddqs5xAJ8YOBOkC_8J4fStt1EPZJ3VOj0VJDGw5ijQZ843Sjz09kS6wF6FcC6l9wGs_UCLMGKEf8FKQMKU9zDwWUWynePtJTGA7S1qab54E/s400/amadeus.jpg" /></a><br />Today marks the 25th anniversary of the release of Milos Forman's <em>Amadeus. </em>Head on over to <a href="http://eddieonfilm.blogspot.com/">Edward Copeland on Film</a> to read my retrospective. "But I can't wait, at least give us a lede!" OK, then.<br /><br /><blockquote><p align="justify">The tragedy of Antonio Salieri is the driving force behind Miloš Forman’s film version of Peter Shaffer’s seminal play. Here is a pious man, in complete devotion to what he believes to be a God of Grace and Mercy. Salieri has rejected almost all of life’s earthly pleasures, has offered God his undying love, “his industry, his deepest humility,” and, of course, his chastity. All he’s ever asked for in return is a soupçon of that divine Grace to manifest itself in the form of talent. God, however, has picked as a favourite not Salieri, but instead a vulgar ninny, who is not only anathema to all that Salieri believes in, but, through whom, his lack of talent is only made more explicit. God has given Salieri deranged ambition for, and an infinite love of, music, but withheld from him the elements required to realise it. This contumelious God has shared with the world a part of himself, all the while making a mockery of his faithful servant Salieri by rejecting his piety. Knowing his predilection for irony, there’s no wonder Peter Shaffer called his play not Mozart, not even Salieri, but <em>Amadeus</em>.</p></blockquote>To read the rest of the article at <a href="http://eddieonfilm.blogspot.com/">Edward Copeland on Film</a>, click <a href="http://eddieonfilm.blogspot.com/2008/09/just-right-amount-of-notes.html">here</a>.Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-41465145658876753822008-05-02T10:25:00.008+02:002009-06-15T18:34:40.957+02:00They mostly come out at night... Mostly.<div align="justify">A bunch of us have a weekly game of footy on Saturday afternoons, and even though I have been sparing the wider world the sheer awesomeness of my footballing skills of late, I still partake in the post-match sessions. The one we had a few weeks ago was particularly harsh. The next morning I woke up with the mother of all hangovers, who turned out to be a particularly unwelcome houseguest, not leaving right away, asking me to cook her breakfast – the whole shebang. Well, the only way one can banish such unpleasantness to the fiery pits of hell from whence it came, I find, is to go for a comfort run, sweat it out, have some greasy comfort food, and slouch in front of the telly, watching a comfort movie. My choice was <em>Gremlins</em>, which I followed with its sublime sequel. <a href="http://sergioleoneifr.blogspot.com/search?q=joe+dante">The inimitable Dennis Cozzalio has been covering the great Joe Dante for the past few weeks in a traditionally spectacular fashion</a>, and you can see why watching just those two movies. </div><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">Dennis writes:</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><em>For this reason, not nearly so many people as should tend to understand that movies like Gremlins 2: The New Batch, Explorers, The ‘burbs and his HBO film The Second Civil War are masterpieces of design, effect, satire and social commentary that far outstrip most of the movies that august bodies tend to crown with awards. Dante's movies are firecrackers, ones you shouldn't hold in your hands for long. They snap, crackle, pop and outright supernova with the kind of exuberance that most directors half his age can’t muster. Don Mancini’s Seed of Chucky is about the only movie that can stand anywhere near Gremlins 2 as an acid-blooded, tear-the-roof-off-the-joint studio sequel that makes the very idea of a sequel its radically funny foundation, a foundation from which a virtual house of mirrors explodes and plasters the walls of the cinema with a thousand different angles on creative cannibalism.</em></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">The following clip brightened up my morning. Just hearing that theme tune again… </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iA1iQm413No&hl=" width="425" height="355" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed><br /><br /></div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-20224319392778137742009-05-21T18:39:00.005+02:002009-05-21T18:46:03.167+02:00Star Trash<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_WdzNcOdOrDNNAv293WIqmjQxTAYcCXf_T6W6eUQPsMzwLs4VayZcEoajoqB-lGO9Cvj1oxfepjdJxqJgdp40BKYlAcYN6PyAKAWN3Sy7gPn-rxladhr0bjgrCU_L_d9JIOI6zHZXrI/s1600-h/Trek02.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338319101611911234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 275px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_WdzNcOdOrDNNAv293WIqmjQxTAYcCXf_T6W6eUQPsMzwLs4VayZcEoajoqB-lGO9Cvj1oxfepjdJxqJgdp40BKYlAcYN6PyAKAWN3Sy7gPn-rxladhr0bjgrCU_L_d9JIOI6zHZXrI/s400/Trek02.jpg" border="0" /></a>Oh blessed be, nerds; oh happy day! Time to gambol. <em>Star Trek</em> is finally cool! HUZZAH! And here’s the bonus: J.J. Abrams, the director, and Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman, the writers, have found ingeniously oafish ways of crowbarring every single aspect of common <em>Trek</em> lore into the film. The single most moving line in the history of the entire <em>Star Trek</em> canon is destroyed to underline a scene that would have otherwise been quite powerful. It’s obvious the filmmakers studied Gene Roddenberry’s space saga closely, got to know it inside out, and it shows in their slavish and graceless dedication to the franchise. But, you know what they say: Knowledge is knowing tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in your fruit salad.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://www.thehousenextdooronline.com/2009/05/star-trek-90210-or-star-trash-or.html"><span style="font-size:160%;">Click here to read the rest of the article at <em>The House Next Door</em>.</span></a> </div></div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-52998637485974808652009-03-04T20:09:00.002+02:002009-03-04T20:23:29.315+02:00Arnie at CeBIT<div align="justify">Arnold Schwarzenegger was a guest of honour at the recent Cebit Conference in Germany, where he delivered, what I assume to be, the keynote address in front of a whole bunch of business people and dignitaries, including the German Chancellor Angela Merkel. The remarks were in English at first, though he segued into German half way through, and the following clip is the last few minutes of his speech.</div><div align="justify"><br />Schwarzenegger’s most important quality as an action star was his sense of humour. It’s great to see that he’s still got it. If you don’t speak German, that’s OK (though you really should learn how to because it’s a great language), but pay attention around the 1:40 mark. I will replace the clip with a better version should I find one.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RL-p_Kx9v6A&hl=" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" fs="1"></embed>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-69774226679113884052009-02-23T03:10:00.045+02:002009-02-23T07:02:00.012+02:00Oscars Liveblog<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLIiixyUqgmt2L17rg_cgq1UAFAaRRPbB75sYHR4H5Bn2_uOxew-Q4q-ZKQ4LNIm2AvrO3zhhVCVzu5bko2n-8vcLszj_-NHq0-zxx6XpPo1bismlGUNr-oqytvwrcsLZGGtbRpQZbObo/s1600-h/slumdog+millionaire.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305853418274609570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLIiixyUqgmt2L17rg_cgq1UAFAaRRPbB75sYHR4H5Bn2_uOxew-Q4q-ZKQ4LNIm2AvrO3zhhVCVzu5bko2n-8vcLszj_-NHq0-zxx6XpPo1bismlGUNr-oqytvwrcsLZGGtbRpQZbObo/s400/slumdog+millionaire.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><strong>6:57AM – Istanbul/8:57PM – L.A. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br />That was terrible. Off to work.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>6:55AM – Istanbul/8:55PM – L.A. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br />Even the poop kid is there. And the Slumdog people don't want to leave the stage.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>6:52AM – Istanbul/8:52PM – L.A.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />A montage of best film nominees, interspersed with moments from best film winners of yesteryear.<br /><br />Steven Spielberg presents the best film Oscar to <em>Slumdog Millionaire</em>. Again, I am not going to wait for him to actually say it before posting.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>6:47AM – Istanbul/8:47PM – L.A. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br />Vito Corleone, Gandhi, Gordon Gecko, Hannibal Lecter and Jack Driscoll mirror the ladies from earlier, each saluting one of the nominees. How did they agree to this drivel?<br /><br />"I do know how hard I make it to appreciate me," says Sean Penn, who wins best actor for <em>Milk</em>. Mickey Rourke sends him a kiss from his pudgy lips. That's a big kiss.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>6:35AM – Istanbul/8:35PM – L.A.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />Kate Winslet is still talking.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>6:32AM – Istanbul/8:32PM – L.A. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br />Springtime for Winslet and Germany.<br /><strong></strong><br />A montage of best actress acceptance speeches of yesteryear, which I am sure was the same as the one from the top of the show. Shirley Maclaine, Marion Cotillard, Nicole Kidman, Halle Berry and Sophia Loren come on stage, and do the absolutely dreadful "singling out each nominee and singing their praises" bit. It was just the worst, worst idea, and I can't believe they thought it would work.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>6:21AM – Istanbul/8:21PM – L.A.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />Nope, there was a problem with the broadcast apparently.<br /><br />Anyway, Reese Witherspoon gets on the stage, does her schtick (incredibly unfunny), and starts reading the best director pablum from the autocue. Danny Boyle wins best director, and there's really no point of watching this any longer. I will, though. I wear the chain I forged in life.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>6:14AM – Istanbul/8:14PM – L.A.</strong><br /><br />Queen Latifah is miming during the death montage, or there’s no sound on the feed from L.A.<br /><br />I think this one might be a local problem as it's gone to commercial now. I have to go to work in just over an hour. Pity me.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>6:08AM – Istanbul/8:08PM – L.A.</strong><br /><br />Best Foreign Language Film is being presented by Liam “Yeah, I can’t believe how much Taken’s taken, either” Neeson and Freida “Homina, Homina” Pinto. The first genuine surprise of the night as Departures takes home the Oscar.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>6:02AM – Istanbul/8:02PM – L.A.<br /></strong><br />Jai Ho wins. Call me Nostradamus.<br /><br />Jai ho, Jai ho, it’s off to work we go. I’m terribly sorry.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>5:59AM – Istanbul/7:59PM – L.A.</strong><br /><strong><br /></strong>A movie without music is like an airplane without fuel, says Hugh Jackman, before a short medley of the Oscar nominated scores. The earlier glitches have given way to sheer dullness. Slumdog is about to win this. Yup.<br /><br />Jack Nicholson, by the way?<br /><br />Zac Efron, once again (for fuck’s sake), and Alicia Keys give A.R. Rahman his award, rolling their r’s ever so condescendingly.<br /><br />And the best song medley, which was the cause of the only controversy in this year’s ceremony. Can’t say I disagree with the producers’ decision to keep this short.<br /><br />Jai Ho wins this one. I am just going to go ahead and post before they even announce it.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>5:46AM – Istanbul/7:46PM – L.A.<br /></strong><br />Eddie Murphy presents the Jean Hersholt Award to Jerry Lewis. I’ve got that one right. The great nation of France is thankful to the Academy.<br /><br />A montage of Jerry Lewis films, and moments from his telethons, follow, initially set to Coldplay’s Viva La Vida, one of the truly hideous songs of last year.<br /><br />Jerry Lewis’s speech is short and classy.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>5:40AM – Istanbul/7:40PM – L.A.</strong><br /><br />Sitemeter Update: Enquiring minds want to know the name of the piece of music that played during the special effects montage. It was Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes. You’re welcome.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>5:35AM – Istanbul/7:35PM – L.A.<br /></strong><br />A montage of money shots (not that kind, alas) from various summer blockbusters, and Rambo, as it finishes with the single worst shot in <em>Iron Man</em>.<br /><br />Will Smith emerges from the floor to the Dark Knight theme (seriously, what world are these guys living in) to present the visual effects Oscar, which, understandably, goes to Benjamin Button. This was the one part of the film that kind of worked.<br /><br />Smith stays on the stage, unable to pronounce the word astounding, and gives the sound editing award to <em>The Dark Knight</em>. A quick shot of Christopher Nolan smiling. Hell has indeed frozen over.<br /><br />Fresh Prince just does not want to leave. <em>Slumdog Millionaire</em> wins the sound mixing Oscar.<br /><br />"Yes, they still have me here," quips Hancock just before Slumdog wins best editing. Sweepety sweep.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>5:19AM – Istanbul/7:19PM – L.A.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />Smile Pinki wins best documentary short. Start getting ready for tomorrow's headlines with lots and lots of Indian puns.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>5:15AM – Istanbul/7:15PM – L.A. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br />Heath Ledger does indeed win, and his mum, dad, and sister get on the stage to accept the award. Various shots of people looking solemn, with Adrian Brody especially teary-eyed. Sad moment.<br /><br />A documentary montage follows, which reminds me how much I love Werner Herzog. And speaking of documentaries, I saw <em>Man on Wire</em> yesterday - pants.<br /><br />Bill Maher is presenting best documentary - I think. There was a problem with the feed, but this was, for once, an issue at our end, I think. Anyway, <em>Man on Wire</em> is winning this, and look, it does.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>5:06AM – Istanbul/7:06PM – L.A.</strong><br /><br />Christopher Walken, Kevin Kline, Cuba Gooding Jr, Alan Arkin, and Joel Grey are presenting the best supporting actor award, which is going to Heath Ledger. This bizarre way of saying how great each actor was is embarrassing. For all of us.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>5:00AM – Istanbul/7:00PM – L.A.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />It's snowing in Istanbul. Thought you might want to know.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>4:58AM – Istanbul/6:58PM – L.A.<br /></strong><br />Hugh Jackman and Beyonce, both in top hats, are doing a musical medley. If you ever needed another reason to dislike Grease, then you should see this. Actually, better not.<br /><br />Hah – they sing a few bars from One Night Only, too. Let’s not pretend to care, indeed.<br /><br />Oh, god – Zac Efron, Vanessa Hudgens, Amanda Seyfried, and, you know, that guy, are also on the stage.<br /><br />This terrible bit was called “The Musical Is Back.” And it was choreographed by Baz Luhrman. Both Luhrman and the musical have seen better days.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>4:40AM – Istanbul/6:40PM – L.A.<br /></strong><br />The only seriously funny bit so far. Seth Rogen, James Franco and, this is just brilliant, Janusz Fricking Kaminski in a skit about all the comedies of the last year.<br /><br />The three also present best live action short, and it goes to <em>Spielzeugland</em>, which Franco can’t pronounce, much to Rogen’s giggling delight. The film’s director says he is going to have fun with a boldhead. Grossartig, mann.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>4:31AM – Istanbul/6:31PM – L.A.<br /></strong><br />Ben Stiller is ripping on Joaquin Phoenix, and his recent breakdown on Letterman. Stiller is out of shot for most of the bit, so we the reactions, but never actually see the bit. A lot of glitches this year.<br /><br />It is going to be a Slumdog sweep, as it wins cintog (Anthony Dod Mantle does, but you know what I mean). I thought Benjamin Button might win this one, because everyone seems to have loved its look. Whatever. You can’t polish a turd.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>4:24AM – Istanbul/6:24PM – L.A.<br /></strong><br />Amanda Seyfried and the Twilight guy have just presented a montage of the Oscars’ salute to the most emasculating moments of 2008.<br /><br />It’s not a good show. Not quite a train wreck, but there’s still tim. And time. <strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>4:24AM – Istanbul/6:24PM – L.A.</strong><br /><br />For fuck’s sake, they’re not done yet. Carrie Bradshaw and Sarah Jessica Parker are still on the stage, this time presenting best makeup. It goes to Greg Cannom for <em>Benjamin Button</em>.<strong> </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>4:20AM – Istanbul/6:20PM – L.A.<br /></strong><br />Oh, I get it – the theme for the night is the filmmaking process itself. Nothing gets past me.<br /><br />Sarah Jessica Parker and one of the aforementioned Space Chimps (who messed up reading the autocue) present the art direction award – it goes to <em>The Curious Case of Benjamin Button</em>.<br /><br />They're also presenting best costume design. Just before the camera cuts to them, there is, once again, a technical glitch and you can hear Craig checking with Parker if everything isn't alright, and her, rather abruptly, saying yes.<br /><br /><em>The Duchess</em> wins, by the way. Michael O'Connor's acceptance speech is very good.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>4:14AM – Istanbul/6:14PM – L.A.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />I've just checked <em>Sitemeter</em>, and a lot of people, and I mean A LOT of people, are googling "Open it, Steve."<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>4:10AM – Istanbul/6:10PM – L.A.<br /></strong><br />They’ll be doing a 2008 movie yearbook thingy this year apparently. A montage of a whole bunch of animated films including, inexplicably, <em>Space Chimps</em>.<br /><br />Jennifer Aniston (ooh, she is the same room as Brangelina, the controversy) and Jack Black present the best animated film award, and it goes to <em>Space Chimps</em>.<br /><br />And they're not done yet apparently - they still have to give out best animated short. Fuck - it doesn't go to Presto! La maison en petits cubes wins.<br /><br />DOMO ARIGATO MR ROBOTO! AWESOME!<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>4:03AM – Istanbul/6:03PM – L.A.</strong><br /><br />Simon Beaufoy wins the best adapted screenplay Oscar for <em>Slumdog Millionaire</em>. It’s going to be a Slumdog sweep tonight.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>3:58AM – Istanbul/5:58PM – L.A.<br /></strong><br />Tina Fey and Steve Martin are about to present the writing awards. And then they make a Scientology joke!<br /><br />Dustin Lance Black wins for <em>Milk</em>.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>3:50AM – Istanbul/5:50PM – L.A.</strong><br /><br />Penelope Cruz wins for Vicky Cristina Barthelona. It's not a good film, and Viola Davis should have won here, but I am happy for Cruz. She mirrors Javier Bardem from last year, and says something in Spanish. I think she just swore at Portugal.<br /><br />Just before, Eva Marie Saint, Whoopi Goldberg, Angelica Huston, Goldie Hawn, and Tilda Swinton each did a bit on the five actresses nominated for their supporting work. And I threw up a little bit inside my mouth.<br /><br />By the way, Philip Seymour Hoffman is looking like Norma Desmond tonight.<br /><br /><strong>3:42AM – Istanbul/5:42PM – L.A.</strong><br /><br />This is glorious – they’re messing up left, right and centre.<br /><br />Just before the supporting actress montage, there was a feed from the control room: “Steve, open it.” Referring to the stage curtains. Or Steve’s legs.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>3:39AM – Istanbul/5:39PM – L.A.</strong><br /><br />Standing ovation for the opening number. Seriously, you're all on crack.<br /><br />Funny joke about how nobody’s seen <em>The Reader</em>. Me included. I was supposed to see it today, but I went to bed at seven instead.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>3:36AM – Istanbul/5:36PM – L.A.</strong><br /><br />Cringe-worthy opening number.<br /><br />This is on a level with the infamous Rob Lowe/Follow The Hollywood Starts bit.<br /><br />There is something heart warming about Hugh Jackman’s singing it’s alright to be gay. If you believe the rumours, that is.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>3:32AM – Istanbul/5:32PM – L.A.<br /></strong><br />G’day mate.<br /><br />I’ll give them this – the stage looks great.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>3:27AM – Istanbul/5:27PM – L.A.</strong><br /><strong><br /></strong>Go Richard Jenkins!<br /><br />I hate to be noticing these things but Marisa Tomei and Anne Hathaway are both wearing white.<br /><br />By the way, the trailer for <em>Funny People</em> is out, and it looks great. I especially love the jokes at the doctor’s office.<br /><br />Anyway, get ready to hit snooze, cause it’s all about to kick off.<br /><br /><strong>3:15AM – Istanbul/5:15PM – L.A.<br /></strong>There seems to be a problem with the stream from the red carpet. The sound is acting up (fitting, if you think about it).<br /><br />Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens are doing their best to remind me why I dislike them so. The Achy Breaky Heart guy's daughter is here, too, so tonight is probably going to be a lot <em>tweenier</em> than usual. Spare me.<br /><br />Robert Downey Jr and Mickey Rourke always look very, very uncomfortable doing these interviews. Today is no different.<br /><br /><strong>3:10AM – Istanbul/5:10PM – L.A.<br /></strong><br />Oh, goody. Here we are again. Three o’clock my time. Every year I get excited for the Oscars, and every year I say to myself (I talk to myself fairly frequently) I should reconsider the wisdom of getting up at three in the morning on a Monday. Thing is, I am usually quite stoked, but this year the allure of my warm bed is particularly strong. It’s safe to say that bitching this year’s pack of movies is going to be a running theme tonight.</div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-12566620480859735732009-02-19T17:50:00.006+02:002009-02-19T20:10:36.800+02:00ANNOUNCEMENT: Oscarcast Live Blog + Final Oscar Predictions<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilHqM5c7qR2GKFk0uKskdhDD-Kiqe-ISdgYhQlpeVu3DEiQSeOV6QiLmWiOVKcGzLnSi9Q9swI9a75ysQdw0G1DCZta2XNGZMratVTWZiQ40VVAJUmhAE5Xw9HT8DpMjlvlDTxZwac57A/s1600-h/oscar+supporting.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304536927444311890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilHqM5c7qR2GKFk0uKskdhDD-Kiqe-ISdgYhQlpeVu3DEiQSeOV6QiLmWiOVKcGzLnSi9Q9swI9a75ysQdw0G1DCZta2XNGZMratVTWZiQ40VVAJUmhAE5Xw9HT8DpMjlvlDTxZwac57A/s400/oscar+supporting.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center"><em>Now this is a hard one.</em></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><br /><div align="justify">As has been my custom for the past two years, I will be live blogging the Oscars this Sunday. This is a big thing for me – the time difference between Istanbul and LA means I have to get up at half two in the morning (I might even get up at one this year, but don’t count on it), compose myself (not like that, you perverts), get into the right frame of my mind, and start blogging away. No mean feat, since I discard most of the posts or reviews I begin writing half-way through. </div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">This year’s ceremony is going to be an interesting one, in that it’s the first time in my life where I couldn’t care less about any of the flicks up for best picture. It’s not been a terrible movie year for me, but it’s most certainly not been a stand-out one, like last year so obviously was. The one word that immediately pops to mind is lacklustre. I am reminded of the immortal line from This Is Spinal Tap. Describing the band, and the roles played by Nigel Tufnel and David St. Hubbins within it, Derek Smalls expounds, “They're two distinct types of visionaries, it's like fire and ice, basically. I feel my role in the band is to be somewhere in the middle of that, kind of like lukewarm water.” That’s exactly what this year’s Oscar season feels like: tepid, pedestrian, and frustratingly uncontroversial. </div><div align="justify"><br />Anyway, here are my final Oscar predictions. See you on Sunday.</div><div align="justify"><br />Best Picture: Slumdog Millionaire<br /><br />Best Director: Gus Van Sant<br /><br />Best Actor: Mickey Rourke<br /><br />Best Actress: Kate Winslet<br /><br />Best Supporting Actor: Heath Ledger<br /><br />Best Supporting Actress: Viola Davis<br /><br />Best Original Screenplay: WALL-E<br /><br />Best Adapted Screenplay: Slumdog Millionaire<br /><br />Best Animated Film: WALL-E<br /><br />Best Foreign Language Film: Waltz With Bashir<br /><br />Best Animated Short: Presto<br /><br />Best Art Direction: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button<br /><br />Best Cinematography: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button<br /><br />Best Costume Design: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button<br /><br />Best Documentary: Man on Wire<br /><br />Best Documentary Short: The Final Inch<br /><br />Best Film Editing: The Dark Knight<br /><br />Best Live Action Short: Toyland<br /><br />Best Makeup: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button<br /><br />Best Score: Slumdog Millionaire<br /><br />Best Song: Down to Earth (WALL-E)<br /><br />Best Sound Editing: WALL-E<br /><br />Best Sound Mixing: WALL-E<br /><br />Best Visual Effects: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button<br /><br />And I predict Jerry Lewis will win the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award. Call it a hunch.</div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-1614628648405732742009-02-15T22:36:00.008+02:002009-02-16T17:48:46.068+02:00A Pinchbeck Parable<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIFDklNFCjRUQXFBisLvtjdkAadkfnNVcK0MqHPHWLM2FWeCMu1mQEVkPnyDVjbTqfzjYlB_g-i-KSoms-Cu8l5XwBmRhjDpE4F0g-M1FEInp3OIYB4eddObMDaofyKsLjVyCZNYEjcyA/s1600-h/benjamin+button.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303126481102679330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIFDklNFCjRUQXFBisLvtjdkAadkfnNVcK0MqHPHWLM2FWeCMu1mQEVkPnyDVjbTqfzjYlB_g-i-KSoms-Cu8l5XwBmRhjDpE4F0g-M1FEInp3OIYB4eddObMDaofyKsLjVyCZNYEjcyA/s400/benjamin+button.jpg" border="0" /></a> <em>Six more weeks of winter, I see...</em></div><br /><div align="justify"><em>The Curious Case of Benjamin Button</em> tells the story of a man who is born in his eighties and ages backward. Or that’s what everyone says it does, because it’s not quite true. Benjamin Button (Brad Pitt, as well as a whole bunch of zeroes and ones) is born, like most, if not – and I’m going out on a limb here – all men, a baby. He is ailed with the infirmities of old age, but he is not born an old man. He is an old fricking baby.</div><p align="justify">I realise that this is far too literalistic a take on what’s supposed to be a parable, but, Miss, David Fincher and Eric Roth made me do it. The respective director and writer of the film have fashioned from a satirical and sui generis Fitzgerald short story such trite Oscar bait of a picture that it’s hard not to let yourself wander the depths of reality. It’s always a bad sign when your film starts with the bizarre story of a blind watchmaker, and your audience’s mind turns immediately to Richard Dawkins.</p><p align="justify">Benjamin Button is born on the last day of the First World War in New Orleans. His father is disgusted by his outwardly appearance and abandons him in front of an old people’s home run by Queenie (Taraji P. Henson, in the only performance worth a damn), who summarily decides to raise him as her own. Considering his condition, a convalescent home is a good place for Benjamin to grow up, and it is there that he meets Daisy (Cate Blanchett), the love of his life, whose grandmother lives in the nursing home. The two have an on-again/off-again relationship as the audience has an on-again/off-again relationship with sweet, sweet slumber. </p><p align="justify">Imagine how the film could have been developed in a slightly more screen-palatable way, i.e. also doing away with Fitzgerald’s original conceit of Benjamin’s being a 6 foot geezer, while keeping the unique nature of the story. Benjamin is born an old baby, but with the intelligence and knowledge of an old man, something which becomes clearer to the rest of the world as he, for examples, says his first word: instead of “daa-daa” or “goo-goo,” the tyke recites William Blake. Then the villagers burn him at the stake. </p><p align="justify">But, no, Fincher and Roth don’t just want to have their cake and eat it, they also want us to pay for it, and then go out and get them some bloody lemonade – like, pronto! The film is supposed to be a dereistic allegory on mortality, star-crossed lovers, miscommunication, well, any Issue you can think of, but it is played so straight and so literally that it’s impossible to suspend disbelief. But allegories are supposed to have a moral – they are supposed to teach us a lesson. Good luck finding one here. You do get a lump in your throat quite often, only it's not a surge of emotions, it's lunch. </p><p align="justify">The film lacks the courage of its own convictions. It is also completely bereft of whimsy. We are never treated to how the young Benjamin felt being trapped in an old man’s body – a brief shot of his looking wistfully at a couple of kids skipping rope feels like an afterthought thrown in for no good reason. In a film nearing three hours, you’d think it might be an important part of the main character’s story, but not in this film. His first sexual encounter is with a prostitute, and he hammers away into the wee hours of the night: but hang on, isn’t he supposed to be a 70-year-old man at this point? Fincher squanders another opportunity here – rather than going for a cheap laugh, it would have been much wiser, and truer to the film itself, to have Benjamin unable to perform on that first night. His mind is ready – his body is not. Think of the trauma.</p><p align="justify">Similarly, the most interesting parts of Benjamin’s tale are skipped over. We never see how a sixty-year old Benjamin, with the body of a twenty year old Brad Pitt, fares in the world. Nor do we witness the decline of his mind as his body keeps getting younger. How did he deal with this most horrid irony? We never find out. Obviously, before he writes his next movie, Roth needs to re-read <em>Flowers for Algernon</em>. </p><p align="justify">And, boy, everyone has wacky stories - one guy tells of the seven times he was struck by lightning, one woman eulogises about her failed attempt at crossing the English channel, old Blanchett drones on and on about a clock maker – all of which is just drivel. This sort of "wacky side stories in the middle of the narrative that serve no fucking purpose except to show off the writer's sense of self-importance" might have played ten years ago (think <em>Magnolia</em> - an infinitely better movie) - but we are not that cynical anymore. And we’ve also realised how shit <em>American Beauty</em> really was. </p><p align="justify">Benjamin also gets a piece of the extraneous story action during an interminable ten minute ramble where he relates the story of the seemingly unconnected events that led to Daisy’s being run over by a Parisian taxi driver, leading her to quit her calling, modern dance. Apart from the fact that it is completely unfathomable to even imagine Benjamin could know about all the minutiae that apparently caused the car accident, it is one of the silliest, most meaningless, sequences in the history of cinema. It’s supposed to showcase how destiny has a funny way of sneaking up on you; but instead it just comes across as pleading. If she had not forgot her coat, if he had not stopped for coffee, if I had been there… Whatever, pal. If my aunt had bollocks, beggars would ride. </p>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-57335565446199127752009-02-11T18:51:00.003+02:002009-02-11T18:59:12.866+02:00From Touch of Evil to Dark City: A Grand Appreciation Of Film Noir<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLaMsr6NIhS2JSw5TnN5hUGr6bv_UMRj3tgtiOqcrAHuA4aCwPcF3A9kBIV6CvOKdU9_zWY5Jj-zTAvYnPAcDpbcGeJ2uYJ0j67s84Qf05a-DPdWtL8ZBvgP34dJ3p4gRE_rvtwYfdZZY/s1600-h/chinatown.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301585112112443170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 172px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLaMsr6NIhS2JSw5TnN5hUGr6bv_UMRj3tgtiOqcrAHuA4aCwPcF3A9kBIV6CvOKdU9_zWY5Jj-zTAvYnPAcDpbcGeJ2uYJ0j67s84Qf05a-DPdWtL8ZBvgP34dJ3p4gRE_rvtwYfdZZY/s400/chinatown.jpg" border="0" /></a>Kevin Olson’s <a href="http://kolson-kevinsblog.blogspot.com/">Hugo Stiglitz Makes Movies</a> is one of the blogosphere’s best kept secrets. It is insightful, witty and always a pleasure to read – one of my daily stops. Well, Kevin has just published a monster of a piece on film noir as an evolving genre, and it’s an utter joy. Here is an excerpt from <a href="http://kolson-kevinsblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/neo-cyber-and-postmodern-noir-look-at.html">Neo, Cyber, and Postmodern Noir: A Look at Film Noir as an Evolving Genre</a> :<em> <blockquote><em>Loneliness is at the heart of Roman Polanski’s Chinatown. At one point Detective J.J. Gittes (Jack Nicholson) is asked “Are you alone?” by a voice on the phone; “aren’t we all?” he replies. Chinatown is a film noir in the traditional sense (the nostalgic opening credit sequence reminds you of that fact) with its private eye, femme fatale, hidden truths, and shadow lands; however Polanski takes these classic noir tropes and plays with them. The shadows of alleyways and seedy locations have been replaced by stark, glossy 1940 Los Angeles business buildings -- seedlings for what would grow into the metropolis we recognize today. Polanski also removes the traditional femme fatale role from his film, as Evelyn Mulwray (Faye Dunaway) is the victim, not the seductive siren. Gittes is a private detective, but Polanski has some fun with this particular trope as he has his Tec’s nose sliced in half. Gittes even says at one point that he is a snoop, and what good is a snoop with only half a nose.</em></blockquote></em></div><div align="justify"><div align="justify">Now, head on over to <a href="http://kolson-kevinsblog.blogspot.com/">Hugo Stiglitz Makes Movies</a> to read the rest of this <a href="http://kolson-kevinsblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/neo-cyber-and-postmodern-noir-look-at.html">excellent essay</a>. </div></div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-19937267210764219262009-02-09T22:41:00.010+02:002009-02-09T22:59:08.312+02:00Please, please, let this be good<div align="justify"><br /><em><blockquote><div align="justify"><em>- Any chance I get, flatten Paul flipping Madeley.</em></div><div align="justify"><em>- Good lad.</em></div></blockquote></em></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Even though I disliked <em>Frost/Nixon</em>, that doesn’t change the fact that <em>The Queen</em> was my favourite film of 2006, or that I simply cannot wait for <em>The Special Relationship</em>. Peter Morgan is an excellent writer, with a paradoxically great ear for real-yet-affected dialogue, and a deft touch for seamlessly bringing together the mundane with the extraordinary to create wholly fulfilling works of art. Morgan’s next film, directed by Tom Hooper, is <em>The Damned United</em>, an adaptation of David Peace’s best-selling novel of the same name. Here is what Wikipedia says about the book:<br /></div><blockquote><p align="justify"><em>Told from Clough's point of view, the novel is written as his stream of consciousness as he tries and fails to impose his will on a team he inherited from his bitter rival, Don Revie, and whose players are still loyal to their old manager. Interspersed are flashbacks to his more successful days as manager of Derby County. Described by its author as "a fiction based on a fact," the novel mixes fiction, rumour and speculation with documented facts to depict Clough as a deeply flawed hero; foul mouthed, vengeful and beset with inner demons and alcoholism.</em></p></blockquote><div align="justify">The film stars the almost always reliable (cheap <em>Frost/Nixon</em> dig, I know) Michael Sheen as Clough, as well as Jim Broadbent, Colm Meaney, and Timothy Spall. You can’t judge a film by its trailer, but a trailer can get you excited for a film. I am very excited for <em>The Damned United</em>.<br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LYzsswqPk6s&hl=" width="480" height="295" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" fs="1" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-91139194358707549072009-02-06T22:20:00.014+02:002009-02-09T19:57:38.657+02:00Ramblings on Lost<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE316jPkhzR7TJDw2ZJt5aQ2FI4h0nz-hxUOUwDYZarU_S5QkRRtEG6jXJCUuc2wkHc39VwHCbC_sKXzwn6q7Y729dHKPLvPdNhOmAENbc2BP7Tfick40UA9B99XceXIgVNJjcyNsXQtE/s1600-h/lost.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299782403741022418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 263px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE316jPkhzR7TJDw2ZJt5aQ2FI4h0nz-hxUOUwDYZarU_S5QkRRtEG6jXJCUuc2wkHc39VwHCbC_sKXzwn6q7Y729dHKPLvPdNhOmAENbc2BP7Tfick40UA9B99XceXIgVNJjcyNsXQtE/s400/lost.jpg" border="0" /></a><em>"They elected a black guy?" </em></div><em><div align="justify"><br /></em>Having watched the first four episodes of <em>Lost</em>’s fifth season, here are a few random thoughts:<br /><br />- I think I might be the only person in the known universe to prefer episodes that deal primarily with the original castaways. That might have something to do with the exceptionally good actors, like Matthew Fox, Terry O’Quinn, and Josh Holloway – or, in the case of Kate-centric stories, with the fact that I am a sucker for a gorgeous face, and by golly, does Evangeline Lilly have one.</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">- Talking about Evangeline Lilly, was it me or did her Canadian accent sneak in during the scene in the hotel room where she tapped out Aaron’s ketchup. She can tap out my ketchup.</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">- I am still not exactly sure if I am happy with the way things are progressing. This time-travel schtick of a loose narrative with strands dangling in the air like Michael Bolton’s mane is all good and fine – and they seem to have an endgame in place, which will make the whole thing all the more rewarding eventually. But, still, the sense of a pervasive mystery has all but disappeared. Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse seem to be running the tightest of ships, especially when it comes to making sure everything has some sort of an explanation. In “The Little Prince,” the way they, and the writers, incorporated the batsignal from the hatch from the first season was a nice touch – especially the meta moment where the writers, vicariously through Locke, admitted that it was nothing but a cool gimmick to end the episode on at the time. Still, though, I get the sense that they are trying to explain too much. It’s as if Lindelof, Cuse and the writers realised they let way too much hanging in the second and third seasons, and now they are trying to literalise the fuck out of it. Some things should be left unexplained. What are the numbers? What’s the deal with the skeletons they found in the caves? What the hell was the black smoke? Oh, who gives a fuck! In the wise words of Mother Mary, let it be.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />- Has Sun all gone all Sun-ti-Mental or is it just me? Will she try to exact revenge on Jack and Kate, and, god forbid, maybe Aaron? The scene where she was left alone with the kid was terrifying – harkening back to the former days of the show where, once again I must mention this, the mystery creeped the fuck out of you (Oh, I must say Microsoft Word's spell-check is just dying to replace “creeped” with “creped.” Yet people, like moi, still use it – go figure).</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />- Michael Emerson’s run in Lost should be analysed by all bit-parters/guest-actors as to how an apparently short gig can be transformed into a full-time position. The guy was signed on for a few episodes, but he was so fricking good, that the story was written around him. And now, Emerson is simply doing sterling work, rocking the house every time he’s on screen. He has become one of the core characters. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />- Charlotte is Daniel’s daughter. Probably. If so…lame.</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">- Also rocking the house this season is Josh Holloway. He is simply brilliant. Just look at the aftermath of the scene where he witnesses Aaron’s birth – some of the best work he’s done on the show. I disagree that he was underused last season – he was merely unlucky in not being one of the six that got out. But, it just goes to show how great the initial casting was that you can leave one of your star players on the sidelines for an entire season, and yet, they bring in their A-game when it’s, once again, their moment. I’d like to think that it was Holloway’s sojourn to Turkey last summer to shoot an ice-cream commercial that brought out the best in him. I am nothing if not able to cite my country as inspiration for greatness.</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">- Jin’s comeback? How are they ever going to tie that in with the established mythology of the show? During the last four seasons, has Jin ever run into Rousseau? Has she ever recognised him? All questions waiting to be answered. Do I care? No, I do not. Still, it’s good to see Jin back.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />- And talking about those people who believe in plans and all that shit, it was obvious from the get go in the first season that Jin was going to – SUDDENLY – turn out to be an Anglophone (which is a long word for having a telephone bought in England). Just look at the reaction shots. Anyway, I am so glad they ended up diverting from that route. Jin has turned out to be one of the most interesting characters.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">- Wolverine Sayid of the past two seasons is a much better approach towards the character than the tortured torturer approach of the former seasons.</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">- This has nothing to do with <em>Lost</em>, but isn’t it funny how <em>Heroes</em> is so shit? It’s simply the worst show on network TV. When you find your audience preferring the delights of <i>According to Jim</i> to your show, you know you have messed up plenty somewhere (and it has some really likeable characters, and a few great actors, so what the heck’s going on).</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">- In the scene where Sawyer et al were being shot at by the other others in the other others’ canoo – am I right in thinking that the <i>other</i> others are the Oceanic Six making their way back?</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">- I still love this show, and think it even better than even <em>Mad Men</em>, which is my favourite show on TV right now. How is that for inverse illogic?</div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-54054437409067527752009-02-06T17:34:00.008+02:002009-02-06T22:06:59.386+02:00Eli's coming, hide your heart boy!<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfpegW3uULfsGiHwtLY1YAnbmsQhIl09x_q15Rd3UsWK-z5QYnWxFI_RIR6AbZxZI19r3bGTesbGQ0WOqb1d7qj9bB227EzzLRrIGk8zRAnikGvggDWDvgxeaLBSuWc7-MRi9hOtAh2M/s1600-h/let+the+right+one+in+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299709674156406818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 364px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfpegW3uULfsGiHwtLY1YAnbmsQhIl09x_q15Rd3UsWK-z5QYnWxFI_RIR6AbZxZI19r3bGTesbGQ0WOqb1d7qj9bB227EzzLRrIGk8zRAnikGvggDWDvgxeaLBSuWc7-MRi9hOtAh2M/s400/let+the+right+one+in+2.jpg" border="0" /></a>“<em>Die fehlende Liebe, das ist ein solcher Schmerz.</em>”<br /><br />In one of the best scenes in Werner Herzog’s excellent <em>Nosferatu The Vampyre</em>, Count Dracula (Klaus Kinski) slowly sneaks into the bedchamber of Isabelle Adjani’s Lucy Harker as she sits in front of a mirror combing through her hair. As the door creaks open ever so slowly, the camera’s point of view is the same as Lucy’s, looking into the mirror. Lucy feels a presence in the room, hears footsteps, sees an approaching shadow, yet she is too terrified to turn around, transfixed as she is by this otherworldly reflection (appropriately enough, this scene is a mirror homage of the one in the original Nosferatu). Suddenly, the Count appears next to Lucy, introduces himself, and Lucy confronts him for what he’d done to her husband Jonathan (by the end of the movie, he will have turned into one of the undead – I love that word). He won’t die, says the Count, before adding “It is more cruel not to be able to die.” Lucy is unimpressed, and declares the bond between her and Jonathan immortal. Dracula’s grief is all too real: “The absence of love is the most abject pain.”*<br /><br /><em>Let The Right One In</em> is of the same ilk as Werner Herzog’s film, as well as F.W. Murnau’s original 1922 adaptation of Dracula, <em>Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens</em>. It understands perfectly that the vampire mythology is one of intrinsic pathos and loneliness. Some have hailed it as transcending the vampire genre, they’re wrong: it doesn’t. On the contrary, it penetrates the very heart of what it would feel like being a vampire, consumed with madness and malice; sorrow and solitude.<br /><br />Directed by Tomas Alfredson, the film is written by John Ajvide Lindqvist, based on his own novel of the same name. Set in a snowy suburb of Stockholm, the film opens with the shot of a winter night – the left part of the frame is completely immersed in the shadows, and the right is slightly more illuminated, not so much by the light, as by a slow yet steady fall of snow. This is the world of Oskar (Kåre Hedebrant) – even when it isn’t totally dark, it’s still pretty grim. A 12-year-old boy on the edge of pubescence and self discovery, Oskar dreams of finally standing up the bullies at school who make his life a living misery (there is a subtle subtextual theme of school violence, which is bound to be amplified in the Hollywood version already in the works) by practicing with his switchblade against trees or standing in front of the mirror (Roger Ebert <a href="http://www.blogger.com/“http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20081111/REVIEWS/811129995”">notes</a> the prevalence of reflection, literal and metaphorical, within the movie). He has no friends at school; his parents are divorced: mum is inattentive, and dad just wants him to leave as soon as possible so he can jump his hirsute lover. One night, Oskar spots an older man called Hakan (Per Ragnar, brilliant) moving in next door, and is soon confronted on the jungle gym by a strange “girl” called Eli (Lina Leandersson), whom the man cares for (the nature of their relationship is not immediately clear, but more on that later). She looks and acts like a child, yet there is a strange detachment in her eyes, and a putrid stench that envelopes her. Oskar doesn’t take too long to realise that Eli is a vampire – they decide to “go steady,” but not before Oskar finds out that Eli is in fact a castrated boy.<br /><br />On the surface of it, this is a tale of a 12-year-old vampire making friends with a mortal boy. Even though moments of horror never take a back seat, nonetheless, it would be hard to describe the film as a vampire movie in the customary sense. Gone are the angst-ridden teens of Buffy, the hedonistic rock stars of the Anne Rice novels, the horny teens of <em>Twilight</em>, or the bloodsucking monsters of, well, all other vampire movies. Moments of traditional vampire lore are mentioned, others revised, and new ones introduced (in a hilarious scene where I was even more proud to call myself a cat lover). We find out exactly why a vampire cannot enter a home without invitation in one of the most effective uses of special effects of the past few years<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7iNy00kqOFWJ907kh3hPgkz3MaWp8H7azZ8P8DxD3kqnt2NoeGdQxDpmRz29Q9Wtu8YrsB1rumhCebE88TDZ5KBHjuxqTqm8AS2Gbp6Uj3HLWybWP8VSvcwR93q9edM9TOiJNBYZ23gQ/s1600-h/let+the+right+one+in+2.jpg"></a> (the special effects are sparse, but when they are used, they are seamless, and sort of glorious) .<br /><br />But the heart of the film is the relationship between Eli and Oskar. They are both victims of child abuse, in a manner of speaking, and they are both so incredibly lonely. The young Hedebrant does an extraordinary job of conveying Oskar’s frustration in the face of being unwanted, and Leandersson’s tragic take on being a vampire would give Kinski a run for his money. One of the most effective scenes involves Oskar’s sharing some candy with Eli, only for the vampire to get terribly sick and puke it all out. Blood is not just what she craves – it is the only thing that she <em>can</em> crave. Whereas most other vampire films and TV shows (which, frankly, bore me to tears) can’t even come close to selling the tragedy of the situation, in this one little moment Alfredson shows perfectly the hellish existence that plagues Eli.<br /><br />I must discuss the ending in order to put everything in context so please stop reading if you have yet to see the film. Now, the film ends with Oskar running away with Eli, as he taps little kisses to him from inside his coffin in Morse code, the two of them riding on a train to nowhere. Oskar will take care of Eli just like Hakan used to – eventually he will have to hunt for him, and eventually he will grow up. Was Hakan another childhood lover of Eli’s, consumed so much by his love when he grew up that he was unable to let go? It certainly feels that way when you consider an earlier scene in the film where Eli berates Hakan for coming home empty handed. Will Eli find another boy, or girl, to love? And how will Oskar cope? This was the best film of 2008.<br /><br />*The League of Gentlemen also made use of this line in their Christmas special.<br /><br />Here is the scene from Herzog’s <em>Nosferatu</em>:<br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/K1KO55JBuFE&hl=" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" fs="1"></embed></div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-90080776503609674832009-02-05T23:34:00.006+02:002009-02-06T12:11:33.083+02:00The Problem with Frost/Nixon<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINxdi9_wP1jIExKAxUv8MYNpbh_DEaDN1FJaLiq8NgsJ7nptwMEYNZi_c0Gvhzf8eqpyBOzqgPivBUXtfgZxFUz6rUm7FLJoMIa34NYfPLJmVB4Uwkg6ufnDBNqOyad3M0XqEISyiaFs/s1600-h/FrostNixon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299431190826233394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 325px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 324px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINxdi9_wP1jIExKAxUv8MYNpbh_DEaDN1FJaLiq8NgsJ7nptwMEYNZi_c0Gvhzf8eqpyBOzqgPivBUXtfgZxFUz6rUm7FLJoMIa34NYfPLJmVB4Uwkg6ufnDBNqOyad3M0XqEISyiaFs/s400/FrostNixon.jpg" border="0" /></a> "<em>Pull my finger.</em>"<br /><br /><div align="justify">If you ever find yourself searching for an instance of one single creative misfire derailing an entire enterprise, then look no further than the talking heads in <em>Frost/Nixon</em>. At first they are simply bizarre – they pop up like mushrooms at the beginning, the look of the scenes determinedly different from the rest of the movie: pale, over-lit, and detached. It’s an interesting directorial choice by Ron Howard, but a gimmick, nonetheless – a workmanlike way to differentiate what are supposed to be reflective testimonies from the men behind the scenes of the infamous Frost-Nixon television interviews of 1977 . Later, they serve to underline every single subtext of the film, and become annoying winks at the camera. I was reminded of the old He-Man cartoons, where Mekaneck would show up at the end of the episode to tell the audience the moral of the story: “This week, Richard Nixon lied to the people of Eternia that he had nothing to do with Stinkor or Kobra Khan. But truth always comes out. Good night, kids, and never talk to strangers.”</div><div align="justify"><br />But for the initial WTF interviews, <em>Frost/Nixon</em> sets the stage relatively well. When the film starts, it’s already been a few years since Richard Nixon (Frank Langella, in a wonderful performance) has resigned from the presidency in total shame, and the British satirist/journalist/alleged Peter Cook plagiarist David Frost (Michael Sheen – if only it were Charlie Sheen) is in his own outback wilderness, doing his best Roger Moore impression on Australian TV. Realising that an on-air interview of the disgraced former President would make for fascinating – not to mention lucrative – television, Frost decides to contact Nixon, and, since he is unable to get financing from any television network, eventually invest his own money in the whole thing. Finally, the interview’s on (the build-up seems to last forever), and both parties go into debate camp – think <em>Rocky IV</em> training montage sans Brigitte Nielsen.*</div><br /><div align="justify">By the time Frost and Nixon are facing off on camera, the whole interminable saga to get them there has been so fervid that we expect the same sort of intensity from the actual interviews themselves – which never comes. Nixon smacks Frost around until the last interview when he kinda, sorta admits wrongdoing but the moment never manages to pack that final punch to knock down not just Nixon but the audience, too. Yeah, he pussyfoots around an apology, and it’s pathetic in a way. But we are so used to disgraced politicians’ FUBAR moments on TV these days – I am writing this as Jay Leno roasts Rod “The Haircut” Blagojevich’s bizarre interview where he compares himself to Mother Theresa – that the film fails to recapture a moment that sent an entire generation of baby boomers grinning like a Cheshire cat.</div><div align="justify"><br />Apart from the annoying talking heads (during some of which the otherwise reliable Sam Rockwell is especially grating), Ron Howard and the writer Peter Morgan make a few other questionable choices. Nixon is portrayed as a bit of a perv, the supposed ying/yang relationship between him and Frost feels reaching, as does the vicarious pleasure Tricky Dick takes in Frost's urban haute bourgeois playboy lifestyle. There is also a pivotal scene where a drunk Nixon calls Frost in the middle of the night and voids his conscience over the phone – it’s obviously fictitious, and, yes, this is a film, and, thus, a fictionalised account of real events. But it’s so crucial to the way that final, fateful, confrontation plays out that its lack of authenticity drains Nixon’s pseudo-confession of all its oomph.</div><br /><div align="justify">Eventually, <em>Frost/Nixon</em> tries to juggle too many balls at once: redemption, salvation, repentance – all the while trying to be a solemn paean to the power of television in cutting through the bullshit. I liked it more when it was called <em>Good Night, and Good Luck</em>.</div><div align="justify"><br />*Nice, topical pop-culture references there, you hepcat, you.</div></div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-42219207862503714432009-02-04T18:20:00.007+02:002009-02-05T00:03:20.118+02:00He is the Dark Knight - He is professional<div align="justify">With a tip of the hat to my friend <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/09366621160453356504">Keith Uhlich</a> at <a href="http://www.thehousenextdooronline.com/">The House Next Door</a>, comes the next song in the Christian Bale saga.<br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7oFjz6JfACk&hl=" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" fs="1"></embed><br />Devin Faraci at <a href="http://chud.com/articles/">Chud</a> has written an <a href="http://chud.com/articles/articles/18020/1/THE-DEVIN039S-ADVOCATE-CHEER-UP-CHRISTIAN-BALE-PART-2/Page1.html">interesting piece on how Christian Bale can get out of this “Bale Out” mess</a>. He mentions that Bale should take the Tom Cruise route, and make fun of himself. While I generally agree, it should be noted that the place where Tom Cruise found himself after jumping the sofa/shouting at Matt Lauer/channelling Xenu came in the wake of a twenty or so year career as a bona fide movie star. As Devin says, Bale is not a star, and he can’t “open” a film, though his decision to shoulder reimaginings of, not one, but two fanboy-favourites seem to belie his <em>I-am-a-thespian-and-I-care-only-for-my-craft-general-moroseness</em>. I just don’t think it will be as easy for him to come out of this mess. Look at Cruise – he is nowhere near the star he used to be five years ago, and that’s after the kind of damage control reserved for high-ranking politicians, not star actors, from whom the public expects a certain amount of diva behaviour. Besides, Tom Cruise has a much more likeable persona (and is an infinitely more talented actor than Bale – until the latter proves otherwise by showing us he has the ability to smile).<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEPmfCSCa97bFepvYGGcYTDXXBLf-NbUuhGXFcQylB1oPTV8tFm1kiugHkL5Gdlu31hUKsJWPu6iXSaXJfYyKxYfHhwXXmI7b95sHO1Ubcu4g3jQmsiZvaKuahNhvN68hITHDZSkcyVQ/s1600-h/newsies.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299065811971198946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 259px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEPmfCSCa97bFepvYGGcYTDXXBLf-NbUuhGXFcQylB1oPTV8tFm1kiugHkL5Gdlu31hUKsJWPu6iXSaXJfYyKxYfHhwXXmI7b95sHO1Ubcu4g3jQmsiZvaKuahNhvN68hITHDZSkcyVQ/s400/newsies.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Anyway, the best thing for Christian Bale’s people to do right now is to get on the phone with the producers of this year’s Oscar broadcast, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/04/movies/awardsseason/04ciep.html">Bill Condon and Laurence Mark</a>, and get him a gig as a presenter at the Oscar ceremony. He could get up to present a minor award with Kevin James, who’d then “fuck up,” to which Bale would “react,” mimicking his Bale-out performance. It would be a YouTube moment, and it would show the world that the actor can laugh at himself. Lots of LOL’s and ROFLMAO’s. Everyone’s happy.<br /><br />You’re quite welcome, Christian.</div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-13093443764548116022009-02-04T18:27:00.008+02:002009-02-04T23:32:25.978+02:00Mon Oncle Oscar<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDKrqqnz9wSAsYjW6cL2uFWdwtPzZObT-Uk3ECggvBVlbnciM62q6RM9zQxJ-Lvb6HVgqSSwCBDZFfCygPjET8EuWTuw9L8GVhQg09rl1jlkJbngDTgicSJIu7ifyvHWgT56nJBjwotTk/s1600-h/2009+oscar+nominees.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298983020947275090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDKrqqnz9wSAsYjW6cL2uFWdwtPzZObT-Uk3ECggvBVlbnciM62q6RM9zQxJ-Lvb6HVgqSSwCBDZFfCygPjET8EuWTuw9L8GVhQg09rl1jlkJbngDTgicSJIu7ifyvHWgT56nJBjwotTk/s400/2009+oscar+nominees.jpg" border="0" /></a>Has there been a more lacklustre Oscar season in living memory? I certainly don’t recall one. This is not just the lethargy of a Hollywood that was crippled by an operose writers’ strike last year. The approaching storm of the writers’ strike affected many studios’ summer stock last year rather than their prestige pictures, and was also the reason why, for example, there was an X-Files sequel (and why we almost got a half-baked JLA movie). Coming as it does in the wake of an exceptional movie year in 2007, 2008 was always going to fell a bit lame. But there’s always an excuse (just ask Shane Hurlbut). </div><div align="justify"><br />Contrary to popular, and rather cynical, belief that films nominated for an Oscar are all nothing but tawdry Hollywood product, the Oscars can, and usually do, showcase some of the best American films of any given year. They usually evoke excitement, even if the previous year was less than stellar. Some years are magnificent all round – last year was one, as was 1999. But this year’s Oscar nominees all seem to be lacking that oomph factor, which incites enthusiasm in even your most blasé moviegoer. I have yet to see all of them, but that should be remedied by this weekend when The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and The Reader both open locally. I am not saying that this year’s best film nominees are bad – Frost/Nixon, Milk and Slumdog Millionaire are all flawed, to varying degrees, but one would be hard-pressed to call them all egregious (mind you, Jim Emerson over at <a href="http://blogs.suntimes.com/scanners">Scanners</a>, <a href="http://blogs.suntimes.com/scanners/2009/01/oscars_no_comment.html">makes a great case for the ultimate failure of <i>Slumdog</i></a>, a film he hilariously describes as “Charles Dickens, written in the style of Jackie Collins”). It’s just that, among the nominees, there is not one single film that fills me with unadulterated cinematic passion and joy (o-hoo tidings of passion and joy - passion and joy). Allow me a moment to reflect on the best film nominees of this decade so far before I do like Nostradamus and predict the winners weeks in advance (I'm awesome):<br /><br /><strong>2007<br /></strong>No Country for Old Men (winner)<br />Atonement<br />Juno<br />Michael Clayton<br />There Will Be Blood (piss off)<br /><br />A great list of films in a truly amazing year with only one bad apple among them, and even that one can be excused because it is so loud and so boisterous and so fricking quotable (not since the original Star Wars have so many pop-culture phrases emanated from one single movie). Juno was adorable, Michael Clayton was solid, Atonement was sad, and No Country for Old Men was, and is, the best film of the decade. Yes, I disliked There Will Be Blood, but at least it had a sort of feistiness and fervour going for it – an observation that cannot be extended towards this year’s bunch of anaemic nominees.<br /><br /><strong>2006<br /></strong>The Departed (winner)<br />Babel (Crash 2: Crash World)<br />Letters from Iwo Jima<br />Little Miss Sunshine<br />The Queen (Should have been the winner)<br /><br />Letters from Iwo Jima is one of the truly great Clint Eastwood films. The sheer brilliance of The Queen only grows with hindsight – that Michael Sheen was not even given a nod for his exceptional portrayal of Tony Blair must have been what compelled him to play David Frost as a clone of the former PM – at least, outside of the interview room. The Special Relationship, the final chapter in Peter Morgan’s unofficial Blair trilogy, is set for 2011, and will chronicle the close relationship between Blair and Bill Clinton between 1997 and 2000.<br /><br /><strong>2005</strong><br />Trash (winner)<br />Brokeback Mountain (Should have been the winner)<br />Capote<br />Good Night, and Good Luck<br />Munich (Should have been the winner)<br /><br />Another excellent choice of nominees with one piece of populist tripe masquerading as art. Shame it won. And that whole central thesis about how people are so numb and that they crash into each other just have some sort of humanly contact is just the sort of screenwriter’s tripe that passes for imagery. It’s like Wes Bentley’s “so much beauty in the world, just look at this floating dishcloth” monologue. Pretentious piffle.<br /><br />Both Munich and Brokeback Mountain are exceptional pieces of filmmaking, with their respective auteur at the top of his game, but if one must pick a winner, and then it would have to be Brokeback. That final shot is heartbreaking.<br /><br /><strong>2004</strong><br />Million Dollar Baby (winner)<br />The Aviator<br />Finding Neverland<br />Ray<br />Sideways (Should have won)<br /><br />Another year that was less than stellar, but all the films were solid, nonetheless. Sideways, in particular, is a masterpiece of sorts that stands the test of time – which I really didn’t think was possible. Finding Neverland has lost some of its power over time, but it’s Hollywood sentimentality done right. Nothing wrong with it as long as it’s done right – something Roger Ebert says about Will Smith’s underrated <a href="http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=">Seven Pounds</a>.<br /><br /><strong>2003<br /></strong>The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (winner)<br />Leaving Las Tokyo<br />Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World<br />Mystic River<br />Seabiscuit<br /><br />City of God was the best film of the year, with American Splendour, In America, and The Barbarian Invasions close behind though none was nominated – the last one did win best foreign film, mind. Of the five films above, Mystic River was a better film than Neverending Story Part III, but, you know, these things happen. Still, not a bad list – and quite an interesting one when you think that they just don’t make films like Master and Commander or Seabiscuit anymore. (The latter was a hit at the box office – good luck breaking 40 mil. Domestic with a film like that nowadays, let alone crossing the century mark)<br /><br /><strong>2002</strong><br />Chicago (winner)<br />Gangs of New York<br />The Hours<br />The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers<br />The Pianist (should have won)<br /><br />Once again – not a tremendous selection but it still contained a Scorsese dream project, and a Roman Polanski film! Enough to get any cineaste wet.<br /><br /><strong>2001</strong><br />A Beautiful Mind (winner)<br />Gosford Park (should have won)<br />In the Bedroom (or maybe this one should have won)<br />The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring<br />Moulin Rouge! (4 “bad-ass chicks” inc.)<br /><br />People bitch about how A Beautiful Mind stole the award from the first Rings flick, completely dismissing the magnificence of Gosford Park, which was clearly the best film of the year. I only watched it a few weeks ago – wonderful.<br /><br /><strong>2000<br /></strong>Gladiator (winner even though it’s bollocks)<br />Chocolat (chocolate bollocks)<br />Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon<br />Erin Brockovich<br />Traffic - USA Films (should have won)<br /><br />There are two types of people in this world: people who realise how shitty Gladiator is, and those who will one day see the light. There is a third group, who, after almost a decade, still quote the film’s terrible tagline (“what you do in life, echoes in my pants” or whatever it is), but the rest of us do our damn hardest to ignore them. Traffic was a stellar achievement, and it should have walked away with the award.<br /><br />Anyway, you see my point. This decade has seen a few wonky years, sure, but none has been so devoid of charm and passion as this year obviously is. Anyway, here is a list of all the Oscar nominees for 2009, as well as my my predictions - which are subject to change nearer the time of the actual ceremony. Come back on Oscar night for my <strong>Third Annual Academy Awards Ceremony Live Blog</strong>. I must capitalise it for it is <em>trés importante</em>.<br /><br /><strong>Performance by an actor in a leading role<br /></strong>Richard Jenkins in "The Visitor" (Overture Films)<br />Frank Langella in "Frost/Nixon" (Universal)<br />Sean Penn in "Milk" (Focus Features)<br />Brad Pitt in "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" (Paramount and Warner Bros.)<br />Mickey Rourke in "The Wrestler" (Fox Searchlight)<br /><br />Will win: Sean Penn<br />Should win: Richard Jenkins<br /><br /><strong>Performance by an actor in a supporting role<br /></strong>Josh Brolin in "Milk" (Focus Features)<br />Robert Downey Jr. in "Tropic Thunder" (DreamWorks, Distributed by DreamWorks/Paramount)<br />Philip Seymour Hoffman in "Doubt" (Miramax)<br />Heath Ledger in "The Dark Knight" (Warner Bros.)<br />Michael Shannon in "Revolutionary Road" (DreamWorks, Distributed by Paramount Vantage)<br /><br />Will win: Heath Ledger<br />Should win: Brad Pitt (Burn After reading)<br /><br /><strong>Performance by an actress in a leading role<br /></strong>Anne Hathaway in "Rachel Getting Married" (Sony Pictures Classics)<br />Angelina Jolie in "Changeling" (Universal)<br />Melissa Leo in "Frozen River" (Sony Pictures Classics)<br />Meryl Streep in "Doubt" (Miramax)<br />Kate Winslet in "The Reader" (The Weinstein Company)<br /><br />Will win: Kate Winslet<br />Should win: Anne Hathaway<br /><br /><strong>Performance by an actress in a supporting role</strong><br />Amy Adams in "Doubt" (Miramax)<br />Penélope Cruz in "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" (The Weinstein Company)<br />Viola Davis in "Doubt" (Miramax)<br />Taraji P. Henson in "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" (Paramount and Warner Bros.)<br />Marisa Tomei in "The Wrestler" (Fox Searchlight)<br /><br />Will win: Viola Davis<br />Should win: Marisa Tomei<br /><br /><strong>Best animated feature film of the year<br /></strong>"Bolt"<br />"Kung Fu Panda"<br />"WALL-E"<br /><br />Will win: Wall-E<br />Should win: Not Wall-E.<br /><br /><strong>Achievement in art direction<br /></strong>"Changeling" Art Direction: James J. Murakami - Set Decoration: Gary Fettis<br />"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" Art Direction: Donald Graham Burt - Set Decoration: Victor J. Zolfo<br />"The Dark Knight" Art Direction: Nathan Crowley - Set Decoration: Peter Lando<br />"The Duchess" Art Direction: Michael Carlin - Set Decoration: Rebecca Alleway<br />"Revolutionary Road" Art Direction: Kristi Zea - Set Decoration: Debra Schutt<br /><br />Will win: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button<br />Should win: Revolutionary Road<br /><br /><strong>Achievement in cinematography</strong><br />"Changeling" Tom Stern<br />"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" Claudio Miranda<br />"The Dark Knight" Wally Pfister<br />"The Reader" Chris Menges and Roger Deakins<br />"Slumdog Millionaire" Anthony Dod Mantle<br /><br />Will win: Chris Menges and Roger Deakins<br />Should win: Tom Stern (I might revise this later)<br /><br /><strong>Achievement in costume design<br /></strong>"Australia" Catherine Martin<br />"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" Jacqueline West<br />"The Duchess" Michael O'Connor<br />"Milk" Danny Glicker<br />"Revolutionary Road" Albert Wolsky<br /><br /><strong>Achievement in directing</strong><br />"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" David Fincher<br />"Frost/Nixon" Ron Howard<br />"Milk" Gus Van Sant<br />"The Reader" Stephen Daldry<br />"Slumdog Millionaire" Danny Boyle<br /><br />Will win: Oh, Danny Boyle.<br />Should win: Tomas Alfredson for Let The Right One In<br /><br /><strong>Best documentary feature</strong><br />"The Betrayal (Nerakhoon)" Ellen Kuras and Thavisouk Phrasavath<br />"Encounters at the End of the World" Werner Herzog and Henry Kaiser<br />"The Garden" Scott Hamilton Kennedy<br />"Man on Wire" (Magnolia Pictures) James Marsh and Simon Chinn<br />"Trouble the Water" (Zeitgeist Films) Tia Lessin and Carl Deal<br /><br />Will win: Man on Wire<br />Should win: Encounters at the End of the World<br /><br /><strong>Best documentary short subject<br /></strong>"The Conscience of Nhem En" Steven Okazaki<br />"The Final Inch" Irene Taylor Brodsky and Tom Grant<br />"Smile Pinki" Megan Mylan<br />"The Witness - From the Balcony of Room 306" Adam Pertofsky and Margaret Hyde<br /><br />Will win: No idea.<br />Should win: No idea.<br /><br /><strong>Achievement in film editing</strong><br />"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" Kirk Baxter and Angus Wall<br />"The Dark Knight" Lee Smith<br />"Frost/Nixon" Mike Hill and Dan Hanley<br />"Milk" Elliot Graham<br />"Slumdog Millionaire" (Chris Dickens<br /><br />Will win: The Dark Knight<br />Should win: Frost/Nixon<br /><br /><strong>Best foreign language film of the year</strong><br />"The Baader Meinhof Complex" - Germany<br />"The Class" - France<br />"Departures" - Japan<br />"Revanche" - Austria<br />"Waltz with Bashir" – Israel<br /><br />Will win: Waltz with Bashir (if it’s its night, if not then The Class)<br />Should win: The Edge of Heaven or Three Monkeys. (I am showing my true colours here…)<br /><br /><strong>Achievement in makeup</strong><br />"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" Greg Cannom<br />"The Dark Knight" John Caglione, Jr. and Conor O'Sullivan<br />"Hellboy II: The Golden Army" Mike Elizalde and Thom Floutz<br /><br />Will win: Benjamin Button<br />Should win: Probably Benjamin Button. Haven’t seen the flick yet, as I said, but from what I have seen, Cannom’s work is amazing.<br /><br /><strong>Original Score</strong><br />"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" Alexandre Desplat<br />"Defiance" James Newton Howard<br />"Milk" Danny Elfman<br />"Slumdog Millionaire" A.R. Rahman<br />"WALL-E" Thomas Newman<br /><br />Will win: Thomas Newman<br />Should win: Danny Elfman (with what may be his best work)<br /><br /><strong>Original song</strong><br />"Down to Earth" from "WALL-E" Music by Peter Gabriel and Thomas Newman Lyric by Peter Gabriel<br />"Jai Ho" from "Slumdog Millionaire" (Fox Searchlight) Music by A.R. Rahman Lyric by Gulzar<br />"O Saya" from "Slumdog Millionaire" (Fox Searchlight) Music and Lyric by A.R. Rahman and Maya Arulpragasam<br /><br />Will win: Thomas Newman and The Gabriel<br />Should win: Jason Segel for Dracula’s Lament<br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/X5ZtwbzUFZE&hl=" fs="1" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed><br /><br /><strong>Best animated short film</strong><br />"La Maison en Petits Cubes" Kunio Kato<br />"Lavatory - Lovestory" Konstantin Bronzit<br />"Oktapodi" Emud Mokhberi and Thierry Marchand<br />"Presto" Doug Sweetland<br />"This Way Up" Alan Smith and Adam Foulkes<br /><br />Will win: Presto<br />Should win: Presto<br /><br /><strong>Best live action short film</strong><br />"Auf der Strecke (On the Line)" Reto Caffi<br />"Manon on the Asphalt" Elizabeth Marre and Olivier Pont<br />"New Boy" Steph Green and Tamara Anghie<br />"The Pig" Tivi Magnusson and Dorte Høgh<br />"Spielzeugland (Toyland)" Jochen Alexander Freydank<br /><br />Again, not a clue (not my fault - shorts, the kind you watch, are incredibly hard to find in Istanbul). But <em>Auf der Strecke</em> is apparently an Academy of Media Arts Cologne Production so, just because I used to live there, I will be rooting for Caffi.<br /><br /><strong>Achievement in sound editing</strong><br />"The Dark Knight" Richard King<br />"Iron Man" Frank Eulner and Christopher Boyes<br />"Slumdog Millionaire" Tom Sayers<br />"WALL-E" Ben Burtt and Matthew Wood<br />"Wanted" Wylie Stateman<br /><br />Will win: Ben Burtt and Matthew Wood<br />Should win: Ben Burtt and Matthew Wood<br /><br /><br /><strong>Achievement in sound mixing</strong><br />"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" David Parker, Michael Semanick, Ren Klyce and Mark Weingarten<br />"The Dark Knight" Lora Hirschberg, Gary Rizzo and Ed Novick<br />"Slumdog Millionaire" Ian Tapp, Richard Pryke and Resul Pookutty<br />"WALL-E" Tom Myers, Michael Semanick and Ben Burtt<br />"Wanted" Chris Jenkins, Frank A. Montaño and Petr Forejt<br /><br />Will win: Tom Myers, Michael Semanick and Ben Burtt<br />Should win: Anything but, you know, that film, so I’d go for WALL-E.<br /><br /><strong>Achievement in visual effects</strong><br />"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" Eric Barba, Steve Preeg, Burt Dalton and Craig Barron<br />"The Dark Knight" Nick Davis, Chris Corbould, Tim Webber and Paul Franklin<br />"Iron Man" John Nelson, Ben Snow, Dan Sudick and Shane Mahan<br /><br />Will win: Button, if he’s lucky. Batman, if he is not.<br />Should win: The other one.<br /><br /><strong>Adapted screenplay</strong><br />"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" Screenplay by Eric Roth Screen story by Eric Roth and Robin Swicord<br />"Doubt" Written by John Patrick Shanley<br />"Frost/Nixon" Screenplay by Peter Morgan<br />"The Reader" Screenplay by David Hare<br />"Slumdog Millionaire" Screenplay by Simon Beaufoy<br /><br />Will win: Simon Beaufoy for Jackie Dickens.<br />Should win: John Ajvide Lindqvist for Let The Right One In.<br /><br /><strong>Original screenplay</strong><br />"Frozen River" Written by Courtney Hunt<br />"Happy-Go-Lucky" Written by Mike Leigh<br />"In Bruges" Written by Martin McDonagh<br />"Milk" Written by Dustin Lance Black<br />"WALL-E" Screenplay by Andrew Stanton, Jim Reardon Original story by Andrew Stanton, Pete Docter<br /><br />Will win: WALL-E or Milk (yeah, cheating, but what are you gonna do?)<br />Should win: Happy-Go-Lucky or In Bruges. (yeah, cheating, but what are you gonna do?)<br /><br /><strong>Best motion picture of the year<br /></strong>"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button"<br />"Frost/Nixon"<br />"Milk"<br />"The Reader"<br />"Slumdog Millionaire"<br /><br />Will win: Slumdog Millionaire<br />Should win: Let The Right One In. It was the best film of the year. By far. </div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-41875579391020040062009-02-03T17:32:00.008+02:002009-02-03T20:34:55.238+02:00Handbag!<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLtMDt5pSraC3qAcDaG3PnnnMoG04viT20fAts4b9WKIivott2w6R3DZUZoCCF6YfbHkili6wCXXMEh-xYRJBL3tim-dIl5xCh76duHWSSPxk3J5ruPhjyILyNtXCSEUGo7-nAJZmvza8/s1600-h/christian+bale.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298595219732927026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 392px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLtMDt5pSraC3qAcDaG3PnnnMoG04viT20fAts4b9WKIivott2w6R3DZUZoCCF6YfbHkili6wCXXMEh-xYRJBL3tim-dIl5xCh76duHWSSPxk3J5ruPhjyILyNtXCSEUGo7-nAJZmvza8/s400/christian+bale.jpg" border="0" /></a>“It’s my art. You are ruining my process!”<br /><br />Christian Bale doesn’t utter those particular words, but he might as well have. By now, <a href="http://www.aolcdn.com/tmz_audio/020209_christianbale.mp3">the recording of Christian Bale’s previously reported <em>nutsoooo</em> moment</a> on the set of the new Terminator film(titled Terminator 4: Seriously?) has made the rounds on the interwebs for a good day, and most have had a chance to listen to Bale’s juvenile hissy fit as he makes the case for having the worst reputation of any actor in the industry by, first, cursing, and then, at one point, seemingly trying to physically assault, the movie’s DP, Shane Hurlbut. (And what’s going on with his accent, by the way, as his vowels do the tango through America, Wales and The East End?)<br /><br />TMZ, <a href="http://www.tmz.com/2009/02/02/bale-went-ballistic/">which broke the original news and posted the recording</a>, fills in the details:<br /><br />“<em>It happened on the set after a director of photography accidentally ruined a scene by walking onto the set. Bale lost it, screaming, yelling and threatening to quit if the bosses didn't fire the dude. </em><br /><br /><em>Film execs sent the tape to the insurance company that insured the film in case Bale bailed.</em>”<br /><br />It should be noted that if you listen to the file, it doesn’t actually sound like Shane Hurlbut walked into the set, but, instead, like he didn’t realise the cameras were still rolling, and proceeded to do his job, unaware that he was in Bale’s eyeline.<br /><br />It is crucial, during a shoot, for an actor to be able to stay in the scene, and any distraction in their eye line, might rip them out of it. That’s funny because a sudden divertissement that destroys concentration is an ailment that is particular only to superstar actors. The rest of us mere mortals are such bastions of single-minded centralisation that we never, EVER, get distracted.<br /><br />And of course if we did, we, too, would do like Antonioni and BLOW UP!<br /><br />This is what I do not understand. A celebrity fit making the rounds is the kind of info nugget that usually invades my conscience but for a few minutes; however, reading some of the commentary (over at the <a href="http://chud.com/forum/showthread.php?p=2505195">Chud boards</a>, for example, or Nathaniel’s excellent blog <a href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8256060&postID=6960683255524792195">The Film Experience</a>), I have come across a group of people who are, bizarrely, apologising for Bale’s petulance. Their central thesis is that acting is his lifeline, that Bale is an intense performer, and that all is fair in the pursuit of his craft.<br /><br />These would all be valid were one able to transfer them to any other vocation save acting. You wouldn’t care that chopping meat was his only lifeline if you found yourself at the other end of a butcher’s spit-filled diatribe. You wouldn’t forgive an intense baker if he rocketed insults at you like a demented chimpanzee hurls its bowel movements. And you wouldn’t tolerate a candle-stick maker if he decided to use your most colloquial orifice as a snuffer.<br /><br />Another reason to defend Bale seems to be the apparent clumsiness of the DP. In the file, Bale bitches about how this is the second time that he has ventured into the great thespian’s eyeline, and, like I said, that is one of the big no-no’s that Hurlbut should know better to avoid. That’s still no excuse to act like Nathan Lane’s Albert from <em>The Birdcage</em> – not everything can always go according to plan. People make mistakes. We all make mistakes. In fact, one of the unintentionally hilarious moments in the tape comes halfway through when Bale yells how unprofessional this is. For once, he’s right.<br /><br />One of the crucial things when it comes to enjoying a piece of art is to dissociate one’s self from the artist, and enjoy the art itself. Your Christian Bales, your Ed Nortons, your David O. Russells make that very difficult indeed.<br /><br />“Oh, but he’s so stressed!” Join the club, bitch. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="center">=======</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">UPDATE: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WbEsynnvW14&eurl=http://www.slashfilm.com/2009/02/03/lol-more-leaked-audio-christian-bale-vs-the-craft-services-guy/&feature=player_embedded">/Film has just posted a very funny parody of the whole thing</a> courtesy of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/jedibff">jedibff</a>. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="center">=======</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">UPDATE 2: This is awesome beyond measure. Hattip to <a href="http://idiotsavantonline.blogspot.com/">John Lichman</a>, who helpfully points out that the track is from the producer of RuPaul's new album.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YTihsJQHt48&hl=" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" fs="1" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-70594334179753354072009-02-03T20:02:00.012+02:002009-02-03T20:29:38.940+02:00Ebony and Ivory<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtv4LMlb1guOHLTwsGk6jwXWLWVq3A1cwfKHfGP5bDl8DBh-Ae-d-vFGO-Q9LfCzP2_HGGsrXP5vZDSRp11ee8SCbhqc3Id4WTDZD-_9K0lUiUTOh_qYswzHToxDf6t-knK56hanURfUY/s1600-h/ebonyandivory.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298638026083731154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtv4LMlb1guOHLTwsGk6jwXWLWVq3A1cwfKHfGP5bDl8DBh-Ae-d-vFGO-Q9LfCzP2_HGGsrXP5vZDSRp11ee8SCbhqc3Id4WTDZD-_9K0lUiUTOh_qYswzHToxDf6t-knK56hanURfUY/s400/ebonyandivory.jpg" border="0" /></a>I bring you news today of the return of two particular blogosphere favourites from last year. <a href="http://www.lucidscreening.com/2009/02/the_3rd_annual_white_elephant.html">Benjamin Lim’s White Elephant Blog-a-thon</a> over at <a href="http://www.lucidscreening.com/">Lucid Screening</a> and <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/10926978706604468636">Odienator's</a> Second Annual <a href="http://bigmediavandal.blogspot.com/2008/03/black-history-mumf-recap.html">"Black History Mumf"</a> at <a href="http://bigmediavandal.blogspot.com/">Big Media Vandalism</a>.</div><div align="justify"><br />This will be the 3rd Annual White Elephant Film Blogathon over at Ben’s blog. The rules are simple: <em><br /></div><blockquote><p align="justify"><em>1) Submit the title of a movie that you want someone else to review (preferably something available via Netflix).</em><br /><em>2) Review the movie that you get assigned and post the review on April 1st.</em><br /><em>3) Have fun.</em> </em></p></blockquote><div align="justify">My assignment last year was <a href="http://cerebralmastication.blogspot.com/2008/04/jumping-jack-flash.html">Flash Gordon</a>, the 1980 camp classic that is more famous for its soundtrack than anything else (with the possible exception of Brian Blessed’s gregarious turn as Prince Vultan, King of the Hawkmen: “GORDON’S ALIVE!” Indeed, Brian).<br />And the film I submitted, which Ferdy over at <a href="http://ferdyonfilms.com/">Ferdy on Films, etc.</a> had to review was the seminal Whoopi Goldberg classic <a href="http://ferdyonfilms.com/2008/03/theodore-rex-1995-1.php">Theodore Rex</a>, the film that so neatly captures the existential drama lying at the core of a truly Bergmanesque story involving a sassy female cop and an anthropomorphic dinosaur.<br />I have submitted my film for this year (not telling), and can’t wait to get my assignment.<br /></div><div align="center"><br />***</div><div align="justify"><br />Odienator’s Black History Mumf series features some of the wittiest pieces of writing on the blogosphere. Last year, I was especially taken by Odie’s <a href="http://bigmediavandal.blogspot.com/2008/02/you-aint-never-met-martin-luther-king.html">review of a personal favourite</a>:<br /></div><blockquote><p align="justify"><em>The trio is standing outside a building on the Boulevard of Death in Queens, a building that, with the exception of an M made from arcs instead of arches, looks exactly like a McDonalds. It’s a hilarious sight gag for most people, but for Black folks it’s doubly hilarious. We’re used to knock-offs sprouting up in the ‘hood. On the corner of my brother’s block, for example, there’s a restaurant called Kantacky Fried Chicken. They sell a pail of chicken instead of a bucket. I bet in your ‘hood you can find a [fill in the blank with a place other than Kentucky] Fried Chicken. My cousin said she went someplace ghetto and they had Idaho Fried Chicken. “Their french fries were the shit,” she told me. I bet they were.</em><br /></p></blockquote><p align="justify">Anyway, this year’s Black History Mumf started on a different note than last year’s. <a href="http://bigmediavandal.blogspot.com/2009/01/better-be-good-black-history-mumf-is.html">But it’s still great</a>.</p><blockquote><p align="justify"><em>Whenever my mother would tell me that I could be President if I worked hard, I would look at her as if she’d lost her mind. In our school history books, the only time the pictures had a tan were when they depicted cotton picking slaves, Sitting Bull, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr., or George Hamilton. Every single president, from the wooden teeth of George Washington to the Log Cabin Republican called Lincoln, from the heft of William Howard Taft to the lustful heart of Jimmy Carter, from Tippicanoe and Tyler to the Forgetful Jones imitation who once had Bedtime for Bonzo—every single one of those pictures looked nothing like me. If you were a woman of any shade, they didn’t look like you, either. But one thing at a time.</em> </p></blockquote><div align="justify"><a href="http://bigmediavandal.blogspot.com/2008/03/black-history-mumf-recap.html">Click here to go to central links page at Big Media Vandalism. </a></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><p align="justify">Oh, and one last thing.<br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbUlsERplt1Swgetnrz4Cm3_m7P2xLnscKLkufCuRw0hER_CoPeBW5L-j7Poa4Fgd1PgcRJ6LEwWAO0TP9GDWp0nuCPN49CcTwozg16f51WX9-O5jDcyJGX900w5m-13DWs-_MlFMWEiA/s1600-h/coming+to+america.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298636754122943490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 217px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbUlsERplt1Swgetnrz4Cm3_m7P2xLnscKLkufCuRw0hER_CoPeBW5L-j7Poa4Fgd1PgcRJ6LEwWAO0TP9GDWp0nuCPN49CcTwozg16f51WX9-O5jDcyJGX900w5m-13DWs-_MlFMWEiA/s400/coming+to+america.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p align="center">"He beat Joe Louis’s ass!"</p>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-44711076417765973252009-02-02T21:43:00.003+02:002009-02-02T22:24:27.241+02:00Imagining Sisyphus Happy: A Groundhog Day Retrospective<div align="justify">For 16 years, <em>Groundhog Day</em> has been hailed as a meditation on self-redemption. But to pigeonhole it into one overarching theme would be an insult to the layered precision, and perfection, of Harold Ramis’s 1993 masterpiece, which ventures into the heart of darkness and despair to ultimately emerge unharmed, but not unmarked. This story of a man doomed to relive the same day over and over again is not concerned about tomorrow. A true absurdist triumph, it cares not what the destination might be, for it knows that the pursuit of meaning is itself meaningful whether or not that pursuit is eventually rewarded. Life might very well lack purpose, and it might very well be a struggle. But that doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole about it.</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><a href="http://www.thehousenextdooronline.com/2009/02/imagining-sisyphus-happy-groundhog-day.html"><span style="font-size:130%;">Click here to read the rest of the article at The House Next Door.</span></a></div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-47533871294407408462009-01-30T12:56:00.006+02:002009-01-30T13:16:42.480+02:00On yonder hill there stands a creature<p align="justify">You may or may not know that the recently departed poet/playwright/Nobel laureate Harold Pinter wrote a characteristically blunt poem before the Iraq war. It went like this:</p><blockquote><p align="justify">The big pricks are out.<br />They'll fuck everything in sight.<br />Watch your back.</p></blockquote><p align="justify">During a mail conversation just after Pinter died, a friend of mine fulminated in a Pinteresque rant himself:</p><blockquote><p align="justify"><em>I’ll miss him.<br /><br />When normal people get old and go batty, people ignore them and put them in a home and start spending their inheritance. If you've written 29 plays and are considered famous and one of the Hampstead "we're socialist, honest guv" set, then people continue to listen to you. Hence the "big pricks are out" etc, etc. Had any normal granddad written that, he'd be dispatched like a shot to some out of the way Colditz-on-the-Wold and we'd all be riffling around under his bed for the reddies. It reminds of a Jeeves and Wooster novel, where one of Bertie's uncles was discovered in the drawing room "sticking straws in his hair". Also, an Evelyn Waugh short story which has some old major "hanging by his braces in the orangery". I daresay there is some small window of wisdom that comes just after youthful ignorance, and just before losing your marbles but, generally: you get old, you go weird.<br /><br />Such is life.</em></p></blockquote><p align="justify">The person who came up with the above paragraph will soon be joining me in infrequently updating – or frequently not updating – the blog. He will be using a pseudonym. It is Hipparsus, which is marginally better than his original choice for a nom de plume, Benjamin Buttmunch. Hipparsus, by the way, was a student of Pythagoras who discovered the existence of irrational numbers (like Pi, or <em>The Dark Knight</em>’s domestic gross – SNAP). His name is more commonly spelled Hippasus, but Hipparsus is nothing if not unpredictable.<br /><br />There is a chance another person might also join us in a few weeks. There’s a party in my blog, and everyone’s invited. It’s a pity party.<br /><br />But back to that Pinter poem. In September 2004, <a href="http://www.private-eye.co.uk/">The Private Eye</a> did a send up of it in a section called “Harold Pinter’s Revised Book of English Verse.” And lucky you, dear reader, because you can find it below.<br /><br />One caveat: In order to get the joke, one really should be familiar with the original poems.<br /><br />Then again, one <em>really</em> should be familiar with the original poems <em>anyway</em>.<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7WXRq0CbP_oNx5iA0-z1McdM44APtD3RnWsEtItbilgU7NAbbBwlotSCKtSVWfd5qGj0elvyiU1YLq7z0LYu4yw4HupMlB3Q3FhLihf0onRIbhoRZTd0jKlDLS6-bw1oS8AtziwrX22o/s1600-h/diary2.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297041466787880418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 395px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7WXRq0CbP_oNx5iA0-z1McdM44APtD3RnWsEtItbilgU7NAbbBwlotSCKtSVWfd5qGj0elvyiU1YLq7z0LYu4yw4HupMlB3Q3FhLihf0onRIbhoRZTd0jKlDLS6-bw1oS8AtziwrX22o/s400/diary2.bmp" border="0" /></a>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-2150969767216341172009-01-12T12:26:00.005+02:002009-01-28T14:00:32.031+02:00Our survey says...Every year around Oscar time, Edward Copeland organises an Oscar survey. <a href="http://eddieonfilm.blogspot.com/2006/05/and-winners-are.html">The first one</a> in 2006 was on the best and worst movies to have won the best film Oscar. <a href="http://eddieonfilm.blogspot.com/2007/01/survey-results-part-2.html">2007’s survey</a> was on lead actresses, and <a href="http://eddieonfilm.blogspot.com/2005/12/best-actor-survey-index.html">last year’s</a> on lead actors.<br /><br />Due to personal reasons, Ed is unable to run this year’s survey, but he says that, hopefully, he will be back next year. In the meantime, <a href="http://theperformancereview.blogspot.com/">Brooke Cloudbuster at The Performance Review</a> has agreed to conduct this year’s survey, which will be on the best and worst supporting actress Oscar winners. The deadline is February 10th.<br /><br />Survey. I just wanted to say survey again. Survey. Survey. Survey.<br /><br /><a href="http://theperformancereview.blogspot.com/2009/01/best-supporting-actress-survey.html">Click here for this year’s survey.<br /></a>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-51653242983986215812009-01-15T12:11:00.005+02:002009-01-28T13:58:51.790+02:00Top Ten Tunes of 2008<div align="justify">My list of the best songs of 2008 is up at <a href="http://www.thehousenextdooronline.com/">The House Next Door</a>. Here's a teaser:<br /><br /><em>"I think it was Lester Bangs who said listening to Pink Floyd is like wrestling with shit. Him or Spiro Agnew. Whoever it was, they were right. It’s a band I tried to like for a long time—“everyone says they’re great, so they must be”—but I have finally come to the dawning realization that theirs is the type of music that should be confined to history—or the dorm rooms of frowzy, flatulent frat boys with too much money, too much time, and too much homegrown. From what I understand, the sempiternal Dark Side of the Moon is supposed to be a musical masterpiece, but I wouldn’t know, because try as I might, I have never been able to listen past “Money” lest I die of ennui. And, fine, I will be the first to admit that “Wish You Were Here” is a pretty good tune. But so was “I’ve got the key—I’ve got the secret.” I don’t see anyone waxing lyrical about the euphonious delights of Urban Cookie Collective."</em><br /><br /><a href="http://www.thehousenextdooronline.com/2009/01/im-no-school-boy-but-i-know-what-i-like.html"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Click here to read the rest of the article.</span></strong></a></div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-45383222457283792322009-01-06T20:38:00.005+02:002009-01-07T12:14:55.180+02:00"There's a nurse on duty if you don't feel right."<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhisBNsn41cSz7MAhQmNpH6c7R4RfwFZnQ6hSvIN0WtVRDm9TSt3_WfJIXSJCLVwJxUMJZ_-nSRHwP478pHfgdoHgNA2PnJ7L1OWVFEGnZpnI0z9NjK16lHtxDgLIu170i4F_jP8wfE4RM/s1600-h/mighty_wind.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288252976570778114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhisBNsn41cSz7MAhQmNpH6c7R4RfwFZnQ6hSvIN0WtVRDm9TSt3_WfJIXSJCLVwJxUMJZ_-nSRHwP478pHfgdoHgNA2PnJ7L1OWVFEGnZpnI0z9NjK16lHtxDgLIu170i4F_jP8wfE4RM/s400/mighty_wind.jpg" border="0" /></a>What’s your favourite bit from <em>This is Spinal Tap</em>? “This one goes to eleven” is wonderful, sure, and one of the few gags in the history of the cinema to retain its original brilliance, and oomph after nearly thirty years. Stonehenge is another one, not to mention Derek Smalls’s (Harry Shearer) comment during the post-gig group discussion – after the gigantic (or miniscule) fuck-up on stage – that they might want to restage the number the following night with different choreography. Or Smalls, again, but this time reacting to news that the record company is experimenting with the band’s new album cover: “They have monkeys opening it?”<br /><br />Sure enough, those are all sublime moments from one of the greatest films of all time. Yet, what I find most delightful are the slightly less zany moments, the emotional heart of the film itself – the relationship between the bandmates. Michael McKean’s Christopher St Hubbins and Smalls at a roof party marking the end of Tap’s ill-fated American tour, and possibly their careers, babbling on about their long-abandoned dream projects (“You’re a naughty one, saucy Jack”). Or the sheer frustruation tinged with a sense of sudden loss and deep sadness as St Hubbins declares that he and Nigel Tufnell (Christopher Guest) shan’t work together ever again. Then there’s the single, most tremendous moment in the entire film as Tufnell comes to visit the band backstage before one last gig, and, after a confrontational exchange with St Hubbins, asks him to do a great show.<br /><br />It is those little moments of character and emotion that resonate the most, and they have always been mainstays of Guest’s mockumentaries. Both <em>Waiting for Guffman</em> and <em>Best in Show</em> feature groups of people with questionable intellects, and Guest and his exceptional troupe of actors always approach the characters with sympathy and pathos, providing a genuine core of emotion to the enveloping farce. In <em>A Mighty Wind</em>, the pathos, for the first time in a Guest feature, takes centre stage, and it’s somewhat overwhelming. Roger Ebert, for example, wrote in his review, “(T)he key characters in "A Mighty Wind," especially (Eugene) Levy and (Catherine) O'Hara, take on a certain weight of complexity and realism that edges away from comedy and toward sincere soap opera.”<br /><br /><em>A Mighty Wind</em> is, indeed, a somewhat uneven film. The parts that make it up are rather splendid, but they fail to cohere – the naïveté of the performers and folk music as a whole are too nice a target, especially the way they’re refashioned in the film. Guest approaches the people, as well as the songs, with such genuine compassion and tenderness that, by the end of the film, the satire aspect has gone right out the window. But, seeing these incredibly talented actors, with an obvious love for the project, perform at the top of their game – not just acting, but also performing the songs, including a brilliant little ditty chronicling the chronicles of a wanderer, who never quite managed to wander – I was unable not to fall in love with it. It’s my favourite of all Christopher Guest films.<br /><br />The set-up owes a lot to <em>This is Spinal Tap</em>, <em>Waiting for Guffman</em> and <em>Best in Show</em>. The death of a folk music mogul inspires his son, Jonathan Steinbloom, underplayed to subtle perfection by Bob Balaban, to organise a memorial concert in his honour, bringing together three of the more successful bands of the oeuvre during its 1960’s heyday: The New Main Street Singers (featuring, among others, Jane Lynch and John Michael Higgins), reduced to performing their acoustic set under the pandemonium of a roller coaster with only one remaining member from the original line-up; The Folksmen (McKean, Guest and Shearer, together again), one-hit wonders, who partake in long and heavy discussions to conclude that their original look might now be considered retro, even though, in the sixties, it was nowtro; and Mitch and Mickey (Levy and O’Hara), former lovers scarred, not just by each other (and, in Mitch’s case, years of psychosis), but also their music. Pretty much everything one expects from such a set-up ends up happening, including temper tantrums, set-list problems, and one major issue with the floral arrangements in the lobby.<br /><br />The film is not a laugh-riot, that’s for sure. But there are some belly laughs, mostly provided by three veteran actors from Guest’s previous mockumentaries. In his one brief scene, the late great Paul Benedict probably provides the film’s best one-liner (improvised, of course); and Fred Willard and Ed Begley Jr together steal the show, the former as a truly bizarre showbiz agent, and the latter as a Swedish TV producer with a penchant for Yiddish. And some of the songs give “Big Bottom” a run for its money (pay special attention to the last line of the eponymous tune).<br /><br />Yet what we end up with doesn’t have anything further in common with Guest’s previous directorial efforts. There is an unsettling undercurrent to the leading couple from The New Main Street Singers, one of whom used to be in the, erm, adult movie industry, but is now a modern-day witch, with – this is genius – a cult based on the power of colour, and that aura of unease is always around them, but it doesn’t amount to much. The Folksmen are all too happy to be given a second chance, and one of them even undertakes a drastic change by the end of the film, one that mirrors a certain member of the real-life band Jethro Tull (I used to listen to them, and never heard the end of it from my friends at university). And Mitch and Mickey have such a sweet story, and such a beautiful song, that they leave no room for cynicism, or even true satire. That can only be a good thing. </div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-8717683436880112652008-12-26T19:09:00.009+02:002008-12-29T13:28:37.180+02:00Dennis Cozzalio's "PROFESSOR KINGSFIELD'S HAIR-RAISING, BAR-RAISING HOLIDAY MOVIE QUIZ"<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL3pYCAILRaULoaND-E7sRh5z2o-0-FPGyMN-vA-r0H925xs5GvP6B1xFj7ouApdrCXs6aaH1vnhh5iitzGfK33xVNMdDLrHMgGxSTaj_VERqf_8OEuR_7rMDK5vYb_XPqSQ-SswUUGSU/s1600-h/houseman.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284151462194967682" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 167px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 208px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL3pYCAILRaULoaND-E7sRh5z2o-0-FPGyMN-vA-r0H925xs5GvP6B1xFj7ouApdrCXs6aaH1vnhh5iitzGfK33xVNMdDLrHMgGxSTaj_VERqf_8OEuR_7rMDK5vYb_XPqSQ-SswUUGSU/s400/houseman.jpg" border="0" /></a>Dennis Cozzalio has posted his traditional Christmas quiz, and, once again, it's kinda extraordinary in its genius. Dennis has one of the best blogs on the interwebs, and, with this year's quiz, he has outdone himself. It is only in the classes of Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule University that you will be asked to choose between Ida Lupino and Mercedes McCambridge, but not before you create the main event card for the ultimate giant movie monster smackdown.<br /><br /><a href="http://sergioleoneifr.blogspot.com/2008/12/professor-kingsfields-hair-raising-bar.html">Clickity click for PROFESSOR KINGSFIELD'S HAIR-RAISING, BAR-RAISING HOLIDAY MOVIE QUIZ.</a><br /><br />Here are my answers:<br /><br /><br /><i>1) What was the last movie you saw theatrically? On DVD or Blu-ray?</i><br /><br />The last movie I saw at the cinema was <em>The Day The Earth Stood Still</em>. There is a scene at a McDonald's where Keanu Reeves meets with James Hong, also an alien pilgrim (SPOILER!), and the two start having an interplenary tête-à-tête in Mandarin. It’s supposed to be a pivotal scene, but all I could think of was <em>Wayne's World 2</em> where Mike Myers and James Hong also start conversing in Mandarin – the latter is played for laughs, the former gets them gratis. I half expected Keanu to take out a katana blade. Not <em>that</em> katana blade.<br /><br />I finally saw <em>Thank You For Smoking</em> on DVD last Sunday. It’s a very entertaining film, subtle yet powerful, and, at times, incredibly funny. Aaron Eckhart carries the film – without him, the film might, just might, have floundered a bit.<br /><br />Sod it. I cannot tell a lie. After <em>Thank You For Smoking</em> was over, I realised I had time for another film before I hit the sack. My choice? <em>The Wedding Date</em>, with Debra Messing (who is one of the most photogenic actresses of her generation), and, er, that guy.<br /><br />You know?<br /><br />Always wears a shirt?<br /><br />Him, yeah!<br /><br />I usually enjoy tripe, but this was tripe mixed with saccharine: an equally egregious combination as food and as metaphor.<br /><br /><i>2) Holiday movies— Do you like them naughty or nice? </i><br /><br />I like them nice. <em>It’s A Wonderful Life</em> is Capra’s best film. <em>Bell, Book and Candle</em>. <em>Die Hard</em>!<br /><br />And it’s not just Christmas, either. I just love holiday flicks. <em>Groundhog Day</em>! <em>Trains, Planes and Automobiles</em>!<br /><br />I even enjoy <em>Jingle All The Way</em>. What? WHAT?<br /><br />You didn’t ask, but here's my favourite sequence from an Arnie film:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8Z9Ismh1elM&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8Z9Ismh1elM&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><i>3) Ida Lupino or Mercedes McCambridge? </i><br /><br />Mercedes McCambridge. Her voice had amazing range, and was almost as distinctive as that of Orson Welles. Didn’t they have a thing?<br /><br /><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif5dIUucDE0PjN8-iS9cZZXA3ej1DHSRJpXWJJFFvWMvyfJAFHrAFb18gnzyi7PiAIjPIGCIttECVAIz2ryl7Hu5XyfSbnUKPEJwfwByWIxqm8154fvH4BvbLAPhKio_aOHndTbzLNacY/s1600-h/arnie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284152019680760114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 357px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif5dIUucDE0PjN8-iS9cZZXA3ej1DHSRJpXWJJFFvWMvyfJAFHrAFb18gnzyi7PiAIjPIGCIttECVAIz2ryl7Hu5XyfSbnUKPEJwfwByWIxqm8154fvH4BvbLAPhKio_aOHndTbzLNacY/s400/arnie.jpg" border="0" /></a>4) Favorite actor/character from Twin Peaks</i><br /><br />Michael Horse as Deputy Hawk. He was also in a great episode of <em>The X-Files</em>, too.<br /><br /><i>5) It’s been said that, rather than remaking beloved, respected films, Hollywood should concentrate more on righting the wrongs of the past and tinker more with films that didn’t work so well the first time. Pretending for a moment that movies are made in an economic vacuum, name a good candidate for a remake based on this criterion. </i><br /><br /><em>The Princess Bride.</em> <a href="http://www.blogger.com/“http://cerebralmastication.blogspot.com/2008/02/ripe-for-remake-princess-bride.html”">Here is why.</a><br /><br /><i>6) Favorite Spike Lee joint. </i><br /><br /><em>25th Hour</em>.<br /><br />It’s not the most obvious example of his oeuvre, but it’s one that has resonated with me the most over the years.<br /><br />A few months ago, almost a year ago actually, I saw <em>Jungle Fever</em> for the first time. There is a scene where the women sit around a living room, and talk about men, society, race – but mainly men. I read that the dialogue was mostly improvised, and it turns almost musical accompanied with Stevie Wonder’s dulcet score in the background. It’s one of the greatest scenes in cinema.<br /><br /><i>7) Lawrence Tierney or Scott Brady? </i><br /><br />Both.<br /><br />I love Tierney for a lot of things, but, mostly, for his work as Cyrus Redblock and Joe, er, the Gangster (I so wanted to type Plumber), in <em>Star Trek: TNG</em> and <em>Reservoir Dogs</em> respectively.<br /><br />And Scott Brady? Dude! <em>Gremlins</em>! Come on!<br /><br /><i>8) Are most movies too long? </i><br /><br />No, but most questionnaires are.<br /><br /><latka>Koodding.</latka><br /><br />Anyway, no. Only the bad ones outstay their welcome.<br /><br /><i>9) Favorite performance by an actor portraying a real-life politician. </i><br /><br />Micheal Sheen as Tony Blair in <em>The Deal</em> and <em>The Queen</em>. I am so fricking psyched for <em>The Special Relationship</em>. And, while we are on the subject of British politicians, I also like Ian McKellen’s John Profumo in <em>Scandal</em> (though it’s John Hurt who steals the show, overall, in that flick).<br /><br />Finally, I am also a fan of Martin Sheen’s prescient performance as Barack Obama in <em>The West Wing</em>.<br /><br /><i>10) Create the main event card for the ultimate giant movie monster smackdown. </i><br /><br />I have to go along with Rob Reiner here: Kramer vs Kramer vs Godzilla.<br /><br /><i>11) Jean Peters or Sheree North? </i><br /><br />Viva Josefa Zapata!<br /><br /><i>12) Why would you ever want or need to see a movie more than once? </i><br /><br />It’s most definitely not true what they say. You can’t have too much of a good thing.<br /><br />(If it were true, life would not exist)<br /><br /><i>13) Favorite road movie. </i><br /><br /><em>Planes, Trains and Automobiles</em>.<br /><br />Again, you didn’t ask, but, I’ll tell you. Favourite actor whose name starts with an <em>M</em> and ends with <em>icheal McKean</em>: Michael McKean.<br /><br /><i>14) Favorite Budd Boetticher picture. </i><br /><br /><em>Ride Lonesome</em>. In fact, that’s the only one of his pictures that I’ve ever seen, I think.<br /><br /><i>15) Who is the one person, living or dead, famous or unknown, who most informed or encouraged your appreciation of movies? </i><br /><br />My dad.<br /><br />Others: Roger Ebert, Jim Emerson, Matt Seitz, and Dennis Cozzalio.<br /><br /><i>16) Favorite opening credit sequence. (Please include YouTube link if possible.) </i><br /><br /><em>North By Northwest</em>.<br /><br /><i>17) Kenneth Tobey or John Agar? </i><br /><br />John Agar.<br /><br /><i>18) Jean-Luc Godard once suggested that the more popular the movie, the less likely it was that it was a good movie. Is he right or just cranky? Cite the best evidence one way or the other. </i><br /><br />He is being cranky. There’s a Robert Graves quote about Shakespeare: “Despite the fact that everyone says he's very good; he really is very good.”<br /><br />Though, this summer, most people were wrong. <em>The Dark Knight</em> is bollocks.<br /><br /><i>19) Favorite Jonathan Demme movie. </i><br /><br /><em>The Silence of the Lambs</em> (see above quote on Will).<br /><br /><i>20) Tatum O’Neal or Linda Blair? </i><br /><br />Both; at the same time, thanks.<br /><br /><i>21) Favorite use of irony in a movie. (This could be an idea, moment, scene, or an entire film.) </i><br /><br /><em>A Mighty Wind</em>. Harry Shearer’s character, Mark Shubb, has had a sex change and he’s talking about it to the camera, sitting next to his bandmates, Christopher Guest’s Alan Barrows and Micheal McKean’s Jerry Palter. He goes into a bizarre rant:<br /><br />“It was like a great big door opening for me... Town Hall... after that concert, I realized I wanted to spend as much of the rest of my life as possible playing folk music with these gentlemen and I wanted to spend all of it as a woman. I came to a realization that I was - and am - a blonde, female folk singer trapped in the body of a bald, male folk singer and I had to LET ME OUT or I WOULD DIE.”<br /><br />Jerry Palter breaks the uncomfortable silence: “When you put it that way, it's almost poetry.”<br /><br />Alan Burrows, after a beat: Almost.<br /><br /><i>22) Favorite Claude Chabrol film. </i><br /><br />Not a big fan of his work. I remember not disliking <em>Madame Bovary</em>.<br /><br /><i>23) The best movie of the year to which very little attention seems to have been paid. </i><br /><br /><em>The X-Files: I Want To Believe</em> and <em>Swing Vote</em> were both considered duds – critically, and financially. They’re both excellent.<br /><br />Also, <em>Forgetting Sarah Marshall</em> was as good, if not better, than the admittedly wonderful Pineapple Express.<br /><br /><i>24) Dennis Christopher or Robby Benson? </i><br /><br />Dennis Christopher.<br /><br /><i>25) Favorite movie about journalism. </i><br /><br /><em>Broadcast News</em>.<br /><br /><i>26) What’s the DVD commentary you’d most like to hear? Who would be on the audio track? </i><br /><br />Orson Welles doing live commentary on his film version of Arthur C Clarke’s <em>Childhood’s End</em>. While drunk.<br /><br />(There is a script of this project somewhere in LA – if you find it, send it over please)<br /><br /><i>27) Favorite movie directed by Clint Eastwood. </i><br /><br /><em>Unforgiven</em>.<br /><br /><i>28) Paul Dooley or Kurtwood Smith? </i><br /><br />Paul Dooley. Love him in <em>Curb</em>. Love him in <em>A Mighty Wind</em>. Love him in everything.<br /><br /><i>29) Your clairvoyant moment: Make a prediction about the Oscar season. </i><br /><br />It’s going to be wank.<br /><br /><i>30) Your hope for the movies in 2009. </i><br /><br />Awe.<br /><br /><i>31) What’s your top 10 of 2008? (If you have a blog and have your list posted, please feel free to leave a link to the post.) </i><br /><br />Not finished yet, since there is so many films that have yet to open here in Turkey.<br /><br /><i>BONUS QUESTION (to be answered after December 25):</i><br /><br /><i>32) What was your favorite movie-related Christmas gift that you received this year? </i><br /><br />A shot of Dolores Madeleine Haze, taken by Jim Emerson’s Blackberry, in his back porch. He calls it his <em>Let The Right One In</em> shot. It’s glorious.</div>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6143866771442228551.post-17895750811531324092008-02-08T15:16:00.003+02:002008-12-24T17:43:30.779+02:00In Defense of The Phantom Menace<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYttQkOWCPEloRjsV2E7jJsgDCPqKX8CuF_qs9sDLkTC340M-w-RKfI0C_xTwgyze93RXqWLatpFz7UoSug26CsLLChPyrk93RteyR4YtkQ1pLOXXge9kuaHVwK0Ow-nTwyXutYa_8HBI/s1600-h/star_wars_episode_one_the_phantom_menace_ver1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164601221631251826" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 322px" height="341" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYttQkOWCPEloRjsV2E7jJsgDCPqKX8CuF_qs9sDLkTC340M-w-RKfI0C_xTwgyze93RXqWLatpFz7UoSug26CsLLChPyrk93RteyR4YtkQ1pLOXXge9kuaHVwK0Ow-nTwyXutYa_8HBI/s400/star_wars_episode_one_the_phantom_menace_ver1.jpg" width="225" border="0" /></a> “<em>Obi Wan never told you what happened to your father.</em>”<br />Darth Vader – Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back<br /><br />“<em>Yippee!</em>”<br />Anakin Skywalker – Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace<br /><br />* * *<br /><br />And that right there is the single greatest problem most people have with Star Wars Episode I The Phantom Menace, if not the entire Prequel Trilogy.<a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1">[1]</a> The true identity of Anakin Skywalker, his descent into the - literal and metaphorical - hellish abyss of the dark side, and his eventual rebirth as the epitome of evil had been the greatest mysteries of the Original trilogy. Yet seeing this Magnificent Devil, this lusus naturae, reduced to an annoying brat was not only reason enough to undo the effects of that captivating enigma, but also managed, single handedly, to have a retroactive effect on the entire saga itself.<br /><br />In the wake of the film’s release, “George Lucas raped my childhood” became the rallying cry of overzealous, melodramatic fanboys and manboys of questionable wit. And it wasn’t just the nerds whom nostalgia, the subtle usurper of reason and good sense, had plagued. In fact, a certain portion of the film’s 400+ million USD box-office take could be attributed to the inherent human desire to stop and gape at a train wreck.<br /><br />Primal feelings of longing and schadenfreude aside, the film was far from perfect and audiences had good reason to dismiss it. Firstly, it went against all previous Star Wars lore which had, by then, permeated through the consciousness of even the most ambivalent filmgoer. Everything, from the film’s general tone to production design, seemed somehow different, and not for the better. The acting, already not the “saga’s” strong suit was more at home at a school play, and the characters were nauseating at best, and furor inducing at worst (I am referring, of course, to Jar Jar Binks). Perhaps most importantly, the plot had a literalness to it that was completely out of place with the arcane mysticism of the more memorable moments of the original trilogy.<br /><br />But, now that the prequel trilogy is over and almost a decade has gone by since TPM opened, is the film really the disaster that it’s perceived to be in the pop culture zeitgeist? Hardly (Come on – you knew it was coming). It towers over the other two prequels (both of which are wank), and a slew of summer blockbusters that have come before, or since. It has a tight narrative, some outstanding action, and presents a whole new universe while staying true to the Star Wars legend. It’s not only the best of the prequel trilogy, but also the most imaginative. In fact, most of those elements that jar (no pun intended) on the surface only contribute to the film’s overall quality. But even more crucially, if not essentially, the film is a lot of fun, and that is all one wants (or should want) from a Star Wars flick.<br /><br />It is almost impossible to remember a time before the prequels, or at least talk thereof. In fact, only a few months after the original flick turned out to be the behemoth it became, it was Lucas himself who started going on about them. Twelve films, he said, had been his original intention. By the time the twelve had inexplicably became nine, Lucas had perfected the spiel, the variations on which still form the backbone of everything Star Wars: that he had started with the middle trilogy since it was the one with the most amount of commercial appeal, and that the original story he had meticulously conceived of had been grander and far more intricate. This brief history of Star Wars time which I have just recounted, and which everyone and which everyone knows by heart, is actually horseshit. There exists absolutely no proof to suggest that particular course of events in the films’ development cycle – in fact, that account of the prequels’ conception is now so commonplace that no one dares question it. This revisionism is of the essence to all Star Wars films. And it must be clarified further before delving deeper into The Phantom Menace.<br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164602853718824338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzdMvKkJ29gHtb2Te_9CBCu10-tUzgoDvTxiI6oNfqfldp9sZL7DyVb7_N8TKo7slaRTgJ-BPdobOIFAZ8QKNxnHLJHNm7aQSIxRXcEh-Kkta1krwH3m_b4RQv0O-TDy2bp0oMLwaCOs/s400/swconmcq.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify">The earliest drafts of Star Wars are terrible beyond belief.<a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1">[2]</a> They read like a blind pick and mix session through the worst Flash Gordon serials, which is what the series evidently is anyway. An overabundance of characters, contrived plots, and wacky humour make up for a convoluted mess (sound familiar? We’ll get to that). There are no indications of a much bigger family saga.<br /><br />First of all, Darth Vader and Luke’s father, by the later drafts that bear at least a modicum of resemblance to the final film, are two very separate people. In fact, records show that Lucas came up with the idea of their being one and the same well into the development of Empire. From the first transcript of the story conferences between Lucas and Leigh Brackett, entitled “Chapter II: The Empire Strikes Back”, through to the two subsequent treatments written by Lucas, to the imaginatively titled first draft, “Star Wars Sequel,” Vader is most definitely not Luke’s father (in fact, even the concept of Ben’s force-ghost appears in the first draft – in all the previous treatments, Luke uses a talisman that used to belong to Ben to find out about Yoda).<br /><br />The notion of Vader’s being Luke’s father appears in the second draft. Lucas nowadays argues that that was the idea all-along, and that he kept it quiet. Through five separate treatments and a full first draft of the script? OK, from Leigh Brackett maybe, but from himself? Eh? That’s either bullshit, or batshit. Besides, it makes no sense whatsoever as, in the earlier treatments and the first draft, Luke contacts Ben during his training, and the latter brings along with him Luke’s father from the netherworld for an interplenary father and son tête-à-tête.<br /><br />Hell, the possibility of romance between Luke and Leia, already pretty icky, is full-on in the earlier drafts. And even though Yoda says, in ESB, that “there is another,” Irvin Kershner explains in the DVD commentary to Empire that it was a later addition to unsettle the audience with regards to Luke’s apparent invulnerability. It’s clear that Lucas never thought ahead to the third film, and this, too, i.e. Lucas’ aversion to coming up with an overall storyline (even though Star Wars lore argues otherwise), is the second important motif (along with revisionism) to consider later.<a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1">[3]</a><br /><br />Aside: My favourite discarded sub-plot comes from the earlier drafts of Jedi, where Vader and Moff Jerjerrod, the officer in charge of the second Death Star, go through this wonderfully homoerotic struggle, alternately vying for the attentions of The Emperor, or conspiring against him. Vader reads like the Jim Halpert to Jerjerrod’s Dwight Schrute. It’s glorious.<br /><br />It’s obvious that Lucas had an extremely vague general outlook for a whole bunch of Star Wars films. However this, in itself, is totally unreliable, and essentially meaningless, considering the gargantuan deviations from the original treatments that the final scripts for all Star Wars films display. The history of Star Wars was not written in stone by Lucas in 1973. Revisionism, inconsistency, and short-sightedness define the saga. In fact, it is not really accurate to think of the Star Wars films as a saga made up of two separate trilogies. Instead, they are a series of sequels to the original Star Wars. And that makes a huge difference to our understanding and appreciation of Star Wars as a whole.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhORY6TdW4Qvy8GoAXWEfWVURl1xlnqSJ9mdxIm_iUkzertPgKnX4IbHEzsh7BkVVuBWaVa2E_6Te8u6gpwBqWY__zaCgs35-QpbLtOVzdyVy3O0mKKUPRVabVecBJw-lFCZ2i7YRPq-KA/s1600-h/ani.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164601444969551234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhORY6TdW4Qvy8GoAXWEfWVURl1xlnqSJ9mdxIm_iUkzertPgKnX4IbHEzsh7BkVVuBWaVa2E_6Te8u6gpwBqWY__zaCgs35-QpbLtOVzdyVy3O0mKKUPRVabVecBJw-lFCZ2i7YRPq-KA/s400/ani.jpg" border="0" /></a>Before I get back to The Phantom Menace more specifically, I’d like to address the effects of nostalgia on the entire series. Well, one effect, really: it’s made everyone think the original trilogy was fucking great until the Ewoks showed up. Horses for courses, and I am a huge fan of the series (or why would I bother with this interminable diatribe in the first place), but all three original films leave a lot, LOT to be desired. They all have scenes that seem to go on forever: the trench-run in the first film, the Endor chase and the subsequent battle in Jedi, and, yes, the entire Dagobah sequence in Empire, fully devoid of verve, with its plodding pseudo-mysticism. There are many more shortcomings to all three films, and this is not the place to get into them. The fact remains, however, they are still, even with all their flaws, great films. It’s just that their apotheosis through nostalgia has resulted in an overestimation of their quality, which, in turn, has had an adverse effect on The Phantom Menace.<br /><br />Which is why a more pertinent question to ask while analyzing TPM is whether it was at all necessary. The short answer is an unequivocal no. The world wouldn’t have stopped spinning if it had remained clueless as to how Luke and Leia’s parents met. The global economy would not have imploded had we not gone through not one, not two, but three fucking laps of the podrace. And fanboys would not have stopped buying Slave Leia action figures if they hadn’t got to see a CG camel fart in Jar Jar’s face.<br /><br />“So where’s the defense part of this positively biblical philippic, you twat,” I hear you ask, only to add “and why are you using words like philippic?” Well, thanks, and having broken down Star Wars to its elements, and tackled nostalgia, I can now start waxing poetic about The Phantom Menace.<br /><br />Yes, I fucking love it. And most of the reasons why are exactly those that make people hate the film. Considered on its own terms, as a summer blockbuster sequel, it’s just about perfect. I love that there is absolutely NOTHING dark about the film whatsoever. Anakin leaves his mother behind, probably never to see her again, and yet two scenes later, he is all “bitch, I know how to fly a spaceship – I own lightspeed, and wacky maneuvering, and shit.” Jar Jar steps on crap twice, gets farted on twice, gets his mouth zapped only for his tongue to dangle like a flaccid phallus for five minutes afterwards, and manages to singlehandedly bring down an entire squadron of battle hardened droids by jumping on one’s chest. Supposedly one of the more dangerous planets of the outer rim territories, not to mention a hive of scum and villainy (I know, that’s Mos Eisley, but still), Tattoine feels like a beach that’s missing its ocean. It’s just fun. But before I get ahead of myself, let’s look at the plot, not forgetting to put it in the context of actual Star Wars history.<br /><br />It’s a bit of a lame way to start a space opera with a scroll about trade routes, taxation, blockades and peace keepers, sure. But that’s just the fricking starting point to kick-off the plot. It is the pregnant moment that gives birth to the story, and its coolness quotient is irrelevant. Nothing about taxation or trade routes is even mentioned after the first scene anyway, and I have no idea why, after a decade, people still go on about trade routes as if the first part of the film were spent listening in on a senate sub-committee hearing. The fact that the opening crawl is so heavy-handed is annoying, but it gets the job done: For some flimsy reason, the Trade Federation has besieged the planet Naboo, and the Chancellor has secretly dispatched two Jedi Knights, Master Qui-Gon and his bitch Obi Wan, to see what the hell is going on. This idea of “Jedi as peacemakers” is inspired. The Jedi’s religion does not overwhelm the Republic, and it’s established throughout the film that they are legendary figures who command respect. They’re kinda like the Maharishi with a katana blade. That they’re not soldiers, definitely not soldiers, is a nice touch.<br /><br />Anyway, the Jedi get aboard the Trade Federation’s command ship, in a meta moment that’s lost on most viewers, realize that something as shitty as a trade dispute is way too wank to go to all this trouble for, get attacked, kick some ass, and fly down to Naboo in order to save the Queen. It’s straight-forward, and the plot is kicked into motion within the first ten minutes: classical Hollywood storytelling at its most economical. In comparison, most summer blockbusters spend their entire first acts just establishing stuff. Even small plot points, such as the age-old animosity between the respective human and alien races of Naboo, are handled fairly gracefully – for a Star Wars film, at least.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKa8S3qxs6tBYPLf9UjId8_9d3Wts4az99ZWmBSmGnUzF9B9MBoX8b2iEROeC4G2zz0FZJARFn1m9njwbEUD1udn-v-gs3FFPXea7WIVlDs2Bp_0GeMPTvLNs9JLOnIXvbfc74xzQB-VI/s1600-h/jarjar.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164603467899147682" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 211px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 303px" height="354" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKa8S3qxs6tBYPLf9UjId8_9d3Wts4az99ZWmBSmGnUzF9B9MBoX8b2iEROeC4G2zz0FZJARFn1m9njwbEUD1udn-v-gs3FFPXea7WIVlDs2Bp_0GeMPTvLNs9JLOnIXvbfc74xzQB-VI/s400/jarjar.jpg" width="211" border="0" /></a><br />The way the story develops afterwards is radically different from the original three films, which all have one single plotline each that dominates them. Rather than a sub-plot, Lucas introduces a parallel plot once the Jedi and the Queen arrive in Tattooine to fix their ship. Very soon, Qui Gon realizes that he is unable to use his Jedi charms on Watto, a Jewish junkyard owner, who will only make do with hard cash (Aside: much has been made of the film’s racism by way of thinly veiled stereotypes, which is understandable. I don’t think the stereotypes betray prejudice on Lucas’s parts, but that he is obviously out of touch with the way of the world in general). It is at this time that they meet Anakin Skywalker, who, besmitten by Padme, offer shelter to her, Qui-Gon and Jar Jar from a sandstorm in his hovel.<br /><br />We meet Anakin’s mum, Shmi (which, incidentally, is the name of my cat), and find out that they are Watto’s slaves. In a sequence of expository scenes that seem to go on forever, we find out that they have podracing on Tatooine, it is a very dangerous sport, and Anakin is the only human who can do it. Discovering the bind his guests have found themselves in, Anakin offers to enter the next day’s race, with which Qui Gon et al could buy the spare parts they need. Shmi agrees, not too reluctantly, but Watto is not as easy to give in. Eventually, he and Qui Gon reach a deal: if Anakin wins the race, Qui Gon gets the spare parts he needs, and can take Anakin with him. If he loses, well, who bloody cares, it’s obvious he won’t.<br /><br />The Anakin storyline comes to the foreground during the Tattoine sequences. Characters’ motivations change, as does the focus of the film, which, in turn, starts to concentrate on the boy. It’s a novel approach for Star Wars – not all that successful as the urgency of the first act is never re-captured – and frames the Anakin story perfectly. Even though there are few throwaway scenes to Darth Sidious and Darth Maul (who have a meeting on a balcony across a city skyline, thus draining all mysticism out of the Sith), the middle part of the film is squarely about Anakin and who he is – strictly speaking, it never becomes a subplot. This narrative shift ensures the audience to get sucked into Anakin’s story. You start to wonder why the developments of the first act have now been jettisoned to concentrate on this annoying little shit.<br /><br />The answer is soon revealed: This kid might be <span id="google-navclient-highlight" style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #50ccc5">The Chosen One</span>, which, again, is an original concept for Star Wars - in the original trilogy, the saviour storyline could be described as subtextual at best.<a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1">[4]</a> “Overthrowing the Empire” does not dominate the characters’ particular “plights of fancy” in the original films, where the actions are governed by momentary twists of fate. In the new films, however, whether or not Anakin’s <span id="google-navclient-highlight" style="COLOR: white; BACKGROUND-COLOR: #50ccc5">The Chosen One</span> dangles over everyone’s heads like the Sword of Damocles. It gets tired soon in the second and third films, but, in The Phantom Menace, it has a kind of obscure mysticism that resembles Empire and Jedi.<br /><br />A few revelations help achieve this effect. Firstly, a Jedi prophecy is spelled out that a Chosen One will bring balance to the force, and this, in turn, goes to underline every single scene about Anakin, and most of the scenes with him (not just in this film, but the next two as well, as previously stated). In fact, one of the subtler plot points of the prequels is whether or not the Jedi misread the prophecy, and it’s a shame this avenue never gets fleshed out further. Qui Gon suspects that Anakin might well be this long foretold figure, and when he asks Shmi who Anakin’s father was, her reply both confirms his suspicions, and stuns him: “<em>There was no father. I carried him, I gave birth to him, I raised him. I can't explain what happened</em>.”<a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1">[5]</a></p><p align="justify"><br />Even though virgin birth is prevalent in world cultures (Lucas’s hero and mentor Joseph Campbell argues that Mithras, too, had a virgin birth, for example), the allusion to Christian Mythology is clear. Anakin is presented as Christ Figure, and the film’s amalgamation of the legends of Jesus and Lucifer into one is ironic. But for Luke’s Freudian emasculation in the hands of Vader at the end of the duel in Empire, this is the only other time where Lucas intentionally injects Star Wars with subtext.<br /><br />Even though Qui Gon is certain Anakin is <span id="google-navclient-highlight" style="COLOR: white; BACKGROUND-COLOR: #50ccc5">The Chosen One</span>, he performs on him a blood test, thus introducing one of the prequels’ most universally hated additions to Star wars lore: midi-chlorians. It turns out Anakin’s blood is full of them, and somehow the midichlorians determine one’s affinity to the force. It was felt that this literalism was anathema to the hitherto abstract nature of the force, but it just happens to be one of my favourite bits of the whole movie.<br /><br />I’ve always loved stories where the boundary between the scientific and the fantastic is obscured. I remember a Tales From The Crypt story I read when I was five, where an Egyptologist, Indiana Jonesing his way through a pyramid, figures out that the edifice is actually a space ship, and ends up meeting Anubis himself. “This is unbelievable,” gasps the scientist, to which the god of the underworld(actually an alien in the story) replies: “The Unbelievable is a science you are yet to master.” I am also reminded of Clarke’s Third Law, which states “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” You see my point: I love the fact that scientific knowledge in the Star Wars universe has reached such extremes that the line between technology and fantasy, or, if you like, spirituality, is almost nonexistent. In fact, midichlorians serve as a metatextual wink at the Star Wars movies, an amalgamation of science fiction and fantasy themselves.<a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1">[6]</a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUA6w1XgF3EszmCn27c-ly9jnxayIX24G4vzm0jdapOh-brA4g4olv4EllYLFjZ7LQ-SG24-DEOq7s6VIuIUNAcO1PGSlJMcqQ7h6gGYG9YfKJOuigS4F1d2nwXJ6qAjwIOzXPAewXp_s/s1600-h/meetobi.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164604412791952818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUA6w1XgF3EszmCn27c-ly9jnxayIX24G4vzm0jdapOh-brA4g4olv4EllYLFjZ7LQ-SG24-DEOq7s6VIuIUNAcO1PGSlJMcqQ7h6gGYG9YfKJOuigS4F1d2nwXJ6qAjwIOzXPAewXp_s/s400/meetobi.jpg" border="0" /></a>Getting back to the narrative, once the apparently interminable pod race is over, demonstrating, nay, bludgeoning the audience to death with how great a pilot Anakin is, he joins Qui Gon et al, and the party leaves for Coruscant, the Galactic Capital, to plead Naboo’s case with the Senate. The Coruscant sequence is relatively quick, and it manages to convey two important details. The Jedi don’t want to train Anakin because he has “too much fear in him,” and the Senate is unable to help the Naboo because the Trade Federation is a stronger presence in the congress than a little planet from the outer-rims (I am trying hard not to use words like “outer-rim” but sometimes it’s just not possible). During the consultations with the Jedi Council, Anakin sees in his mentor a defiance which makes an indelible impression in him that, combined with his own brashness, will lead him to later disregard all instructions to the contrary, and pilot a starfighter. On the other hand, the Nubian Party (Nubian is the official adjectival form of Naboo – I like a film with the audacity to impose its own grammar on the English language) realise that they will have to take up arms against their oppressors, but not before making their peace with Jar Jar’s people. These two turning points set the film on an inexorable course to its natural climax and conclusion. And even though the Coruscant sequence is the weakest one in the film, but it’s not unnecessary. Even at their most plodding, all the scenes in The Phantom Menace serve a purpose, and this is in no small part due to Lucas’s editorial talents as well as the film’s editor Ben Burtt’s.<a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1">[7]</a><br /><br />The final action set pieces are all excellent in their own way even though they’re fundamentally different from those in Star Wars and Empire. The Queen’s quest to recapture the throne room makes up for what it lacks in the suspense stakes with the opulent interiors, which were shot at the Caserta Palace in Italy (as opposed to the Caserta Palace in Idaho). In fact, the locations of The Phantom Menace display a magnificent balance of real world and CGI. In comparison, all the environments in the next two sequels have a synthetic, plastic, quality, owing much to crappy sets and an overabundance of CG (Matt Zoller Seitz makes a good point to the contrary in his contribution to the <a href="http://southdakotadark.blogspot.com/2008/02/deeply-superficial-blog-thon.html">Deeply Superficial Blog-a-thon</a> <a href="http://mattzollerseitz.blogspot.com/2008/02/5-for-day-silent-beauty.html">here</a>).<br /><br />As silly as it might be, the Gungan battle with the battle droids have a pleasant, sugary quaintness which, at its best, is reminiscent of the Agincourt Battle in Olivier’s Henry V. However, this sequence is a refrain of a darker motif introduced in Return of the Jedi with the Ewoks: primitive natives against a technologically advanced invading force. It was a Vietnam metaphor in Jedi, and watching TPM now, the Gungan battle has an ominous allusion to real-life. And even though the space battle is the weakest in the trilogy, there is a clear goal, and a far greater purpose that’s lacking in similar scenes in other summer blockbusters like Independence Day.<br /><br />All those sequences are but side-orders to the main dish. What distinguishes the action climax of The Phantom Menace is the final lightsabre duel. No. Let me correct that. The FUCKING lightsabre duel. It’s grand, it’s violent, it’s beautiful. Against John Williams’ masterly opus “Duel of the Fates,” with its bombastic horns, and bass vocals, the beautiful yet deadly dance of the combatants flows gracefully from one gigantic set to another. That the three swordsmen are silent only adds to the intensity of the scene. Pure and simple, it’s poetic.<br /><br />I do have my problems with the film, and for once in this protracted harangue, I shan’t use them as rhetorical devices. The relationship between Anakin and his mother is one. The two will never see each other again, yet Shmi sees her son off the way my mum used to on my way to a sleepover (if only she knew). Anakin wants to take her with them (and why Qui Gon does not pull a fast one on Watto anyway is beyond me), but Shmi doesn’t think so and her reply is priceless: “Son, my place is here.” As a slave? Freak.<br /><br />Then there is the acting. Sure, it’s worse than the original films, but even then I always find myself going along with it (unlike in the sequels). There is no defense for Natalie Portman and Jake Lloyd’s performances, but they were just kids, and I don’t understand how anyone can feel such hatred towards a fricking child. Yeah, they’re rubbish, but, what are you gonna do? And I actually like Liam Neeson’s wooden portrayal of Qui Gon, not to mention MacGregor’s Obi Wan as a humourless twit (his is the only character that shows any growth in the prequel films). My one great problem is with Ian McDiarmid, whose hammy performance grates not just in this movie, but in all the prequels.<br /><br />But the real problem stems from something I brought up earlier. There is way too much plot in this film. It’s definitely a tight picture, but even so, one feels like being bombarded with information overload. In that respect, it is very similar to the earliest drafts of Star Wars. Having been a life long fan of the franchise, I think the solution was simple: a final draft by someone other than Lucas. It would have kept the story the way Lucas intended, but also trimmed away all the unnecessary parts that read more like fan-fiction (that whole distinction between the “living force” and whatever is not the living force – who gives a crap?).<br /><br />The Phantom Menace is not a perfect film, and The Phantom Menace is not a perfect Star Wars film, either. But it is what it is. A glorious, child-friendly, summer blockbuster. It doesn’t deserve its terrible reputation, and it’s sure as hell better than many other blockbusters, including its two sequels. There is a lot beneath the surface if one wants to delve deeper. But that would defeat the film’s purpose. It’s there to be enjoyed with an open mind.<br /><br />So that it can fill it with wonders.<br /><br /></p><p>====<br /><a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1">[1]</a> I shall refer to all Star Wars films with their various colloquial titles.<br /><a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1">[2]</a> This piece uses Laurent Bouzereau’s excellent “Star Wars: The Annotated Screenplays” as reference.<br /><a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1">[</a><a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1">3]</a> Luke is a twin in early story conferences, too, but Leia is most definitely not his sister. Instead, she is a heretofore undisclosed character who is going through Jedi training in another part of the galaxy.<br /><a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1">[4]</a> I know, I know… Journal of the Whills. Son of the Suns. Whatever. All apocryphal, and all irrelevant. And if this footnote means nothing to you, consider yourself lucky, and good for you for having a well-balanced childhood.<br /><a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1">[5]</a> Most people hate this scene, but I find the matter-of-fact way Shmi talks about Anakin’s parthenogenesis is not incongruous with a universe where weird crap is an everyday occurrence. <a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1">[6]</a> This cross-pollination of the spiritual with the scientific is also prevalent in <em>The Subtle Knife</em>, the second book of Philip Pullman’s <em>His Dark Materials</em> Trilogy, to varying results.<br /><a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1">[</a><a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6143866771442228551#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1">7]</a> The Coruscant sequence has one excellent bit of – probably unintentional – foreshadowing. Frustrated with the Senate, Queen Amidala tells the future Emperor Palpatine “This is your arena, Senator.” In the final film, it is indeed in the vast senate chambers that the Emperor and Yoda have their (anti)climactic battle.<br /><br />[This is a contribution to the <a href="http://southdakotadark.blogspot.com/2008/02/deeply-superficial-blog-thon.html">Deeply Superficial Blog-a-thon</a> at <a href="http://southdakotadark.blogspot.com/">South Dakota Dark</a>.] </p>Ali Arikanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02293558856795196349noreply@blogger.com6