July the 4th is of course a very patriotic day for one nation in particular. Us Brits like to moan about the Yanks now and again because perhaps old rivalries never quite die no matter how close the friendship. We have an even fonder tendency to exchange banter with our French friends across the channel. On Independence Day the story of one of their most fascinating monarchs arrives on DVD.
Henry of Navarre (aka Henri 4) has all the ingredients of an epic historical romp. Its visceral battle scenes, complete with frenetic handheld camerawork as well as sweeping shots, have been likened to Ridley Scott’s iconic set pieces by Variety. Its period details are meticulous and vivid, from costume to setting. Its themes of religious freedom, love and power are at once more inspiring than modern day concerns and still relevant. And of course, as addictive TV dramas such as The Tudors and Rome have proved, no story of royalty and betrayal is complete these days without plenty of nudity and animalistic sex.
Henri, played by Julien Boisselier, is a charmer from childhood. The film begins with the prince of Navarre, a small region of France, paying the girls as a mere boy for a glimpse up their skirts. He goes on to seduce, overpower and caress several other women throughout the course of the film. The first set of bedroom scenes, with a Catholic he is told to marry to secure peace, verge on the violent, fuelled by religious resentment and suspicion. They scratch and bite like tigers just released from a zoo. Henry of Navarre is not a film short on beautiful women or erotic encounters.
But Henri is still likeable despite his cavorting, which prompts his second wife to describe him as a “horny old goat”. Boisselier plays him as a man disillusioned by the role and world he was born into but determined to change things pragmatically. The film begins with Henri leading the Protestant Huguenots against the greater part of France controlled by the Catholic Medici family. Henri is encouraged into a peacemaking marriage in Paris and during this part of the film within the city walls and the Louvre palace, overwhelming tension and intrigue builds, with relationships in the court difficult to decipher. Henri is well meaning but naive and the betrayal eventually comes with the tragedy of the St. Bartholomew’s Massacre.
At this point it’s hard to understand why Henri doesn’t flee but eventually he wins the trust of the traitors and escapes successfully. He returns to his roots in Navarre and builds up the strength of his home. By the end of the film Henri is King of all of France, with the price being his religious belief and identity. But despite his growing wisdom, Henri’s childhood innocence and kindness is also preserved by Boisselier’s performance. This is a very modern film because Henri puts aside labels of religion and ancestry to cherish things that really matter in life and leadership; loyalty, friendship, love and freedom.
Henry of Navarre has its faults. It could do with being half an hour shorter but the two and a half hour runtime is more than filled with the substance of Henri’s fascinating life. Not all of the acting is assured, with Ulrich Noethen’s performance as Charles IX too over the top and caricatured regardless of the troubled nature of the monarch. The battle scenes, despite their initial impact, become repetitive. You are carried through it all though by the compelling complexity and emotion of Henri’s story and the appeal of his character. This would appear to be a diverse film faithful to history that both entertains and educates.
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Tagged 4, 4th of July, allies, America, Andreas, banter, battle, Blu-Ray, Boisselier, Britain, Brits, Catholic, cinema, competition, day, DVD, enemies, epic, film, Flickering, foes, fourth, France, Freedom, french, friendship, fuck, Gladiator, Henri, Henry, historical, Independence, jibe, Joachim, Julien, Krol, love, myth, narrative, nationality, Navarre, nudity, of, patriotism, pride, Protestant, religious, Review, Ridley, rivals, Rome, romp, scenes, Schmidt, Scott, sex, story, The Tudors, themes, USA, Variety, wild, win, yank
After things really seemed to be getting somewhere with episodes 2 and 3, last night (the first time I have watched The Shadow Line as scheduled, 9pm BBC 2) things once again became a blend of baffling plot lines and bad dialogue, punctuated by the odd superb scene. This is one of those programmes so determined to keep us guessing that no sooner are we given a clutch of answers, a bucket full of more questions is splashed into our bemused faces.
The answers come in the form of customs officer Robert Beatty, who was the guy sultry sidekick Honey had a fight with last time. He’s one of these deep cover types working beyond the police, doing things they can’t like he doesn’t give a shit. It turns out that the drugs murdered Harvey Wratten used to get his rare Royal Pardon were already his. Beatty also reveals there was a second requirement for the Pardon; saving the life of a cop. In this case information was given to save him and his family from a car bomb. But it quickly emerges that the bomb was probably planted by Wratten too. So Wratten arranged a get out of jail free card for himself. Well mostly free, just minus millions of pounds worth of drugs.
Obviously Gabriel thinks this is getting somewhere with the case, that he’s been given three extra weeks to save. But it’s difficult to say where this breakthrough leads or what it means and his boss has a problem with that. Even though they’ve got a blurry picture of Gatehouse on CCTV too AND they’ve linked him to a big drug deal, where Gatehouse appeared to be acting on behalf of the vanished but ever present Glickman, who was in turn acting for Wratten because he was banged up. Confused much?
And that’s just the professional side of the police case. We haven’t even mentioned Gabriel’s personal problems. He didn’t have any agonising moments staring at that inexplicable briefcase full of cash this week but the mother of his secret child told him to tell his wife of their existence, who is finally pregnant. This is the cue for just one of many terrible lines in this episode. Gabriel, clearly in a sticky situation, blankly says “I’m in hell” only for the mother of his child to hit back with “No, we’re in limbo”. She then says she won’t have her son growing up in the shadows, which is far too forced a reference to the show’s title.
On the criminal side of the case, Bob Harris is sweating his hairy backside off because one of his supply lines has been compromised by customs, which is how the police know about Glickman getting the drugs for Wratten. How do I know he has a hairy backside you ask? I don’t for sure but I’m judging by the rest of his portly, sagging, ageing body. We’re treated to a scene with Harris and a gay lover, with Harris sporting a pair of very tight pants and awkwardly resting on his side like a beached whale, and the lover wearing nothing at all. He is sprung from a police station by an anonymous benefactor at the beginning of the episode and ever since has been stuck in camp seductive mode. He also gets some terrible lines and provides Harris with the information that apparently Jay Wratten is responsible for the busting of his line.
Jay of course, has been told by Andy Dixon the driver, that Harris killed Harvey. So he has a reason to piss him off. But Christopher Eccleston’s Joseph Bede interrogates Jay and he insists he didn’t do anything. We see very little of Bede this week, apart from when he’s questioning Jay and Glickman’s girlfriend, but Jay does get to pay another over the top, intimidating visit to Glickman’s son. And this is where we see the mysterious, deadly Gatehouse again.
Perched atop a mountain of office furniture, Gatehouse is across the street from Glickman’s son with some very fancy tech for listening to phone conversations etc. Eventually he decides to pop round to the home of Glickman’s son and play the kindly old fashioned gentleman card. Glickman’s sceptical daughter-in-law is won over by his harmless demeanour and Gatehouse gains access to the downstairs loo. After opening and closing the window briefly, he lets himself out. After calling her husband about the visitor, the wife goes upstairs to check on the wailing baby, prompted by the baby monitor. Their little girl is not there.
I was glad when Gatehouse showed up eventually last night because the rest of the episode had been poor. With Gatehouse though you know things are going to be suspenseful and tense and that something is going to happen, even without him doing very much. Here he’d magically whisked the baby outside, simply by opening and shutting a window in the toilet. Surely he must have had help? After dashing about the house absolutely distraught, she finds her baby and then Gatehouse, who chillingly tells her to call her husband “NOW” via the baby monitor. Glickman is then told Gatehouse wants to hear from him.
This episode has time for one more confusing but majestic scene. The journalist, otherwise known as that bloke from Casino Royale, who has been investigating police corruption throughout the series, features strongly in this episode asking people questions without really getting anywhere. Then he’s given the job of city editor at his paper, along with a far from feasible pay rise. Prior to this Gatehouse calls him up for an anonymous meeting but does nothing; not even speaking to him. Instead he gets hold of his home address pretending to be a deliveryman. Then comes the outstanding scene.
McGovern (name of said journalist) rides out of the city in his leathers and into the countryside towards home and his wife, where he can tell her the good news of his promotion. The tension slowly builds as it’s evident something will happen. Then we see a car in the distance on a straight road, with McGovern heading towards it. Both vehicles, bike and automobile, disappear into a dip in the middle of the road. We hear a screech and only the car emerges on the other side. The episode ends with a close up of our fallen journalist, in the middle of a sun drenched road, blood dripping in vivid drops from his helmet against a background of bright blue sky.
Scenes like that are the reason I continue to watch The Shadow Line. Some of them use too much style but most are refreshingly well executed, subtle and classy. This episode was full of irritating performances, including McGovern/Casino Royale man’s intonation that made everything sound like a question, hardly a subtle portrayal of an investigative journalist. It also had some of the worst dialogue so far and perhaps more of it. And the plot development became frustratingly unsatisfying too. But occasionally I am still gobsmacked, even in this mostly bad episode, and I am still intrigued.
With some questions answered new ones arise. Why kill the pestering journalist when he appeared to know very little? More interesting still, why did Gatehouse kill him, when he was investigating police corruption? Do Gabriel and Gatehouse know each other? Perhaps Gabriel simply can’t remember with that bullet inconveniencing his brain. And how exactly did it get there? Was Gabriel responsible for the death of partner Delaney? Can Chiwetel Ejiofor put in a good performance despite increasingly ludicrous plot twists for his character and sledgehammer emotional dialogue? Will Bede and Glickman’s girlfriend get together? Will next week be more enjoyable and make more sense? Will I get to see Bob Harris completely naked?
I’ll keep watching for the answers.
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You can rely on Disney’s well known Pirate franchise for one of the universal laws of cinema. As sure as night follows day and the tide washes in and out, each successive film in the Pirates of the Caribbean series will be worse than the last. Like a basket of juicy fruit left to rot on a sunny beach, the individual ingredients that made the first film so fun gradually lose their enjoyment. You can also bet your house that in increasingly more desperate attempts to recapture the magic of the Black Pearl’s virgin voyage, the plots will acquire more baffling layers with each new instalment. And this film’s ending proves once again that there will always be room for yet another adventure.
However this film does break some new ground. For example for the first time ever, the title is as confusing and vague as the many competing strands of the story. The tides are certainly no more or less important than before and there is nothing strange about the film; within Captain Jack’s world at least mermaids and myths are pretty standard fare.
Things get off to a familiar but promising start. Our beloved scallywag Jack Sparrow is in London to rescue sidekick Mr Gibbs from a trial, which would be swiftly followed by a hanging if the bloodthirsty crowd had their way. After some costumed shenanigans and typically camp stalking about, Jack and Gibbs find themselves at the King’s palace. The crown wish to find the fountain of youth before the crafty Catholics in Spain and they’ve heard Sparrow knows the way.
Jack gets an audience with the King in a sumptuous room and Depp gets ample opportunity to showcase the physical comedy and wordplay audiences have come to love. The King is played by Richard Griffiths in a delightful cameo. Needless to say Jack manages an escape. Later in the film Geoffrey Rush’s Barbossa takes the time to mentally plan an escape route, presuming that’s what Depp’s madcap Sparrow does, only for Jack to reply that he sometimes “improvises”. The running and jumping through an impressive CGI London in the film’s opening segment, is ad hoc Jack Sparrow action at its best.
Sadly the film simply cannot maintain the entertainment levels as chase follows chase and sword fight follows sword fight. Most of the action is surprisingly inventive, especially since we’ve had three films already but at times even Jack’s luck over judgment leaps of faith enter ridiculous territory. The stunts become monotonous by the end because of the film’s relentless opening barrage, tarnishing the drama of the finale. There are no explosive cannon battles for those who love their ships and nautical duels. Instead of boarding we get an awful lot of trekking through the jungle.
Having said this, two standout scenes are exciting and engaging. I’ve already mentioned Captain Jack prancing his way around London but the first mermaid attack scene is also terrific. Only the Pirates franchise could deliver such a scene. It’s got frights and bites, fangs and bangs. The mermaids are less interesting by the end, but here they are introduced in a lengthy scene as seductive and dangerous. The attack comes as a real shock and well managed change in pace after they are lured in to enchant some pirates left as bait.
The mermaid battle is an epic, long scene and the film is so long that it loses much of its epic feel. Sub plots like a half formed romance between a mermaid and clergy man could have been slimmed considerably or dropped altogether .The runtime is literally bladder bursting, as a friend of mine dashed from the room as soon as the credits rolled. I was content to sit and watch the names of the cast fly at me in 3D however, because of Hans Zimmer’s magnificent music, which remains the best thing about the Pirates of the Caribbean. There are some nice variations and new additions to the main theme in this instalment but I can’t help feeling it’s time he focused his talents on new projects, rather than continually recycling one stunning track.
Hang on though; surely this is still worth seeing just for another outing from Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow? Isn’t he the single most important pillar upon which the blockbusters are based? I always assumed, like many critics, that the romantic pairing of Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley in the previous films was holding back Depp’s brilliance. But having seen On Stranger Tides, in which Depp must mostly steer proceedings alone, his performance is somehow less effective without them.
He is at his best in this film when dancing around other characters, making light of them. Penelope Cruz is suitably sassy and sexy as a pirate, albeit with an unrealistically attractive cleavage for a hardened sailor, and she and Depp have some fun exchanges, but putting Sparrow at the heart of a love story doesn’t work. Even the filmmakers realise this by backing out of it somewhat at the end. Captain Jack Sparrow is not the emotional type. And what made him so attractive to audiences, was the way he mocked the clichéd relationship between Bloom and Knightley. Making him part of the conventional storyline robs his performance of some of its power.
Depp is still fantastic fun at points though, rising above an overcomplicated script with a bizarre fascination for throwing in random and rubbish rhymes. This film may just go through the motions and it may be far too long, but it’s undeniably grand and fairly pleasing despite the odd yawn.
Rather than fork out for its occasional 3D gimmicks of a sword jutting out of the screen though, I would recommend ditching the high seas for inner city London and Joe Cornish’s critically acclaimed directorial debut, Attack the Block. I saw this just hours before Pirates 4 and without adding anything new to the chorus of praise around it, I will just say go and see it. It is funnier and more thrilling than Rob Marshall’s blockbuster and doesn’t deserve to sink.
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Tagged 2010, 3D, 4, acting, action, actor, Aliens, America, Anne's, At World's End, Attack the Block, Australia, aye, bangs, Barbossa, beauty, bites, Black Pearl, Blackbeard, bladder, Blade, blog, Bloom, blud, Bray, Britain, British, bursting, camp, captain, Caribbean, cart, Catherine, Catholic, CGI, chemistry, Chicago, choreography, cinema, cleavage, clergy, Comedy, Cornish, costume, Cruz, culture, Curse of the Black Pearl, Daniel Day Lewis, daughter, David, day, Dead Man's Chest, Deadwood, debut, Depp, director, dull, eccentric, England, English, entertaining, epic, fangs, feds, FIFA, fight, film, films, Flickering, follows, fountain, franchise, frights, funny, Geoffrey, Gibbs, gimmick, girl, glasses, grand, Griffiths, Guardian, Hector, high sea, hilarious, history, horses, Ian, impostor, Incredible, Independent, inevitable, inner city, instalment, island, Jack, Joe, Johnny, jolly, jungle, justice, Keira, Keith, King, Knightley, Labour, length, Liam, London, love, man, Marshall, McShane, mermaid, movie, movies, musicals, myth, narrative, nautical, new, newcomers, next, night, Nine, novel, of, old flame, On Stranger Tides, Orlando, overcomplicated, Penelope, performance, Pirates, pleasant, plot, pregnant, Protestant, Queen, quest, race, random, revenge, Review, rhymes, Richard, Richards, ridiculous, rings, Rob, Roger, Rolling, romance, Rotten, routine, rubbish, runtime, Rush, sail, sailor, sassy, scallywag, scary, scene, script, sex, sexy, shenanigans, ship, silly, slang, soldiers, Spanish, Sparrow, Stones, story, style, sub plot, suit, suitably, swords, Tear, Technorati, Telegraph, The, The King's Speech, thoughts, tide, Tomatoes, too long, Trim, tv, UK, Ultra, Verdict, water, woman, writer, writing, youth
Today I finished The Day of The Triffids by John Wyndham. I’ve also nearly finished a collection of short stories by Murakami I’ve been nibbling at for some time and begun Chekhov’s The Lady with the Dog, as well as reading The Kiss, a short while ago. On the recommendation of Tomcat (see his insightful, well written blog on books here: http://tomcatintheredroom.wordpress.com/) I have ordered an additional collection of short stories and shan’t post anything on “The Art of the short story” or attempt any creations of my own until I’ve delved through it and added further variety to my depth of knowledge.
I think that short stories are something I need to seriously study if I aim to be both a better reader and writer. They are economical examples of excellent craft, as well as being sublime, symbolic and inspired in their brevity. They often better capture the essence of a single idea or emotion than a fully fledged novel, padded out with all its requirements. I need to learn how to think of original ideas, as well as be more efficient with my language. Anyway enough of that till I’ve read some more and pieced some half decent musings together.
With my plans for short stories on hold, and an unexpectedly busy weekend ahead, I’m unsure where to turn for my next read. Certainly I have a pile of books to choose from and I can continue to consume short stories but I also feel I should be choosing something else substantial and making headway with it. My audio book too is on hold as I shall be unable to listen as attentively as I would like over the next few days. At the moment I’m leaning towards Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D.H. Lawrence as my next hurdle in this marathon month.
I say hurdle but on completing Triffids today I am starting to relish the immense range of books ahead of me. I was surprised by how different the novel by Wyndham was to an adaptation by the BBC, with Eddie Izzard as a villainous figure, a couple of years ago. From what I remember of this adaptation, Izzard played a character called Coker, brimming with a lust for power and the manipulative, ruthless personality to acquire it in a fallen world.
I might have remembered the BBC version incorrectly. If it was indeed BBC; could have been ITV? Probably BBC. Anyway in the novel Coker is an enemy of the protagonist and narrator initially. He believes that the sighted should do what they can to help the blind and cunningly kidnaps some of those that can still see, who were intending to start a new community in the country. He puts them to work looking after groups of the blind in the city, a plan destined to fail. But later he and main character Bill become friends, and Coker admits the error of his well intentioned ways. Throughout the book, because of lingering notions of the adaptation coupled with his earlier behaviour, I was expecting Coker to turn nasty and reveal his own personal malice and ambition. Instead he was very likeable, an intriguing and helpful character.
Triffids seems on the surface like sensational, pulp sci-fi. My girlfriend smirked and seemed put off the novel when the summary of the plot I gave her was inevitably ludicrous. But despite how ridiculous giant plants menacing the streets and fields of Britain may seem, Triffids is good, serious science fiction. Almost every page has Bill’s first person narration grappling with the ethical dilemmas of such an uneven apocalypse; with most of the population blinded but a few spared by odd circumstance. There are well written explanations of loneliness, realistic dialogue and fascinating interactions and bonds between strangers thrown together by terror. Not to mention warnings about nuclear weapons, biological experimentation, future energy crises and unsustainable lifestyles rolled into one idea. This book is impossible to adapt well. Nothing can replicate the way the Triffids are described or the realistic realisation of the probable truth with the passing of time. Screen versions require more drama, more enemies; a conspiracy of some kind that loses the truth in the essence of the original.
Triffids, for all its doom and grand ideas, was not a heavy or taxing read. Wyndham manages to keep things remarkably light. Part of this is to do with the zippy pace, another the narrative voice of Bill. But for me it was the quirky touches of early 1950s, post-war British period detail that made me smile amongst the horrors. Characters would constantly refer to situations as “queer” and Bill would refer to his love interest in an old fashioned way with terms like “darling” and “sweet”. She would often reply with “honey” in the most grave of circumstances or idea laden conversations. None of this was derogatory for women when balanced with the overall impression and philosophy of equality evident in the book; simply a sign of the author’s times and an innocence that would not leave his characters, no matter what.
So one book down. Hopefully many more to go. And I promise some accompanying articles at some point.
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Tagged 1945, 1950s, 1951, 4, apocalypse, atom, BBC, Bill, biological, blog, blogger, bomb, book, Bradbury, British, challenge, Chatterley's, Chekhov, Coker, Cold, Colonel, Comedy, craft, crises, day, DH, dick, doom, dystopia, Easter, Energy, EPQ, ethics, experimentation, fiction, fight, film, funny, future, heavy, history, Huxley, ideas, imagination, in, ITV, John, Lady, Lawrence, Liam, light hearted, love, lover, mannerisms, march, Masen, month, movie, Murakami, Nabokov, novel, nuclear, of, One, plot, Politics, post-war, progress, quirky, reading, Red, Review, Room, sci-fi, science, script, sex, short, story, symbolic, taboo, taxing, The, The Kiss, The Lady with the Dog, Tomcat, tribal, Triffids, Trim, tv, UK, Verdict, war, weapons, writer, writing, Wyndham
Carey Mulligan has certainly shot to fame and critical acclaim since her appearance in perhaps the best ever Doctor Who episode, the chilling and gripping Blink back in the modern show’s third series. The episode was penned by the now lead writer and executive producer Steven Moffat and has won him great kudos that helped boost his own recent rise through the ranks of influence, but it would not have left such a lasting impression but for the instantly likeable, occassionally funny, warm and convincing performance by Mulligan as Sally Sparrow. It was her role in the Nick Hornby scripted film An Education that truly marked her breakthrough with Bafta and Academy Award nominations, but when I finally saw this film I was surprised to find the confident adult Sally Sparrow transformed into a young girl; still confident but uncertainly and naively embarking on adventures, led deceptively by an older man skilfully mainpulating her lustful longing for someone to hit play on the remote control of life. I did not enjoy An Education as much I was expecting to, as it had darker undertones not alluded to in the promotion of the film. It’s clear from the start that the charming older man is also predatory and the narrative can only end badly, but the picture was marketed as a vivid, coming of age journey. Mulligan’s performance though is nevertheless excellent, showcasing her diversity as a performer and is easily the best feature of the movie, along with Alfred Molina’s turn as her father and the lively soundtrack (the opening credits set to “On the Rebound” are particuarly invigorating and capture the youthful essence of the era and film).
I wish someone could enlighten me about the captivating music used in the trailer below to Mulligan’s latest project, Never Let Me Go. It’s a testament to Mulligan’s deserved rise, her ease on screen as the key character for the audience, that she tops the bill for this film ahead of established blockbuster performer Keira Knightley. Even from this tantalising trailer, pumped full of restrained emotion and tempting details, Knightley’s performance lacks the subtlety and engaging charge of Mulligan’s. Andrew Garfield, recently cast as the new Spiderman (a dauntingly iconic American role for a young British actor), who was excellent in Channel 4’s startling bleak and brutal Red Riding series, takes the male lead in this adaptation of a dystopian novel by Kazuo Ishiguro chosen for the opening night of the London Film Festival. From the trailer it appears a taught love triangle shall play out in confined, beautifully shot rural locations against a secretive and ethically divisive alternative history backdrop. It’s always unwise to get over excited about a trailer but I for one can’t wait until Never Let Me Go is released in the UK on January the 21st, if only to see Mulligan on screen again, as she completely commands this trailer, setting the idyllic scene for heartbreak and drama irresistibily. She has been courted and reportedly signed on to star in On Chesil Beach, an adaptation of Ian McEwan’s novella for the screen, directed by Sam Mendes. She would certainly have the depth to be the perfect Florence, but whether or not any screenplay could replicate the intricate flashbacks and honeymoon night catastrophe of the book is another matter. This is another project I look forward to though and would similarly showcase the best of storytelling in fantastic, beautifully English rural surroundings.
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Tagged 2010, 2011, 21st, 4, actor, actress, adaptation, alternative history, An Education, Andrew, bafta, best, Blink, boarding school, Britain, Carey, Channel, cinema, cinematography, Doctor Who, Dorset, dystopia, episode, Festival, film, Garfield, Guardian, Ian, idyllic, Ishiguro, january, Kazuo, Keira, Knightley, location, London, love, McEwan, Mendes, Moffat, Molina, movie, Mulligan, Never Let Me Go, nominee, On Chesil Beach, Opening Night, oscar, Peter Bradshaw, picture, Red, Riding, Romanek, rural, Sally, Sam, script, Series 3, sinister, soundtrack, Sparrow, Spiderman, stunning, trailer, triangle, undertones, Weeping Angels