Mills and Boon: Sorting the fakes from the real thing

A friend of mine has hit upon the genius idea, in where else but the pub, of starting a Mills and Boon society at his university. “Regular” readers might have noticed my own Mills and Boon parody when discussing where to take the continuation James Bond novels next. Googling Mills and Boon and looking  for genuine extracts is a tricky business indeed, so frequent and believable are the imitations.

http://www.dailyfunnystuff.net/the-latest-mills-and-boon-novel-a-story-of-unbridled-passion

The first time I read this, in a different and less obvious context, I assumed this story entitled “The Welsh Lovers” was an actual Mills and Boon tale. I didn’t read all the way to the end for sometime because I was laughing so hard at what I thought to be the real and utterly serious sentences of a romantic fiction author. It really is extremely difficult to spot the spoofs at times because Mills and Boon is so cliche it is easy to imitate. The line “breathlessly we rolled together in the now damp grass” could so easily be real. “Now damp” is just the sort of far from subtle innuendo certain strands of the Mills and Boon books specialise in.

 

The Tunnel (Der Tunnel)

Film fans love a good tunnel. Whether it be the ingenious method for a daring bank robbery or the claustrophobic road to freedom from a tightly fenced POW camp, they are a vital ingredient of many a cinematic classic. Tunnels are a striking but simple storytelling device, that place the focus of the narrative firmly on the characters of people getting from one place to another, usually against the odds and at a snail’s pace. And what are all stories but snappier versions of the long and slow journey of life?

Sitting just a hay-fever induced sneeze away from surprisingly sizzling Easter sunshine with the windows flung open to the fresh spring air, I doubted my ability to fully inhabit the journey of the characters in Der Tunnel, a German film finally released on DVD on the 25^th of April. In the comfort and luxuries of a 21^st century room, blessed with the freedom to liberally gulp countryside air, I felt a million miles away from the damp, stuffy, volatile tubes carved torturously through the soil by countless characters in tunnel based films of the past. Not to mention feeling a world away from the 1960s Berlin setting of Der Tunnel.

Berlin is a constant inspiration for superb historical drama. It’s a fascinating city and just a glance at the ingredients that comprise its vibrant whole tells you why it’s so popular for storytellers. It’s steeped in history of all kinds, even before the rollercoaster the 20^th century put the place through.  It became a radical melting pot for cultural and political change, ravaged by wars and economic turbulence and enriched by the presence of artists, writers, intellectuals and dancers.

Then with the division of the city via its infamous wall, the eyes of the world came to rest on a stark clash of cultures. When JFK declared himself a spiritual resident of the city he confirmed its status as a symbol of the Cold War, the tense conflict in microcosm. The West stood for freedom and the East for brainwashed or enforced conformity. Whilst Der Tunnel is ultimately pro the West and anti the Eastern regime, it does make you consider such simplifications more carefully. Standards of living do not change magically because of a move, and state intrusion can be replaced by the media. The West is no sure-fire ticket to happiness.

 Of all the tales inspired by the city though it’s perhaps those of suspicious spies and elusive espionage that endure with the widest and most thrilling legacy. Set a film in Berlin and it’s almost guaranteed shorthand for the audience that secrets will lurk and loom at the centre of the plot. Der Tunnel is no exception to this rule. There are a number of features that could be ripped straight from a Cold War thriller, with a manipulative East German Colonel using relationships and blackmail to protect the regime a superb example.

And yet this isn’t a tale of meddling foreigners but a story based on the truth of real Berliners, trying to escape meddling and ideological interference in their private lives. It’s principally the tale of champion swimmer Harry Melchior, who gives up a comfortable and celebrated lifestyle in the East to flee to the West before the wall is completed. He’s unable to get his beloved sister out in time though and he sets about finding a way to “bring her across”, and is joined by others cruelly parted from family, friends and lovers.

It’s a dramatic scene between two separated lovers, one of them also Melchior’s love interest, that really stood out for me from Der Tunnel. One of many emotional moments in the film, this rises above the rest because of superb acting and high drama but also due to the visual presence of the wall: painfully, physically and unavoidably denying the lovers a precious moment together. The tender scenes after this event are also moving, and the standout scene itself certainly has the potential to pluck tears from the coldest of eyes.

At just twenty minutes short of three hours long, I was worried about the wearisome effects of Der Tunnel. Would I need to scramble to the surface for air? In many ways this isn’t very creative or original storytelling, but it’s undeniably well executed, from the acting to the direction. I was engrossed by the lives and loves of the characters throughout. Crucially the tense and exciting climax delivers a classic, satisfying conclusion that’s fitting for such a classic premise.

Transforming and adapting the essence of simplicity: Never Let Me Go

The way in which I discovered the story to Never Let Me Go is typical to our cultural age. Last year I discovered a trailer which hinted at a marvellously moving tale, stuffed with fine acting, a soaring soundtrack and an intriguing premise. Then there was a second trailer, less gripping and more melancholy than the first, which turned out to more accurately reflect the film. Haunted and beguiled by the tremendous first snippet though, I sought out the novel and determined to read it before the film’s release in 2011.

It was the first time I’d read a book by Kazuo Ishiguro and I’ve since become a fan. It was satisfying to discover the subtle, incredibly English tone of the book so well mirrored in that first trailer. It was rewarding too to delve deep into the joys of Ishiguro’s fabulously realised narrator Kathy H, so attractively played in that teaser by Carey Mulligan. Ultimately the book felt so real, raw and affecting, and the writing was so beautiful, that my allegiances switched devotedly to the original work, despite that snapshot of film hooking me in the first place. However in our modern world of innumerable choice, adaptation and interpretation, I realise the futility of being a snob about such things. Just because I’d embraced the true complexity of the original work, did not diminish the potential power of the film.

I say complexity, but the real merit of the novel was its immense simplicity. It’s perhaps this that the film struggles to adequately capture. Cinema usually requires more than the touchingly mundane. I’ve commented before on my blog that the adaptation would struggle to balance the different chronological segments of the novel. Reading it leaves you with a vivid sense of childhood nostalgia and an unquestionable understanding of the importance of youth and school to Kathy H and the other main characters, Tommy and Ruth. The sinisterly picturesque boarding school of Hailsham is clearly of paramount importance to the characters in the latter stages of the film too, but it was not as vibrantly established earlier on.

That said the filmmakers do a wonderfully thorough job of making the childhood scenes convincing. The younger incarnations of Keira Knightley and Carey Mulligan in particular look remarkably spot-on. More importantly all the key performances from the younger actors are excellent. Ella Purnell, as the young Ruth, even gives a far superior performance to Hollywood starlet Knightley as the grown up. If you’ve read the novel you’ll appreciate the way Purnell better captures Ruth’s good and bad sides, whereas Knightley seems rather one dimensional in her portrayal of Ruth as predominantly vindictive. If you haven’t read the book you’ll still see the Pirates of the Caribbean star’s turn as the weakest of the three leads.

Mulligan continues to impress. She stole the show in what’s widely hailed as the best modern Doctor Who episode, Blink, and has gone from strength to strength ever since, breaking through internationally with her performance in An Education. Here she does a wonderful job with some tricky bits of voiceover. As a general rule, voiceover as a story telling device can either be atrociously bad or astoundingly good. Mulligan’s efforts to replicate the tone of melancholic memory from the first person narration of the book ensure that in Never Let Me Go, voiceover tends to tread closer to the positive end of the spectrum.

She’s also regularly fabulous in her scenes with Knightley and Andrew Garfield. Her pained expressions and displays of emotional restraint come just about as close as possible to the brilliant subtlety and ambiguities of the novel. She’s as likeable as Kathy H should be. Garfield also adds another respectable notch to his CV, coping admirably with Tommy’s notorious rages and his place at the centre of a slow burning, heart wrenching love triangle. Despite Knightley giving the least classy and layered performance, she also doesn’t do a bad job. In many ways she may have been limited by a necessarily narrow interpretation of Ruth’s character in the book and a lack of time for her character to redeem herself in hospital scenes with Kathy on screen, as she does on the page.

The book was finely crafted, composed and executed, to produce a tender, touching and intelligent final product. To an extent the film is also brought to life with bags of quality. There are some luscious shots from director Mark Romanek that conjure feelings of nostalgia; windswept British landscapes and colourful toys abandoned in the summery grass. It’s for the most part perfectly acted, with good contribtutions from Charlotte Rampling as Miss Emily and Sally Hawkins as Miss Lucy alongside the leads. In general the whole film is full of evocative and eerie period detail, given the slightly sci-fi premise.

On the page the fact that there was a mere whiff of sci-fi, that didn’t actually lead to some groundbreaking revelation, was perhaps a minor disappointment. But in a way it allowed for a more pure distillation of relationships, love and the human capacity (or perhaps a very British ability) to cope with suffering and endure with dignity, rather than run away. The film was always going to require some more direct references to the purpose of Hailsham and its children. And because there is no huge, thriller like conspiracy, Never Let Me Go will feel a letdown to most and unbelievably light on plot and originality. There’s simply never a sufficient peak to the drama, just a constant tasteful simmering of emotion.

It certainly would have been a mistake for Alex Garland’s script to transform hidden truths, memories and secrets into contorted plot twists. Part of Never Let Me Go’s refreshing realism, maturity and originality is its subdued approach. But it also led to people leaving the cinema in front of me bemoaning the whole idea of the story as weak. Somehow the film needed something more and if the novel had one fault it was its lack of a satisfying, big reveal. The poignancy of the writing meant the lack of drama mattered less that it does on film.

However just because Never Let Me Go is an inferior adaptation with a fatal flaw and is often a bit dull, does not make it bad. Some scenes really stand out with every little ingredient almost perfect. It’s undoubtedly superbly made. Even those cinemagoers leaving with disappointments around me were singing the praises enthusiastically of the acting talent on show. It’s a mystery to me how the actors at least did not get some awards season nominations for this film. And as a fan of the book it’s disappointing the film failed to capture its distinctive essence and live up to the intoxicating promise of earlier trailers. I guess the only real way to judge Never Let Me Go, whether you know the story or not, is to see it yourself. Personally for its refusal to be bombastic and sensational alone it’s a worthwhile watch.

Up/The Other Guys

I saw both Disney Pixar’s Up and the latest comic offering from Will Ferrell, The Other Guys this week. Needless to say these two films are poles apart in many ways, but they are also both funny, entertaining and worth a look.

Up first is Up, then. I was keen to see this simply for the renowned beauty of Pixar’s animation. I had absolutely loved the look and style of The Incredibles, a Pixar picture based upon ordinary humans as opposed to toys, or fish, or cars. I liked seeing ordinary suburban objects vividly rendered in marvellous colour, as well as the wonderful expressions upon a human, animated face. Up follows elderly widower Carl Fredricksen from the very ordinary start point of his home on a varied, beautiful, unpredictable adventure to South America. At first Up really does dwell on the perfection of its visuals, with a dialogue-less montage depicting Carl’s entire married life feeling like a work of art; a mini-film in itself showing off the talents of the team at Pixar. However as always with these films there are dollops of sentiment that wedge lumps firmly in the throat and bring tears to the eyes. As with The Incredibles the action sequences are also genuinely gripping and jolting as well as visually stunning. Perhaps most impressively these action set pieces fit into a unique and original story and don’t feel out of place. Carl steers his house, elevated by numerous multi-coloured helium balloons, all the way to Paradise Falls, the destination of his and his wife’s childhood dreams, negotiating bruising storms and encounters with strange creatures along the way.

For a children’s film, Up is incredibly touching and engaging. It is not surprising that the film is often funny given its intended tone and audience, but it is impressive that the gags roll alongside a heart-warming story of an elderly man looking for purpose in life and not expecting to find it. The whole thing uses the nostalgia of its central character and the soundtrack often sounds like the sort of thing you’d hear on a ride at a classic, retro fun fair, with clever variations on a repeated main theme for sad or happy, wondrous moods. The film rarely drags, despite there being few actually hilarious moments and this may be due to the overall gloss of the visuals, as well as some excellent voice acting. There is a point where you fear the narrative may fizzle out, but some superb climatic action sequences resurrect things. Overall Up is a tender tale, with some occasionally insightful dialogue and a healthy sprinkling of originally executed ideas, such as the stream of consciousness talking dogs. And of course it looks marvellous.

The Other Guys is not heart-warming and indeed relies more upon cringe inducing humour at times, but it shares with Up a feeling of originality in its storytelling, along with some riveting action scenes. For me the strongest point of The Other Guys was its ability not to take itself too seriously. It was simultaneously a cop movie, an action movie and a comedy movie, as well as aiming piss taking swipes at all these genres and more with some brilliant gags. I cannot usually tolerate the onscreen presence of Will Ferrell and I do my best to avoid his films like the plague. But alongside tough guy Mark Wahlberg, brilliantly embracing a comic role, and outside of a sports setting, I bought into the guy as a comic genius at times. I cannot remember all the successful jokes in the movie but amongst the best was a silent fight at a funeral, a hilarious, not at all subtle exchange about a mug with the label; “FBI-Female Body Inspector” and a “bad cop-bad cop” routine. All of these moments and more had me and others in the cinema laughing loudly.

Unusually for such a film the plot to The Other Guys doesn’t feel completely redundant either, which is an added bonus for a film brimming with hilarious moments and ensures it is something more than a collection of comedy sketches. Admittedly lingering flashbacks on both Wahlberg’s character mistakenly shooting a star baseball player and Ferrell’s college career as a pimp do feel a little like detached sketches, but all in all they just about masquerade as relevant back-story, especially when funny. The action sequences are either big, brash and completely ridiculous, as with the car chase at the beginning featuring “the guys”, Samuel L. Jackson and Dwayne Johnson. Or they are big, brash and slightly less ridiculous, vaguely fitting into the plot and wowing the audience, for example a climatic, clichéd gun fight is followed by a “grand theft auto” inspired car chase with an impressive, destructive collision. A somewhat baffling credit sequences detailing the excess and waste of the world’s bankers belatedly aims to give The Other Guys a moral compass. Steve Coogan’s amusing financial swindler was certainly not treated as some evil tycoon within the film, but simply as an idiot. In many ways The Other Guys is an idiotic film, which idiots and those who enjoy the mishaps of fools alike will be able to enjoy and find hilarious. However I think it’s a cleverly composed piece of stupidity.