[Copied and pasted from my external blog. Please do take a look. I'm trying to update regularly, every few days or so] This was a remake, of the classic 80s horror film. I’m not generally a fan of remakes. The overwhelming question that I find myself asking whenever watching one, is “Why?” I, honest to God, do not understand why people make them. It’s all be done before, and it invites inevitable comparisons with the original. And I can’t think of any remake that has outmatched the original (if you can, please do let me know via commenting). And given the rush of remakes at the moment, it seems that there’s some sort of originality drought going on, which is just perplexing. With the horror film remakes that have surged recently, particularly the Rob Zombie ones [which a) I initially thought this was one of, and b) were awful and unnecessary], it seems a particularly relevant issue in relation to this. And so I entered this film with some preconceptions. Fortunately (or unfortunately, I suppose, depending on who you are) I saw this film at a preview screening immediately followed by the original, allowing for an easy comparison. The chief difference that I noticed, was that this new film takes itself terribly seriously. It replaces the self-mocking amusement value of the original, going instead for the seriously frightening atmosphere. And to be honest, I think it was probably a mistake. Don’t get me wrong, it was jumpy in places, and I did like the ending (actually a good reinterpretation of the end of the original). But the problem it faced was that it was too predictable, and that’s a real downfall for a horror film trying to be scary. It’s not entirely Nightmare‘s fault, but rather something inherent to remakes. With an original film this popular, most people (particularly those who would be drawn by the title) have already seen the original, and know what happens. So unless it kicks the original plot into touch (which this doesn’t; instead clinging to with the same desperate insistence of a Scottish Nationalist to the idea that independence is a good idea), then it’s going to be handicapped on that level. But moving away from remake bashing, for a moment, I’d like to take a moment to consider this film in its own right. And to be honest, it doesn’t do too well there. It’s main draw is a fantastic performance from Jackie Earle Haley, as the unmanicured villain. He was very good, and actually made one of the more comedic classic horror villains somewhat scary. Then again, that’s probably not a surprise to anyone who saw him in Watchmen. Another of the acting points I want to comment on, is a young man by the name of Kyle Gallner. Now, I should point out that myself and Ashleigh are divided on this, but I didn’t like him. He was good in Haunting in Connecticut, as a cancer patient haunted by ghosts. He looked mournful, tragic, and genuinely ill. The trouble is that he looks the same even when playing other characters. He constantly looked sickly and like he was about to burst into tears, and the sheer pathos of his facial expression was a distraction for the entire duration of the film. Utterly pathetic might have flown in his first major film, but he’s been doing it for three films now, and it’s really getting old. So in conclusion, what do I think? I didn’t like it. 80s horror films of the type of Nightmare on Elm Street were tongue in cheek, and it seems to detract when it takes itself too seriously. Aside from a carbon copy of the bath-hand scene, it didn’t use comedy at all, and suffered from typical problems of predictability. If you’re a fan of the original, you might want to give it a go for contrast’s sake, and if you’re the kind of moron who thinks “HORROR!” and laps it up regardless of quality, you’ve probably ignored everything I’ve just said. My advice, to be completely honest, is to buy the DVD of the original instead.
[Copied and pasted from my external blog. Please do take a look. I'm trying to update regularly, every few days or so] This is mostly for readers in the UK, so I apologise to any international readers. But hey, you never know, you might find it interesting anyway. Today is election day. At time of writing, the polling stations have been open for about an hour. And I am begging every single UK citizen, who is over 18, reading this to go out to their polling station, and cast their vote. I don’t think I can overstate how important this is. Today you can decide who is going to be in government tomorrow. If you have the opportunity, and do not vote today, in my opinion you have no right to complain about the result. Now, I am not politically neutral. I think I’ve probably made that abundantly clear already. I am a Labour supporter, and I have already cast my vote according to my conscience. I have voted for the Labour party, because their policies make the most sense. They don’t promise unfeasible tax cuts. They promise to be fair to the poorest people in this country. They have steered us through one of the worst recessions in living memory (which was the fault of the Conservative Thatcher government), and they will continue to bring us through it if we give them the chance to do so. I urge you to read their policies, and consider voting for them. But what I beg you to do, is to not vote for the Tories. I am firmly of the belief that David Cameron and his cronies would be a disaster for this country. They would begin drastic cuts too early, risking a return to the depths of recession. They would alienate economic allies in the EU, with their ridiculously archaic Euroskeptic view (and incidentally, Cameron has not read the Lisbon Treaty. However much you may think there should have been a referendum on the matter, actually gives greater power to Westminster, rather than Brussels). They would cut benefits for many of the families who genuinely and honestly rely on them to get by. They would usher in changes to the law that discriminate against all but the white, middle/upper class, heterosexual married family. Basically, they would return to the dark days of Thatcher. Vote for Labour. Vote for the Lib Dems. Vote for the Greens. Vote for one of the Nationalist parties (if you’re in Scotland or Wales). Vote for an independent. Preferably don’t vote for the BNP or UKIP. Read the parties’ politics, what they would do for this country, and decide on that basis. I’m not stupid, I don’t think that the Tories are evil. I think that they are wrong. And I also don’t like how they have conducted their campaign, using millions of pounds of donation from Lord Ashcroft; a man who doesn’t pay tax in the UK, but still thinks it’s his right to decide how and by whom this country is run. And Rupert Murdoch. The man who wants to buy Number 10, who wants to install his man as PM, so that the BBC will be dismantled, and he can expand his monopoly. The Sun, et al, have lost all sense of responsible journalism, declaring Cameron the winner of debates in which he floundered, and lying to the public at large. Today they run with a gaudy Obama-style image of Cameron. Don’t do this to Britain. The choice is yours, this is the principle of democracy. I haven’t always been it’s greatest advocate or supporter, but I’m asking you to prove to me today that it has merit. So please, go down to the polling station today, and cast your vote. Because untold numbers have died over the ages so that you can do so. And if the country is to survive the next five years, every one of you needs to. Go out and vote, for policy, not personality. For equality, not closed mindedness. For the future, not for the past. Thank you. “In a democracy the poor will have more power than the rich, because there are more of them, and the will of the majority is supreme.” -Aristotle, Politics.
[Copied and pasted from my external blog. Please do take a look. I'm trying to update regularly, every few days or so] I did it! Six Star Wars films, 12.8hrs of film (according to iTunes), watched in one day. Okay, so I finished about half an hour after midnight, but that’s just because I overslept yesterday morning. The point is that I watched them all in one go, the only breaks being the necessary ones for food, toilet, and showering. So what was my overwhelming impression of the whole thing? Just how much better the original three were. I know it’s become almost a cliché in itself to attack the prequels, but it really is true. I watched the prequels first, and as soon as I switched from Revenge of the Sith to A New Hope, the difference was immediately noticeable. The story was better, the acting wasn’t wooden and artificial. That’s not to say everything in the prequels was bad, but they certainly didn’t measure up. And that’s probably George Lucas’ fault. The idea of the prequels could have been good. It could have rounded off the story, and completed it. As things stand, they just feel like a money-grabbing add-on. A bit of graffiti, maybe. I don’t know. In particular, The Phantom Menace is one of the worst films ever made. And it isn’t because of the actors. Ewan McGregor, Liam Neeson, Ian McDiarmid (who was particularly good in an episode of Morse, if anyone’s interested), Samuel L Jackson, Natalie Portman (though I’ll mention her later). All distinguished thespians. No, it’s the story, and the dialogue that let it down, which rests in Lucas’ remit. Though having complimented the cast, there are some considerations that need to be made. Firstly, Haden Christensen. He really, truly was awful. And maybe it’s the fault of the writing he had to deal with, I don’t know. But he managed to make Darth Vader, one of the scariest film villains in science-fiction film history, into a whinging spoilt brat. He did nothing but complain, and moan about his feelings, and how everyone is unfair. It may be an accurate portrayal of a teenager, but my God it makes for awful viewing. And for the record, Natalie Portman is not a good actress. Everything she said was so wooden it was almost a relief when she died. But they are still one of the best fantasy/sci-fi series in film. The story is one which grabs readers, the characters are (mostly) are engaging, and the lightsaber is probably the best sci-fi weapon ever conceived of. The older films might look more old-fashioned, but they are good, honest, solid filmmaking. Overall, the films kept me interested and entertained for 12.8hrs, which is an achievement not to be sniffed at. Well done, Mr Lucas, you money-grabbing tit. So now, as King of the Geeks, I am awaiting my crown of lightsabers. Bow before me, minions! (Oh, and if you’re interested, I posted my running thoughts on the saga, including a lot more minor criticisms, on my twitter feed, which you can find here. You know. In case you’re interested.)
[Copied and pasted from my external blog. Please do take a look. I'm trying to update regularly, every few days or so] Happy Star Wars day! Yes, it's a bad joke, but a good enough excuse for me to do something daft. My project today, is to watch all six Star Wars films consecutively. Why yes, I am a complete geek. I'm going to start with the prequels, partly for the chronological value, and partly because I want it to end on a high note. As I write this I'm about midway through Episode I, and to be honest, all of the gripes about it are coming out. Tomorrow is going to be spent hunting down the idiot who told George Lucas that Jar Jar was a good idea for a character. As to why I'm doing this, I'm a bit unsure myself. Yes, I like Star Wars, but not on the obsessive level which would usually provoke such an event. I think it might have a similar reason to why I did the Lord of the Rings marathon a few months ago. Bragging rights. Afterwards, I'll be able to say I've done it, with all of the geeky benefits thereof. Basically, I'm mental. But hey, it gives me something to do while I revise, and distracts me from politics for a bit. And I should have it finished before midnight, if iTunes is telling me the truth. I'll post up a second, reflective, blog post once I'm done. Until then, May the Fourth be with you!
[Copied and pasted from my external blog. Please do take a look. I'm trying to update regularly, every few days or so] It’s actually not ironic at all, I just wanted to make a bad pun on ironic. And now that I have, we can all pretend that I didn’t, and get on with the review… I went into this film with a some trepidation, having read a number of reviews that said this film wasn’t any good. Whilst my first response to that was annoyance, in retrospect, it probably improved my experience of it. Why, I hear you ask? Because it was a very good film. The critics clearly either don’t know what they’re talking about, watched a different film to me, or don’t look for the same thing as I do (i.e. entertainment value). But possibly, by entering the theatre with lower expectations, I was more pleasantly surprised by the end product. I really enjoyed the first Iron Man film, and to be honest I haven’t enjoyed a lot of the more mainstream super hero films of late. Batman Begins was good, but The Dark Knight suffered from a combination of second-film syndrome and Christian Bale syndrome. All three Spiderman films have fallen short of greatness and been nothing more than whiny rubbish (largely due to Toby McGuire and Kirsten Dunst; though Willem Dafoe and James Franco have been pretty good throughout). And the less said about Superman Returns the better. But Iron Man was a welcome break from that. It wasn’t whiny, it wasn’t over-serious; it blended fun action, with witty humour, and some fantastic acting from Robert Downey Jr (who really was only playing himself). And now the second film, following on from the unconventional billionaire’s admittance of superhero-ness, but now instead of a bald Jeff Bridges, we have Mickey Rourke channeling Jaws from the Bond films, and Sam Rockwell. It kicks off fairly sedately, with characterisation and plot rather than straight-off action. But whereas this was the downfall of the Batman and Spiderman films, it works here, because of the character of Tony Stark. An easy-going playboy billionaire, lacking Bruce Wayne’s stick up his arse, much in the way of morals, and with a wicked sense of humour. And the darker turn that the plot takes is less jarring than Spiderman 2 and 3‘s introspective emo bull****. This is probably because the self-destructive course Stark takes seems inevitable, even without handy plot device of his impending death. He turns to alcohol and self-absorption with the sort of extravagance that someone with money to burn would, and his redemption from this is believable (relative to the believability of the whole thing, which I’ll touch on later) as well as being slick and witty as ever, as well. Part of the fun factor of the Iron Man films is due to the fact that it’s accurate in terms of people. Stark is Iron Man not because his morals require it, not because he wants to avenge his parents’ death, but because it’s fun. And while he does have a moral element in wanting to change the world, his superhero-ing is clearly more of a playboy enjoyment sort of thing. One of the criticisms I read about Iron Man 2 was that it focused too much on Stark to the exclusion of other characters. I don’t agree with this. Mickey Rourke was devilishly good as the Russian equivalent of Stark, and Gwyneth Paltrow surprised me with an incredibly human Pepper Potts, trying to deal with Stark’s extravagance without understanding where it comes from. True, Downey Jr’s character is always at the centre, but the film is about his character, and the others are secondary to that. However, of my complaints, one of the major ones involves the secondary characters. Firstly, Don Cheadle as Rhodey. Now, don’t get me wrong, Cheadle is a great actor (anyone who has seen the harrowing Hotel Rwanda can testify to that), but as someone who went into this as a fan of the first film, it wrong-footed me for a moment that he had replaced Terrence Howard for no reason I could discern, as Howard was great. With some retrospective googling (surely a phrase that would fit the Doctor to a T), I can see that it’s hardly as out of the blue as I had thought, but still. Also, Scarlet Johanson as Black Widow felt…unneccessary to the plot. I understand she was intended as eye-candy, but I thought she looked bland and fairly uninteresting. Perhaps that’s a personal criticism. The other criticism is more trifling. When Stark places his newly-invented “triangulum” (my name for it) into his chest piece, it instantly reverses the blood poisoning that has been spreading since the first film. This just doesn’t seem at all feasible, and though I don’t really think it’s any more unlikely than the rest of the billionaire with an indestructible suit of flying armour plotline, it stuck out like a jutting nail to my mind. But petty criticisms aside, it was a very enjoyable film, with all the witticisms and action of the first film, with a bit of added plot depth. Despite what the critics thought, I loved it. And this is from the perspective of someone who hasn’t much experience of superhero comics, but knows what a fun film looks like. And the soundtrack kicks ass). (And I realise this marks the second consecutive blog post where I’ve blathered on about something I loved. Next week I promise I’ll rant about something I hate. Probably revision. Or the Tories.)
[Copied and pasted from my external blog. Please do take a look. I'm trying to update regularly, every few days or so] (TTA Press, paperback, 64pp, £5) The first thought that struck me when Gary McMahon’s new novella slid through the letterbox was how pretty it looks. I know the old adage says don’t judge a book by it’s cover, but with Ben Baldwin’s cover art it’s extremely hard not to. And the size of it seems perfect for a bit of light reading (even though it’s immediately apparent that the subject matter will be anything but light). At 64 pages, it’s perfect for a quick dip into McMahon’s disturbing imagination, and as a fan of the novella, I hope that this marks the beginning of a new series of similarly sized publications from TTA (and Andy Cox has given every indication that such was his intention). The novella itself is divided into four sections, focusing on the three victims of sexual abuse, and the sister of one of them, and the introduction immediately indicates the tone that the novella will take. I’m going to try to avoid giving away too much in this review, but anyone who is familiar with McMahon’s work will understand his tone. For those who aren’t, he managed to capture the psychological tone of such masterpieces as the old Silent Hill games. McMahon effortlessly blends the psychological traumas of his characters with a genuinely frightening supernatural force that stalks them. Such is the level of McMahon’s skill that the overwhelming sense of mystery leaves the reader unsure whether what befalls the characters is some supernatural force, or just the manifestation of the abuse they suffered. The message of the fiction is probably the most important thing here. Certainly McMahon’s afterword indicates such, explaining his motivation and intentions with the story, and yet still leaving a modicum of mystery over the whole thing. And that is the most impressive part, from my perspective. Although what happens and what it means is stated with perfect clarity, the reader remains unsettled and curious as to the nuances of meaning. But the plot, and the bizarre things which happen to the characters, are the unsettling part. As the novella states at the beginning, it is concerned with “the results of the harm“, and I’m quite sure that much of the novella is subject to the interpretation, and as with the finest traditions of psychological horror, the meaning will rearrange itself within McMahon’s clearly defined parameters, to touch the particular exposed nerves and fears of the reader. Overall, this novella is triumph of genre fiction, demonstrating precisely how complex and effective such literature can be. It uses the fear that horror specialises in as a vehicle for commentary on the human condition, and in particular the very current issue of pedophilia. In terms of editing, it was up to TTA’s usual high standards, with the only fault I could find being a missing period at the end of the first sentence of the second part, a stumble, but not enough to trip the story up. If I have to criticise it, my only grounds can be the first thing I praised; the length. I read it on the train from Brighton to London, in just over an hour, which is a perfect length for a quick read, but does leave the reader wanting more. So if you’re unfamiliar with McMahon’s fiction, with it’s bargain price and easy length, this is a perfect read. And if you are familiar with him, this whole bloody spiel was probably completely unnecessary.
[Copied and pasted from my external blog. Please do take a look. I'm trying to update regularly, every few days or so] I wrote and submitted this 500-word piece for the Campaign for Real Fear but unfortunately it didn’t make the final ten. It was hardly a surprise, as some of the best in the genre were entering, but since I’ve written it, I thought I’d at least share it with you lovely people. And do keep an eye out for the winners. The best ten stories will be published in a future issue of Black Static (which, for those who don’t know, is the single best short horror-fiction magazine on the UK market), and it’s gonna be pretty damn interesting to see what comes out. Anyway, without further ado, I give you the first piece of my original fiction that I’ve posted here (though possibly not the last): Extra-Curricular By Matthew S. Dent They sit there, watching me. Always watching me with those soulless, empty eyes. They sit there, row upon row, eyes leering and their mouths open. I can feel them sapping me. Sucking the life out of me. It turns my sweat to ice. These little monsters. These unspeakable things that I am forced to teach. Their grey, otherworldly appearance, those ghostly cloying voices, and those relentless, unyielding stares. My brow is slick with sweat, my hair soaked. My heart is beating out of control. Do they know? Can they hear it? A knock at the door. A head pokes around. The Geography teacher from the class next door, I don’t remember his name, but he supports Man United. He’s saying something, but my ears won’t focus on the words. God, he looks awful. Pale and sallow, like the life and passion has been sucked right out of him. He looks afraid to go back, or to come too far inside. I’m not alone. But what does it help? Both of us are powerless against these little fiends. He’s finished talking, and I gather he’s asked something. I nod, and that seems to be enough. He looks disappointed, heading back to his own personal hell. As he goes, I can see them drinking his soul. Small, smoke-like wisps, trailing back through the doorway. Then the door closes, their links break, and their attention is back on me. They are stealing my soul away. ‘Sir?’ one of them says. The world shifts. Gone are the greyscale waifs. Gone are the soulless eyes and the ravenous mouths. They are children. Just children. Their exercise books open, pens lying idly by as they chatter innocently. The one with the spiky hair, on the front row, looks at me concerned. He asks, ‘Are you alright sir? You don’t look well…’ For a moment I doubt. Could I be wrong? But no. The illusion slips, and the cold, terrible reality of those things crashes back. That’s all it ever was, an illusion. But I can’t escape. They’re still looking at me. They never stopped. Leeches, draining away my lifeforce, those smoky strands running out of me, to them. My own life, ebbing away. I open the drawer, to distract myself. The usual clutter. The next one is empty. The third has a broken mug, two confiscated phones, a small plastic bag of white powder- MCAT probably- and a flick knife. It feels cold and heavy. I should have reported it when I confiscated it. I still could. The walk to the headmaster’s office would be a relief. But only temporarily. I’d have to come back after. I look up. They’re still there. They won’t go. They won’t stop staring, and feeding. Oh, those vacant and hungry faces. I need a more permanent solution. My hand tightens on the flick knife. Rid the world of these wraiths. Permanently. I have to stop the staring.
[Copied and pasted from my external blog. Please do take a look. I'm trying to update regularly, every few days or so] I’m currently writing a short story. That’s not altogether unusual. It’s a science-fiction story. Again, nothing strange there. The basic plot of this story revolves around a giant cloud of volcanic ash, hanging over Britain, and causing a general headache for everyone. Hang on, that sounds awfully familiar. Yes, once more I have taken my inspiration from the news. Usually I scour the small stories of the newspaper and news websites looking for the odd, quirky stories that make me think “Hmmm, that could make good fiction”. This one isn’t a small piece of news though. In fact, it’s a rather large piece of news that has been hanging over northern Europe for a week or so, causing a lot of people to get very upset at the fact that they’re stranded in France. And as reasons for being upset go, that one’s- (NO! Bad Matt! Xenophobic jokes are bad!) But yeah. Basically, I thought the story through, using the bizarre process of my brain, and decided that the raw product idea that came out of the other end was worth a go. So I’m writing it. And I think it’s not too bad. But what I wanted to do in this blog, was ask why? Why am I writing about something that is in the news at the moment? Ashleigh joked that it was cheating. Will I be able to sell it better because it’s on peoples’ minds at the moment? I think that’s part of my motivation, certainly. It’s definitely one of the reasons that it’s been bumped to the top of my ideas list, along with the facts that it’s fun to write about, and I don’t even have to expend any effort doing research. I just press the little BBC news bookmark at the top of my browser, and voila! I’m inundated with bloody ash clouds (and election news, which is probably why there’s a political angle to the story). But if I am writing it because it will be easy to sell, why? Will it even actually be any easier to sell? Given that if I do manage to sell it, it probably won’t see print for a few months at least, by which time it will be over(ish), and everyone will have more important things to panic over. Or alternatively, my story could come true, and we’ll all be ****ed, and no one will care about the story, because they’re too busy trying not to die. But it’s undeniable that people’s interest does follow trends. How else do you explain the sudden population boom in crappy Twilight clones (which have now been quarantined in Waterstones from the horror section[Huzzah!], into Paranormal Romance, which I can only hope is the first step to some sort of extermination program)? So if it follows that because there is an ash cloud, people will flock towards anything with an “ash cloud” label on it at the moment, then won’t that date my story? Maybe, but I’m not so sure. The whole point of science fiction is, in my opinion, to offer analogous comment on the social situation of humanity. And also to entertain. So basically, if it still provokes thought, and gets the same message across, after the ash cloud has (hopefully) given way for some new apocalyptic news story, then it might not find itself time-locked (to borrow and misuse a phrase from Doctor Who). A cloud of volcanic ash is a rare occurence, yes, but hardly unique. Given that looking out of my window I can see only blue sky (and have been able to for the entire duration), and that only a hundred years ago the skies were comparatively empty of metal tubes with engines attached, as far as the lay person (myself included, here) knows, this could have happened every hundred years or so, and only previously left the birds stranded in France. So after all that, I have no idea whether the current events angle will help my story. I’m not entirely bothered. All I care about is the fact that a potentially good story has landed in my lap. Now I just need to finish writing it, and not balls it up.
[Copied and pasted from my external blog. Please do take a look. I'm trying to update regularly, every few days or so] The immediate answer to this is obvious: because a vote for the Lib Dems is a vote not for the Tories. But I promised myself (and now am promising you) that this won’t be an anti-Conservative rant. I’ve done enough of that in the nineteen-and-a-half years I’ve been on this earth, and will no doubt do a hell of a lot more before 6th May. No, this is about something else. For those of you not familiar with British politics, allow me to do a quick background filler: The Liberal Democrats are the third party in Westminster. They have consistently in the last half-century been a weakened, ineffective force, and the but of many a political satirist’s joke. Their politics are middle ground, slightly left-leaning, and they are usually seen as the safe, protest vote against Labour or Conservatives. I don’t have a clue when was the last time they were serious contenders in an election. Except no. That’s not quite accurate any more. Over the weekend, the Lib Dems and their leader, inoffensive Cameron-a-like Nick Clegg, climbed to dizzying heights in the polls, and overtook the Tories. This really was breaking new ground. Since before the announcement of this election, the Lib Dems were touted as the kingmakers of any potential coalition government, being able to choose who would govern the country. But at no point would anyone have pegged them as being up their competing with Labour and the Conservatives. It’s a glorious blow to the Tories hopes’ of victory, and to David Cameron’s “patriotic duty” to become the next Prime Minister, and I have been loving every moment of it. Of course, it probably won’t last. Already the Tories are regaining the lead, and whether the Lib Dems will stay in the same kind of contention in two and a half weeks time is anyone’s guess. But what’s really worth commenting on is precisely how this came about. And say what you like about votes disenfranchised with the two major parties, or people liking their policies. That no doubt does contribute. But the real poll-swinger was the first ever televised party leaders’ debate. It was last thursday, on ITV, and took place on a set that looked like it had been borrowed from a cheap daytime gameshow presented by some washed up comedian or actor. Or Noel Edmonds. This was a historic occurring, the first time that any such debate had taken place. In the past, opposition leaders have frequently challenged the incumbent to televised debates, with the incumbent usually refusing on grounds that the election should be decided on policy, not personality. Personally, I agree with this argument, and wasn’t looking forward to the whole palaver, expecting a smarmy display of PR from Cameron, a lot of embarrassing blustering from Brown, and pretty much nothing from Clegg. I think everyone else was expecting the same. But I was wrong. David Cameron looked like a Madame Tussauds wax model (except for one memorable moment where he looked like a haunted Madame Tussauds wax model), Gordon Brown seemed relaxed and at ease, even cracking jokes, and Nick Clegg came across as the reasonable everyman. Personally I thought that Brown came out the best, but apparently the British public disagree with me, and I suspect that it’s because they have never seen or heard anything from Clegg before. The Lib Dems have been in the background so long, as British politics marches on towards a US-style bipartisan system, that everyone had forgotten they exist. Now they have gotten themselves noticed, and although their surge in support may just be a novelty, and may not last, it will hopefully last long enough to cause some bloody change when the election results come in. They won’t win, I’m not deluded enough to think that. But when the hung parliament is a reality, they will be major players in a coalition, rather than just the quiet kid picked at football to make up numbers. Frankly, any move away from a two-party system is a good thing (well, not if the third party were the BNP or UKIP, obviously). Bipartisanism leads to extremes. Two parties that are polar opposites of each other, with no happy medium. The Lib Dems, no matter what you might think of their policies (and believe me, they have some which I myself think they can go shove where the sun doesn’t shine), are that happy medium. And the irony of it is that this move away from a US-style bipartisanism, came out of a US-style televised political debate. Brilliant!
I realise this is a string of good reviews, but I'm not kidding when I say this is my tip for film of the year. It was nothing short of brilliant, from start to finish. To begin , the concept was fantastic. Aliens not as superior beings, but as almost refugees. To the best of my knowledge, there hasn't been a present-day use of such an idea before. And the choice of location (Johannesburg) was perfect. As a sociological metaphor it may be a little blunt, but the similarities between alien segregation and the apartheid which was so brutal in South Africa makes it all the more potent. The intro and outro of the film as extracts from a documentary is not a new concept, but it has been used before to great effect, and is done so again here. It introduces the situation without feeling utterly contrived, and the hints it gives as to the ending of the film are tantalising, but do not destroy suspense. It also seems completely realistic. Humanity is not a tolerant race, and the all-accepting humanity depicted in Star Trek, etc, is centuries away if not complete fiction. If there was an arrival of aliens on this planet, then they would have to do us huge favours in regards to technological advances for us to even consider accepting them. An unpalatable conclusion, yes, but I fear it's true, and this film capitalises on that. It is at times very uncomfortable, primarily because it rings so true. The MNU's treatment of the "Prawns" is so similar to the treatment suffered at various points in history by black people/Jews/native Americans/black South Africans and countless other peoples deemed "different". It is also horrific, and undeniably wrong. As a main character Wikus is perfect for the story. He is, at the beginning, just as guilty of the racism as anyone else, and possibly worse because he thinks he isn't. He is also a weak, and yet fundametally good person. He is realistic as a person intimidated by those overbearing individuals (his father-in-law/boss, and the military commander of the MNU forces) around him. When he is contaminated with the alien "fluid", and he begins to change, the reaction of the MNU is consistent with the most paranoid conspiracy story- complete disregard for him as well as the prawns, int he pursuit of advanced technology and the profits it would bring. Conversely, the "barbarity" of the prawns is portrayed as being because of a mixture of cultural-difference, their treatment by the humans, and their being the "worker class" of their people. The film states that before they were brought to district 9, they had been trapped aboard their ship for months, making clear that they had known nothing but incarceration for a long time. The character of "Christopher Johnson" (a good play, in giving the alien a human name, to humanise him, and conversely dehumanise the MNU, to an even greater degree) was everything a hero should be. His only concern, to begin with, is to get himself and his son home. But by the end, he has seen the experiments that humanity has been doing on his people, and wants nothing more than to save them. The selflessness of an alien seems profoundly more human to the audience than the self-centred lack of empathy by its human characters. But aside from the sociological metaphors, it is a bloody good film. The prawns are brilliantly animated, and the sight of the huge spaceship in all of the wide-angle shots in Johannesburg is a triumph of CGI as a tool of the filmmaker rather than simply the star of the film, as well as a constant reminder of the aliens' presence. In particular the battle in District 9 between Wikus and Christopher, the MNU and the Nigerian criminals, is spectacularly choreographed, with my particular favourite moment being when Wikus- in an alien battle suit- catches an RPG to allow Christopher the time to reach the mothership. And that's the thing about this film. It checks all boxes. It has the deep and intellectual aspect of the sociological anagolies, it has the action of the chases and gunfights, and it even has the tragically pathetic romance between Wikus and his wife. And it's an incredibly well made film. The whole thing fits perfectly together. The only jarring moments I encountered were that Wikus seems to revert to a scouse accent when he swears, and that the MNU colonel looks disconcertingly like Bruce Willis. But overall, the setting in South Africa was the thing I liked most. It wasn't in America, which is very refreshing. I counted one, maybe two, American accents in the whole thing, amid an abundance of South African accents. It was fresh, it was different, it tried something new. And it pulled it off. If you haven't seen this, go and see it. Now. Do it!
Very impressed. It pissed me off a little with some of the early camera shots. I get they were trying to show Kable's confusion, and the chaos of the Slayers game, but it just left me disorientated, headachey, and less inclined to respond favourably to the rest of it. Conversely, I didn't mind it as much when it was demonstrating Kable's inebriation (which, really, was the point for me which tipped it from ordinary action sci-fi, to actually pretty damn good action sci-fi). The intelligence driving the plot was sharp-minded, and whilst the science might not have been perfect (as brilliant a move as it might have been, I'm a little uncertain whether a semi-digested bottle of vodka could power an ethanol-engine car as far as it did), it wasn't jarringly wrong. So it was a good job that the rest was up to scratch. It was gritty and real in a way reminiscent of RDM's Battlestar Galactica reinvention, and seemed to follow in the cyberpunk of films like Blade Runner, Johnny Mnemonic, and (more recently) The Matrix. The sleek hi-tech veneer, such as Simon's holographic, 360-degree computer interface, was shown as the glossy paint over the gritty wall beneath that was the dirty world on the ground. And Castle's brick-covered-in-woodchip-wallpaper home was odd in the true tradition of cyberpunk sci-fi. The social critique element comes across rather scathingly for gamers, particularly (to me) the "Society" game. I think it's sadly amusing (and true) that whenever people are given absolute freedom in a Sims-esque situation, it all turns to violence and sex... (point in fact, the fact that it seemed to be used as a sex similator for the most part, and the collective baying for blood when the soldiers opened fire in the rave-hall). And that's not even mentioning the moral ramifications of Slayers. Frankly, I think it's realistic. If there was such a game, I don't doubt there would be hordes of hardcore gamers who would pay almost any price to play a "real" FPS. Whilst I'm not sure that legal authorities are anywhere near the acceptance that Gamer, I feel fairly sure that society's acceptance of it would be as portrayed. Which is a little worrying, to say the least... The ending was good, but the very last part did raise questions. It seemed a little odd that Castle's minions would respond so nonchalantly to his death, and would require only a request from Kable to turn off the whole mind control malarkey. If it was so unimportant to them, then wouldn't they do it automatically? It's a minor quibble, but the ending is one of the worst places for even a minor one. Still, a great film, and I do wish that Gerard Butler would stick to films like this (which he is a natural at, a true born action hero), rather than dallying in chick-flicks. Michael C Hall, despite playing a similar enough character to that he is famous for in Dexter, was brilliant, playing an engaging antagonist who doesn't particularly evoke much sympathy. He's creepy, but in a subtle way, and does that psychotic genius thing brilliantly, in a way reminiscent of Anthony Hopkins' Hannibal Lecter, which I haven't really seen the like of since. He even managed to slot, what was essentially, a music video into the film as a piece of surreal humour rather than something ridiculous and stupid.
I'm gonna start this off by saying that I've now seen this film twice. This could mean two things. Either it's incredibly good, or everything else at the cinema at the moment is incredibly bad. And the two aren't mutually exclusivee But actually, given the horror films that have been released recently, this was a great film. It was actually scary, rather than simply gory or just bemusing (see my Antichrist review). From the opening, it sets atmosphere brilliantly. The dream sequence (yes, I know) was coherent enough to be genuinely scary, and yet surreal enough to be passable as a dream. And that atmosphere is continued throughout the film. But the tension which is set up is diffused with deliberate anticlimax often enough to keep the audience guessing. Which brings me neatly to the plot. It's both at once simple and complex, with a frankly fantastic twist at the end. And having watched it twice, I can say that the continuity is great too. Everything makes sense in relation to the revelation at the end, even if it does seem a bit of stretch if you dwell on it too long. But the best part of the film is the character of Esther. The adopted little girl is creepy beyond belief, and is who Samara (of The Ring fame) wishes she was. The twelve-year-old actress plays her with such confidence, and such a brooding sense of menace, that she is utterly terrifying at times- manipulating those around her with seemingly no conscience. However, there were a couple of things that I raised my eyebrow at. Firstly, the ultraviolet paint. A great touch, which was admittedly brilliant atmospherically speaking. However, it does raise the question as to where she got it from, given that all of her arts supplies were supplied by the foster parents. The other thing I wondered at was the Terminator-like invincibility of little Esther. Particularly rising out of the lake, she did seem to be channeling Arnie, a little. But despite those minor complaints, it was a great film, and the best horror I've seen at the cinema since The Haunting in Connecticut. I highly recommend it, though perhaps not if you're intending to adopt any time soon... EDIT: I forgot to mention, the film does have an annoying tendancy to plug Apple, like there's no tomorrow (i.e. iphones, macbooks, phantom Apple logos)
Okay, let me first make one thing clear. This is not the kind of film I would have chosen to go and see. I went because I had free tickets. It proudly advertises itself as "the most controversial film of the year", and has a warning for "real sex, violence and self-mutilation", and in that sense it doesn't disappoint. However, my experience with controversial films is that they usually try too hard to be shocking, and lose out as a result. (See Bruno for evidence of this; true the film was quite good, but the focus on controversy made it, in my opinion, nowhere near as good as Borat) My main problem with Antichrist, is that it doesn't know what it wants to be. It has a black-and-white "prologue" (it's classification, not mine), which seems to be a combination of artsy and pornographic. The operatic music seems to be intended to give a feel of art-for-art's-sake, whereas the only real purpose I can see for the graphic sex scene it accompanies is to shock, and to set up the running theme of fairly explicit sex throughout the film. This, naturally, is cut with scenes of the couple's child. Here is where the problems begin, but by no means where they end. The plot is simplistic enough- grieving couple trying to get over the death of their son go to remote cabin in the woods to attempt to do so. Or do they? At some point prior to them actually leaving, the script writer seems to have decided that actually what's happening is that the wife has some sort of grass phobia (I wish I was kidding), and that's why they go to the cabin. He failed to rectify the earlier portions of the script however, so what we are left with is a chimera of far less impressive proportions than the Greek version- think half-pig half-donkey, rather than half-lion half-eagle. So the plot falls and breaks it's neck at the first hurdle. Only to carry stumblingly on, to repeat the feat at each following one. For example, the bizarre and nonsensicle introduction of witchcraft, the sudden violent deathmatch, and the talking fox! I read somewhere that the director wrote it whilst grappling with mental illness, and whilst not meaning to be offensive to anyone, it definitely shows. It doesn't make the slightest bit of sense, and any time you think you might have it figured, it slaps you around the face with more nonsense. And it keeps trying to build up an atmosphere of horror and fearful anticipation, and doesn't do a bad job in places. It's just that it doesn't go anywhere. There are no climactic moments (except the few bits of extreme gore-for-no-better-reason-than-it-can), and the atmosphere is left to fizzle out. In fact, even the gore seems to come out of nowhere most of the time, without even any atmosphere to support it. At least the Saw films set good atmosphere for their unnecessary gore-fests. Then there's the sex. Okay, sex as a coping mechanism for grief I can kind of get. But as has already been mentioned, the whole grief aspect is almost completely abandoned by the time they get to the cabin, so that line of reasoning doesn't really work. Instead what we have is more attempts to be "shocking", by having the two lead (and really, the only) characters bone each other whenever the audience starts to get bored (or figure out an iota of what's going on). It was confused. It was messy. It wasn't entertaining, and even the shock-factor didn't liven it up. It didn't know what it wanted to be, so tried to be everything and failed. It could have worked well as a gritty and realistic portrayal of a parent's grief at the loss of a child. Or it could have worked as a supernatural horror about witchcraft. (I'm not going to say it could have worked as a film about a woman afraid of grass, because that part was frankly just horse****). Maybe it would work as a misogynism propaganda film, I don't know since that part disgusted me more than the gore- but hey, if you hate women maybe it's for you. There are no doubt people who will love this film. People who will say it is artistic, pushes the boundaries, and that it is brilliant. But my general principle is that I should not leave a film knowing less about what it's about than when I arrived. I think I said to Ashleigh when we left that I wanted an explanation and a personal apology from the director, but on second thought I just want to go to bed. This **** made as much sense as an acid trip, and left me with a headache to match. (In case anyone is in any doubt, I don't recommend this film to anyone but the misogynists, over-the-top gore fans, and pretentious "art"-loving morons amongst you)
If you're a forum regular, you'll already know all about this. Apologies for the tirade of sickly sweet emotion which I'm about to describe, but it has to be done. Just before christmas, I met a girl, who actually did change my life. She was amazing, and talking to her made me so happy, it was inevitable I would fall for her. What I didn't anticipate was her falling in love with me. It has been one month and fourteen days since I asked her out, and I'm not exaggerating when I say I've never been happier. I'm at uni, miles away from her, so I can only see her at weekends, but I've seen her every weekend since then, and every moment with her has been perfect. She makes me so happy. She's the most wonderful, sweet, loving girl I've ever encountered, and she's beautiful, funny, sexy, and very smart. She's my idea of perfection. We spend hours on the phone to each other each night, and when we aren't on the phone, we're talking on MSN, or by text. Even our arguments are punctuated every two minutes by "I love you". I've genuinely never felt anything like this, and am so completely besotted with my beautiful angel. And I'm so excited that she's coming to visit me for a week. It's going to be heaven. I'm away at a wedding on valentines day, so we have to wait til monday to celebrate, but I'm determined to make it the most amazing day ever. I love her so much.
Very soon it will all be over... Obama will be inaugurated, and we can all **** off back to our lives. I know this blog isn't going to go down well, given that Obama is currently more popular than God, but I'm really getting annoyed with this. I have nothing against Obama, don't get me wrong. I think it's wonderful that he's been elected, and great for America that they've taken the step of electing their first African-American president, but he's not my president, why does this all have to be rammed down my throat? Yesterday I was watching BBC news, because the government were making drastic announcements about bank bailouts. Very important stuff. Yet whilst this was being debated in the commons, the BBC in their infinite wisdom treated us all to Obama painting a wall. A ****ing wall! I don't live in the US, and whilst I know US policy will impact me, I don't see why this crap should outweigh the domestic politics and policies of my own country? It's bloody ridiculous, and it's been going on for over a year now. Like I said, I have nothing against Obama, but I have everything against blind hero worship. Maybe he is the second coming of Christ, but until there's some kind of evidence to support that, can we not keep to some kind of normality and sanity? Roll on the inauguration so we can all go home...