Not for those of a squeamish or sensitive disposition, The Impossible spends most of its running time alternating between brutal depictions of emergency medicine and heart wrenching family splits or reunions.
Based on the true story of a Spanish family in the aftermath of the 2004 Asian Tsunami, this film, set in Thailand, instead depicts a British family suffering the same fate and it is unsparing in its take on the damage of a colossal natural disaster.
Naomi Watts plays the Mother, Maria, who finds herself split from the rest of her family with the exception of her eldest son, Lucas. After the Tsunami hits, she is badly injured. The film then largely follows her quest for medical assistance in the chaotic days following the wave.
Meanwhile, Ewan McGregor's Henry (the father) managed to keep hold of the two younger boys and get them to safety. He spends his time thereafter looking for a place to give them shelter. Once this is achieved, he sets off in search of his missing wife and eldest son.
Lucas (played with panache by Tom Holland) is a boy filled with decent intentions. Once his mother is taken to hospital, he attempts to reunite as many families as he is capable of when the overstretched hospital staff do not have time to do so. It is the first of many attempts by the film to establish a sentimental subtext.
In the background to all this is a strange, European dominated take on the Tsunami. Whilst many of the people who assist the family are of Thai origin, what becomes of the local victims of the disaster is somewhat skated over. I can therefore understand why some other reviews have pointed out that this may be evidence of a slight Colonial bias.
However, even though it is told from the perspective of a Westerner, the film persistently covers the point that the family recognise the advantages they have and how they were briefly stripped from them by a freak event. It did not seem overly patronising to those who lived with the aftermath.
The Impossible's greatest weakness is that it makes too much of its moments of hope as tone of the film veers towards saccharine sweetness, not that it is not a moving and interesting tale but it weighs in too heavily with the emotional hits for comfort.
Nonetheless, the action scenes are well balanced and the acting is for the most part impressive and despite some fairly redundant arty moments, Bayona largely does the script justice.
A non-fiction tale that is well told but that has been given too much of a Hollywood veneer to be as watchable as it might have been.
Tuesday, 8 January 2013
Sunday, 6 January 2013
'Zoolander' dir. Ben Stiller
The fashionistas are out in full cry for this film, which takes a sideswipe at their world. Ben Stiller eagerly pokes fun at the industry, with his usual crew of Owen Wilson, Christine Taylor and Will Ferrell in tow.
Mawkish, self-obsessed male model Derek Zoolander (Stiller) is a man on a mission, not that he realises it yet. He is too busy perfecting his latest 'look'. The premise of the slightly redundant plot is that male models, who are easily manipulated and in peak physical condition, make ideal political assassins.
A particularly ruthless designer known as Jacobim Mugatu (Ferrell) aims to use Zoolander to assassinate the Malaysian Prime Minister, who has recently made some new laws which have upset the profit margins of Mugatu's company.
Whilst it seems that Stiller is taking a stab at a political point, namely the immorality of sweatshop labour for high fashion, most of the film is a ludicrous, slightly camp comedy about the odd, odd world of Derek Zoolander. His rivalry with Hansel (Owen Wilson) takes centre stage in a face off between characters who do not seem to share a single brain cell between them.
This rivalry leads them to a 'walk-off' in which the models pose with the intention of getting David Bowie to decide in their favour. This is the first of many cameos which become increasingly nonsensical as the scenes rattle along, a habit which Ben Stiller has never really grown out of. It becomes increasingly jarring in the latter stages when it seems some of the plot holes are covered by a game of 'who's this?'
Nevertheless, Christine Taylor offers welcome relief from some of the high jinks with a turn as journalist Matilda Jeffries but she seems a bit underused and her story comes to a particularly predictable end.
There is a lot of fun in this one and it is an easy watch. It set the mould for Dodgeball and many other Stiller comedies. Yet, despite its initial derision for physical beauty at the expense of character, it ultimately celebrates the world of Derek Zoolander in all its pretentious glory.
Despite a slightly tepid ending, Zoolander offers a solid evening of entertainment with a few belly laughs along the way.
Mawkish, self-obsessed male model Derek Zoolander (Stiller) is a man on a mission, not that he realises it yet. He is too busy perfecting his latest 'look'. The premise of the slightly redundant plot is that male models, who are easily manipulated and in peak physical condition, make ideal political assassins.
A particularly ruthless designer known as Jacobim Mugatu (Ferrell) aims to use Zoolander to assassinate the Malaysian Prime Minister, who has recently made some new laws which have upset the profit margins of Mugatu's company.
Whilst it seems that Stiller is taking a stab at a political point, namely the immorality of sweatshop labour for high fashion, most of the film is a ludicrous, slightly camp comedy about the odd, odd world of Derek Zoolander. His rivalry with Hansel (Owen Wilson) takes centre stage in a face off between characters who do not seem to share a single brain cell between them.
This rivalry leads them to a 'walk-off' in which the models pose with the intention of getting David Bowie to decide in their favour. This is the first of many cameos which become increasingly nonsensical as the scenes rattle along, a habit which Ben Stiller has never really grown out of. It becomes increasingly jarring in the latter stages when it seems some of the plot holes are covered by a game of 'who's this?'
Nevertheless, Christine Taylor offers welcome relief from some of the high jinks with a turn as journalist Matilda Jeffries but she seems a bit underused and her story comes to a particularly predictable end.
There is a lot of fun in this one and it is an easy watch. It set the mould for Dodgeball and many other Stiller comedies. Yet, despite its initial derision for physical beauty at the expense of character, it ultimately celebrates the world of Derek Zoolander in all its pretentious glory.
Despite a slightly tepid ending, Zoolander offers a solid evening of entertainment with a few belly laughs along the way.
Sunday, 30 December 2012
'Round Ireland with a Fridge' by Tony Hawks
Why take a fridge hitch-hiking around Ireland?
Well, Tony Hawks' approach is best summed up by the question why not? Although, it may be fair to spectulate that a £100 drunken bet with a friend may also have played a small part in his motivations.
The account of his journey in 1997 is populated by a cast of Irish eccentrics who seem to have walked off the set of Father Ted and into non-fiction. Indeed, he introduces us to the hierarchy of the many, many Irish pubs he visits including, but not limited to the 'lead drunk'.
As often as not in this book, Tony Hawks himself seems to be making a bid for that title. Indeed, the story is for the most part a collection of barely remembered evenings from a bloke carrying a fridge.
Hawks takes occasional brief but interesting diversions into whether the fridge itself has gained a personality as the result of its travels. Indeed, he christens it 'Saoirse' - the Irish Gaelic word for 'freedom' - somewhat appropriate given that the fridge gives Hawks a certain freedom through the popularity it lends him.
This is helped to a large extent by the helpfulness of the Irish media, who track every step of his journey, doubtless making it easier on a hitch-hiker standing at the side of the road with only a fridge for company.
Throughout this long, seemingly pointless quest, Hawks never loses his easy affability or sense of joy, despite standing in rainstorms which would test the hardiest souls.
His journey, as he admits, taught him very little and he concedes that it did not achieve anything.
Nor did it have to. The story instead serves as a reminder of the importance of pointless endeavours and the never-ending supply of indulgence for such journeys on both sides of the Irish Sea.
Well, Tony Hawks' approach is best summed up by the question why not? Although, it may be fair to spectulate that a £100 drunken bet with a friend may also have played a small part in his motivations.
The account of his journey in 1997 is populated by a cast of Irish eccentrics who seem to have walked off the set of Father Ted and into non-fiction. Indeed, he introduces us to the hierarchy of the many, many Irish pubs he visits including, but not limited to the 'lead drunk'.
As often as not in this book, Tony Hawks himself seems to be making a bid for that title. Indeed, the story is for the most part a collection of barely remembered evenings from a bloke carrying a fridge.
Hawks takes occasional brief but interesting diversions into whether the fridge itself has gained a personality as the result of its travels. Indeed, he christens it 'Saoirse' - the Irish Gaelic word for 'freedom' - somewhat appropriate given that the fridge gives Hawks a certain freedom through the popularity it lends him.
This is helped to a large extent by the helpfulness of the Irish media, who track every step of his journey, doubtless making it easier on a hitch-hiker standing at the side of the road with only a fridge for company.
Throughout this long, seemingly pointless quest, Hawks never loses his easy affability or sense of joy, despite standing in rainstorms which would test the hardiest souls.
His journey, as he admits, taught him very little and he concedes that it did not achieve anything.
Nor did it have to. The story instead serves as a reminder of the importance of pointless endeavours and the never-ending supply of indulgence for such journeys on both sides of the Irish Sea.
Tuesday, 25 December 2012
'Life of Pi' by Yann Martel (book)
Surrealist and beyond the classification of genre, Life of Pi is a fable (there you go, I tried) that deserves to be read and re-read.
Set initially in Pondicherry, the former French enclave on the east coast of India, our narrator and protagonist is a teenage boy named Piscine Molitor Patel. This name is the cue for many jokes from his school mates of predictable content - he gains the nickname 'Pissing' amongst others.
In an attempt to confound them, he shortens it to Pi, the number that supposedly holds the key to many unresolved questions of the universe. Indeed, the first third of the book largely consists of Pi exploring both religious and atheist philosophies, as if the name were a tag to live up to.
Simultaneously, he faces physical challenges of his own from his stubborn father, a zookeeper, who insists that Pi learn from the animals he keeps about the ruthlessness of survival of the fittest.
This knowledge soon becomes extremely relevant when Pi's father decides to move the family to Canada. All seems set fair on their journey by sea until an accident leaves Pi shipwrecked and seemingly alone.
It is at this point that the tale becomes one of the battle between a young man's de-hydrated and starved logical mind and his overactive imagination. Given the aforementioned surrealism of the novel and that he spends most of his time on the lifeboat in the company of a Bengal tiger, it is fairly easy to guess which of these wins.
In amongst the wreckage, both literal and metaphorical, of Pi's previous life are fragments of hope and courage. Even upon arrival at a mysterious tropical island, which seems to offer a safe haven, Pi remains an unselfish and sympathetic character.
Yet, Life of Pi remains open in its exploration of the darker aspects of basic survival. Despite asking much of Pi, he, and ultimately us as the readers are left with as many questions as answers at the end of the book.
Whilst this is frustrating, it also offers space for further exploration. At times I felt that Life of Pi was a bit too pleased with itself but for the most part it is an intriguing story and remarkably readable given the size of its ideas.
It is also one of the few Booker Prize winning novels that is not completely impenetrable. I now look forward to seeing if Ang Lee's film adaptation lives up to its source material.
PS: Merry Christmas to one and all!
Set initially in Pondicherry, the former French enclave on the east coast of India, our narrator and protagonist is a teenage boy named Piscine Molitor Patel. This name is the cue for many jokes from his school mates of predictable content - he gains the nickname 'Pissing' amongst others.
In an attempt to confound them, he shortens it to Pi, the number that supposedly holds the key to many unresolved questions of the universe. Indeed, the first third of the book largely consists of Pi exploring both religious and atheist philosophies, as if the name were a tag to live up to.
Simultaneously, he faces physical challenges of his own from his stubborn father, a zookeeper, who insists that Pi learn from the animals he keeps about the ruthlessness of survival of the fittest.
This knowledge soon becomes extremely relevant when Pi's father decides to move the family to Canada. All seems set fair on their journey by sea until an accident leaves Pi shipwrecked and seemingly alone.
It is at this point that the tale becomes one of the battle between a young man's de-hydrated and starved logical mind and his overactive imagination. Given the aforementioned surrealism of the novel and that he spends most of his time on the lifeboat in the company of a Bengal tiger, it is fairly easy to guess which of these wins.
In amongst the wreckage, both literal and metaphorical, of Pi's previous life are fragments of hope and courage. Even upon arrival at a mysterious tropical island, which seems to offer a safe haven, Pi remains an unselfish and sympathetic character.
Yet, Life of Pi remains open in its exploration of the darker aspects of basic survival. Despite asking much of Pi, he, and ultimately us as the readers are left with as many questions as answers at the end of the book.
Whilst this is frustrating, it also offers space for further exploration. At times I felt that Life of Pi was a bit too pleased with itself but for the most part it is an intriguing story and remarkably readable given the size of its ideas.
It is also one of the few Booker Prize winning novels that is not completely impenetrable. I now look forward to seeing if Ang Lee's film adaptation lives up to its source material.
PS: Merry Christmas to one and all!
Monday, 24 December 2012
'The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey' dir. Peter Jackson
Ok, so here were my concerns before seeing the first part of this new trilogy:-
1. The Hobbit is not a very long book - only just over 250 pages so how was Peter Jackson going to spread that story across three separate films?
2. Nor is it a sprawling epic in the manner of Lord of The Rings. It is much more of a straighforward narrative of Bilbo Baggins and his adventures.
3. Would any of the content of the book (including vast quantities of drinking, eating and getting lost in the woods) really translate to a Jacksonian three hour epic? Let alone three of them.
Having seen An Unexpected Journey, I am not convinced that any of those issues are resolved.
The film is nonetheless a fun romp through Middle Earth which includes almost the entire British acting profession in its cast. The first among equals is Ian McKellen, who makes a welcome return as Gandalf and, as always, the scenes in which he shouts spells at nasty creatures are particular high points.
Martin Freeman is unsurprisingly excellent as Bilbo, channeling all his knowledge of Tim Canterbury, Arthur Dent and John Watson to the part of the supposed everyman. His homely, awkward manner at the start is soon replaced by an inner toughness that even he was not aware of until the Dwarves dragged him away from The Shire.
Ken Stott, Richard Armitage and James Nesbitt are among the dwarves who ham it up to eleven. Their shared quest is to retrieve their lost kingdom from the dragon Smaug. The fact that Smaug barely even appears in the film is indicative of how much they have stretched the story of the book - perhaps the CGI budget was looking a bit thin.
Appearances from Ian Holm (as the elder Bilbo, narrating), Elijah Wood (the evergreen Frodo), Hugo Weaving (Elrond), Christopher Lee (Saruman), Cate Blanchett (Galadriel) and Andy Serkis (Gollum) all feel a little shoehorned in. Much of one of the more interesting scenes in Rivendell is a discussion between Elrond, Gandalf, Galadriel and Saruman about 'dark portents' and 'the presence of a new evil'. Wonder what that could refer to?
Nevertheless, the atmosphere of the vast majority of the film is entirely different from Lord of The Rings. It is a lighter, more comic tone, in keeping with the book in that respect. The scale feels that much smaller and the characters that much less concerned with the outcome of their quest. Much time is spent drinking, smoking or feasting.
For this reason, some of the scenes seem a little dragged out. Especially one shared by Bilbo and Gollum that seems a bit early in the trilogy for its purpose. Serkis nonetheless manages to convey the usual sense of unease and threat in his performance.
There are some very enthralling and fun sequences in the film but I left the cinema no more convinced that the book has sufficient material to be stretched over three films. It felt altogether looser than Lord of The Rings and whilst this was entertaining at times, it lacked the same intensity.
Worth a look but too spun out for my liking.
1. The Hobbit is not a very long book - only just over 250 pages so how was Peter Jackson going to spread that story across three separate films?
2. Nor is it a sprawling epic in the manner of Lord of The Rings. It is much more of a straighforward narrative of Bilbo Baggins and his adventures.
3. Would any of the content of the book (including vast quantities of drinking, eating and getting lost in the woods) really translate to a Jacksonian three hour epic? Let alone three of them.
Having seen An Unexpected Journey, I am not convinced that any of those issues are resolved.
The film is nonetheless a fun romp through Middle Earth which includes almost the entire British acting profession in its cast. The first among equals is Ian McKellen, who makes a welcome return as Gandalf and, as always, the scenes in which he shouts spells at nasty creatures are particular high points.
Martin Freeman is unsurprisingly excellent as Bilbo, channeling all his knowledge of Tim Canterbury, Arthur Dent and John Watson to the part of the supposed everyman. His homely, awkward manner at the start is soon replaced by an inner toughness that even he was not aware of until the Dwarves dragged him away from The Shire.
Ken Stott, Richard Armitage and James Nesbitt are among the dwarves who ham it up to eleven. Their shared quest is to retrieve their lost kingdom from the dragon Smaug. The fact that Smaug barely even appears in the film is indicative of how much they have stretched the story of the book - perhaps the CGI budget was looking a bit thin.
Appearances from Ian Holm (as the elder Bilbo, narrating), Elijah Wood (the evergreen Frodo), Hugo Weaving (Elrond), Christopher Lee (Saruman), Cate Blanchett (Galadriel) and Andy Serkis (Gollum) all feel a little shoehorned in. Much of one of the more interesting scenes in Rivendell is a discussion between Elrond, Gandalf, Galadriel and Saruman about 'dark portents' and 'the presence of a new evil'. Wonder what that could refer to?
Nevertheless, the atmosphere of the vast majority of the film is entirely different from Lord of The Rings. It is a lighter, more comic tone, in keeping with the book in that respect. The scale feels that much smaller and the characters that much less concerned with the outcome of their quest. Much time is spent drinking, smoking or feasting.
For this reason, some of the scenes seem a little dragged out. Especially one shared by Bilbo and Gollum that seems a bit early in the trilogy for its purpose. Serkis nonetheless manages to convey the usual sense of unease and threat in his performance.
There are some very enthralling and fun sequences in the film but I left the cinema no more convinced that the book has sufficient material to be stretched over three films. It felt altogether looser than Lord of The Rings and whilst this was entertaining at times, it lacked the same intensity.
Worth a look but too spun out for my liking.
Tuesday, 20 November 2012
'Playing the Moldovans at Tennis' by Tony Hawks
The likeable Tony Hawks as our guide through a tale so strange that it only seems to emerge through this particular sub-genre of travelogue.
He and his friend Arthur Smith bet during an England-Moldova football qualifier that Tony cannot meet and beat all of the Moldovan national football team at Tennis. Tony takes on the challenge such as it is and shortly finds himself, via a bizarre interlude with a Beatles tribute band, in Moldova attempting to commence his bet.
What follows is an account of Moldovan life often startling for its honesty and adherence to reality despite the way these harsh truths contrast with Hawks' own cheery positivity.
He finds a reserved, reluctant people, emerging from an era of totalitarian rule and at first, this is reflected in his lack of success at getting access to his chosen footballers.
Among the best of those he meets are his adoptive family, a young girl called Elena and her elder brother Adrian provide him with inspiration as he struggles to even play a few games of tennis. These difficulties in convincing the Moldovan authorities to allow him access to its footballers seems indicative of the corruption that is endemic in societies which struggle economically.
Despite these difficulties, the emerging theme is one of the decency of most of the people Tony encounters. One of his strengths as a writer is his ability to convey the best in people and to show that even beneath the masks we all wear as adults, most of us are able to be touched by the people that surround us.
As the book ends, in predictably hilarious circumstances, Tony shows that even in emerging from his bet, he is unchanged in his views about Moldova and the experiences he had there. His charity work since writing the book bears testament to the relationship he built with the place.
Time well spent I would say.
He and his friend Arthur Smith bet during an England-Moldova football qualifier that Tony cannot meet and beat all of the Moldovan national football team at Tennis. Tony takes on the challenge such as it is and shortly finds himself, via a bizarre interlude with a Beatles tribute band, in Moldova attempting to commence his bet.
What follows is an account of Moldovan life often startling for its honesty and adherence to reality despite the way these harsh truths contrast with Hawks' own cheery positivity.
He finds a reserved, reluctant people, emerging from an era of totalitarian rule and at first, this is reflected in his lack of success at getting access to his chosen footballers.
Among the best of those he meets are his adoptive family, a young girl called Elena and her elder brother Adrian provide him with inspiration as he struggles to even play a few games of tennis. These difficulties in convincing the Moldovan authorities to allow him access to its footballers seems indicative of the corruption that is endemic in societies which struggle economically.
Despite these difficulties, the emerging theme is one of the decency of most of the people Tony encounters. One of his strengths as a writer is his ability to convey the best in people and to show that even beneath the masks we all wear as adults, most of us are able to be touched by the people that surround us.
As the book ends, in predictably hilarious circumstances, Tony shows that even in emerging from his bet, he is unchanged in his views about Moldova and the experiences he had there. His charity work since writing the book bears testament to the relationship he built with the place.
Time well spent I would say.
Sunday, 11 November 2012
'Argo' dir. Ben Affleck
After a patchy early career ('Pearl Harbour' anyone?) and some lean years where he virtually disappeared from our screens, Ben Affleck is in the process of carving out a new niche for himself as an actor/director. In this well constructed action film, he does a very fine job of both.
Based on a true story, 'Argo' is the tale of how Tony Mendez (Affleck) of the CIA was given a brief to retrieve six US Embassy staff who escaped capture when their building was routed in Tehran in 1979. The method suggested to achieve this goal was unconventional to say the least.
The government comissioned Hollywood producer Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin) and make up artist John Chambers (John Goodman) to begin publicity for their their latest blockbuster - 'Argo' - a science fiction in the late 70's mould. The promotional work for this non-existent film was a ruse to get Mendez permission to enter Iran posing as a Canadian film maker.
Upon arrival, he informs the embassy staff that they must also pretend to be part of the 'Argo' film crew. They are given false Canadian passports and are told to learn their new identities inside out.
There is some understandable reluctance among the group to tell such a tall tale in the hope of escaping Iran but they soon recognise that there are few alternatives. A scene follows in which Affleck expertly ratchets up the tension as the Westerners face the full hostility of The Iranian Revolution in the main bazaar.
This is where the film is at its best as the chaos and mistrust of those fateful months is rendered in vivid detail. The embassy staff come to realise that they have litle control over their own fate in such an unpredictable place.
Back home in the US, the interested parties at the CIA, the White House and in Hollywood can only watch and wait as Mendez does his job. We are given glimpses of how those unfortunate enough not to escape the embassy were treated and how this was felt deeply among Americans.
Meanwhile, Mendez is characterised as a man with a strong sense of right and wrong but a chaotic personal life. The people he is helping to escape likewise seem like believable human beings - just as any of us would be they are terrified by the situation they find themselves in and just want to get home.
And this is the strongest aspect of the film - it's message about how good, intelligent people can overcome fear and mistrust if they work together, even under pressure of unimaginable magnitude.
The film also recognises that America's relationship with Iran at that time was characterised by morally grey double dealing as well as taking on the gritty subject of the violent chaos instigated by the Islamic Revolution, but it is always clear about the divide between those who do good and those that embrace such chaos.
Bizarrely, the non-existent science fiction film 'Argo' carries the same message in a camp, kitsch 70's way that appeals to various parties who are chasing Mendez and his fugitives. In one especially memorable scene, the would-be film crew give a copy of the story board to an interrogator to placate him.
Yet, despite these moments of intensity, a seam of humour runs throughout, recognising that people under such difficult circumstances have to keep laughing in order to get through. It is this that shows 'Argo' its best with its warm sense of humanity amidst harsh circumstances.
Based on a true story, 'Argo' is the tale of how Tony Mendez (Affleck) of the CIA was given a brief to retrieve six US Embassy staff who escaped capture when their building was routed in Tehran in 1979. The method suggested to achieve this goal was unconventional to say the least.
The government comissioned Hollywood producer Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin) and make up artist John Chambers (John Goodman) to begin publicity for their their latest blockbuster - 'Argo' - a science fiction in the late 70's mould. The promotional work for this non-existent film was a ruse to get Mendez permission to enter Iran posing as a Canadian film maker.
Upon arrival, he informs the embassy staff that they must also pretend to be part of the 'Argo' film crew. They are given false Canadian passports and are told to learn their new identities inside out.
There is some understandable reluctance among the group to tell such a tall tale in the hope of escaping Iran but they soon recognise that there are few alternatives. A scene follows in which Affleck expertly ratchets up the tension as the Westerners face the full hostility of The Iranian Revolution in the main bazaar.
This is where the film is at its best as the chaos and mistrust of those fateful months is rendered in vivid detail. The embassy staff come to realise that they have litle control over their own fate in such an unpredictable place.
Back home in the US, the interested parties at the CIA, the White House and in Hollywood can only watch and wait as Mendez does his job. We are given glimpses of how those unfortunate enough not to escape the embassy were treated and how this was felt deeply among Americans.
Meanwhile, Mendez is characterised as a man with a strong sense of right and wrong but a chaotic personal life. The people he is helping to escape likewise seem like believable human beings - just as any of us would be they are terrified by the situation they find themselves in and just want to get home.
And this is the strongest aspect of the film - it's message about how good, intelligent people can overcome fear and mistrust if they work together, even under pressure of unimaginable magnitude.
The film also recognises that America's relationship with Iran at that time was characterised by morally grey double dealing as well as taking on the gritty subject of the violent chaos instigated by the Islamic Revolution, but it is always clear about the divide between those who do good and those that embrace such chaos.
Bizarrely, the non-existent science fiction film 'Argo' carries the same message in a camp, kitsch 70's way that appeals to various parties who are chasing Mendez and his fugitives. In one especially memorable scene, the would-be film crew give a copy of the story board to an interrogator to placate him.
Yet, despite these moments of intensity, a seam of humour runs throughout, recognising that people under such difficult circumstances have to keep laughing in order to get through. It is this that shows 'Argo' its best with its warm sense of humanity amidst harsh circumstances.
Sunday, 4 November 2012
'The Perks of Being a Wallflower' dir. Stephen Chbosky
An inexplicable dread filled me when I entered the cinema to watch this one. It may have had something to do with the faux Indie premise or the prospect of an angsty teenage film but I have to say I was pleasantly surprised.
Logan Lerman is charming as the shy, socially awkward Charlie, the hero of the film who holds a deep unrequited love for Sam (Emma Watson). The story is about growing up and about the contradictions of our later teenage years as well as those mistakes that we all make in our initial romantic stumblings.
What follows is a tale of deep poignancy as Sam and Charlie feel they way around through one failed relationship to another, never quite crossing one another at the right time. What binds them both is a shared past that neither realise until late in the tale.
Around these two are the rest of the group - the charismatic Patrick (Ezra Miller) whose extreme flamboyance hides a sensitive inner self. Mae Whitman plays Mary-Elizabeth, Charlie's girlfriend, who seems destined for great things but is yet to realise her potential. All roads lead to the Ivy League for these bright young things but none of them have sufficient control over their personal lives for comfort.
In this no man's land, a strange bipolar mix of delight and sadness compete from scene to scene which encapsulates the elusiveness of those short teenage years.
However, much like this review, the film is prone to moments of pretention. Too many Smith's tracks for my liking and too much self-involved teenage angst.
Nonetheless, worth a watch for its interesting message about the perils of growing up.
Logan Lerman is charming as the shy, socially awkward Charlie, the hero of the film who holds a deep unrequited love for Sam (Emma Watson). The story is about growing up and about the contradictions of our later teenage years as well as those mistakes that we all make in our initial romantic stumblings.
What follows is a tale of deep poignancy as Sam and Charlie feel they way around through one failed relationship to another, never quite crossing one another at the right time. What binds them both is a shared past that neither realise until late in the tale.
Around these two are the rest of the group - the charismatic Patrick (Ezra Miller) whose extreme flamboyance hides a sensitive inner self. Mae Whitman plays Mary-Elizabeth, Charlie's girlfriend, who seems destined for great things but is yet to realise her potential. All roads lead to the Ivy League for these bright young things but none of them have sufficient control over their personal lives for comfort.
In this no man's land, a strange bipolar mix of delight and sadness compete from scene to scene which encapsulates the elusiveness of those short teenage years.
However, much like this review, the film is prone to moments of pretention. Too many Smith's tracks for my liking and too much self-involved teenage angst.
Nonetheless, worth a watch for its interesting message about the perils of growing up.
Sunday, 30 September 2012
'Looper' dir. Rian Johnson
Ok, so Joseph Gordon Levitt plays a hired assassin who kills other hired assassins sent back from the future when they are no longer useful to the criminal overlords of thirty years hence. Then Bruce Willis appears - Joseph Gordon Levitt's future self and part of his job as a looper is to kill his future self and what? WHAT? How does that even work?
As with any plot that involves time travel, a more than healthy dose of suspension of disbelief is required to fully enjoy the ride. Nonetheless, it is a highly enjoyable one that initially takes us on a tour of the dystopic, morally bankrupt Kansas City of 2044.
During this tour, we are presented with a rather depressing summary of the fractured, lonely existence of the average 'looper'. Joe (Levitt) is a drug addled wreck of a man blocking out the emptiness of his past with fast cars and call girls. He drifts between assignments, staying sober only long enough to perform his next execution.
His closest friend and colleague Seth (Paul Dano) shares these values until he is unfortunate enough to have to face up to 'closing his loop' - i.e. killing his future self. Upon arrival in the present, Seth's future self tells him of an even darker world in 2074 in which a criminal known as 'The Rainmaker' is bending humanity to his will and as a consequence Seth refuses to kill him. Unfortunately for Seth, letting his future self escape into the present carries a rather harsh penalty.
The following day, Bruce Willis' arrival signals that it is time for Joe to also 'close his loop'. Joe arrives prepared to deliver the fatal blow but his older self has made other plans and escapes. His reason for doing so quickly becomes apparent as he sets out to kill 'The Rainmaker' before he has a chance to grow up.
The older Joe's motives are not purely altruistic - he is also looking to preserve a future for Levitt that involves meeting the woman who will lift him out of his seedy existence. A chase ensues as the older Joe sets out to kill the three possible children who may be 'The Rainmaker', a consequence of which is that the younger Joe finds himself on a farm protecting one of these children.
This child is under the care of Sara (Emily Blunt), another victim of the supreme hedonistic culture of the city who has retreated from it to bring up her son. It soon becomes apparent that there is something different about this boy. Cid, played with tremendous energy by Pierce Gagnon, has an exceptional intellect and a precocious nature. He challenges many of Joe's long held beliefs about the world he lives in.
Sara and Cid are the only characters in the film who share any form of loving human relationship and it is interesting to note that this seems to separate them from the madness that abounds. The only other exception to this rule is the older Joe, whose selfish desire to return to his wife leads him to madness.
So, despite its brain fryingly complex subject matter, Looper has managed an interesting take on the importance of human relationships in an increasingly status driven society. It is not only a well constructed action film but a dystopic science fiction that ranks alongside the best in the genre.
As with any plot that involves time travel, a more than healthy dose of suspension of disbelief is required to fully enjoy the ride. Nonetheless, it is a highly enjoyable one that initially takes us on a tour of the dystopic, morally bankrupt Kansas City of 2044.
During this tour, we are presented with a rather depressing summary of the fractured, lonely existence of the average 'looper'. Joe (Levitt) is a drug addled wreck of a man blocking out the emptiness of his past with fast cars and call girls. He drifts between assignments, staying sober only long enough to perform his next execution.
His closest friend and colleague Seth (Paul Dano) shares these values until he is unfortunate enough to have to face up to 'closing his loop' - i.e. killing his future self. Upon arrival in the present, Seth's future self tells him of an even darker world in 2074 in which a criminal known as 'The Rainmaker' is bending humanity to his will and as a consequence Seth refuses to kill him. Unfortunately for Seth, letting his future self escape into the present carries a rather harsh penalty.
The following day, Bruce Willis' arrival signals that it is time for Joe to also 'close his loop'. Joe arrives prepared to deliver the fatal blow but his older self has made other plans and escapes. His reason for doing so quickly becomes apparent as he sets out to kill 'The Rainmaker' before he has a chance to grow up.
The older Joe's motives are not purely altruistic - he is also looking to preserve a future for Levitt that involves meeting the woman who will lift him out of his seedy existence. A chase ensues as the older Joe sets out to kill the three possible children who may be 'The Rainmaker', a consequence of which is that the younger Joe finds himself on a farm protecting one of these children.
This child is under the care of Sara (Emily Blunt), another victim of the supreme hedonistic culture of the city who has retreated from it to bring up her son. It soon becomes apparent that there is something different about this boy. Cid, played with tremendous energy by Pierce Gagnon, has an exceptional intellect and a precocious nature. He challenges many of Joe's long held beliefs about the world he lives in.
Sara and Cid are the only characters in the film who share any form of loving human relationship and it is interesting to note that this seems to separate them from the madness that abounds. The only other exception to this rule is the older Joe, whose selfish desire to return to his wife leads him to madness.
So, despite its brain fryingly complex subject matter, Looper has managed an interesting take on the importance of human relationships in an increasingly status driven society. It is not only a well constructed action film but a dystopic science fiction that ranks alongside the best in the genre.
Sunday, 16 September 2012
'The Sweeney' dir. Nick Love
'Hold up, I haven't been an 'ard man in a gritty British action film in a couple of years,' I can imagine Ray Winstone saying on the set of his latest betting advert.
A few well placed calls later and here we have it. Let's face it, if they were ever going to remake 'The Sweeney' - a vaguely chauvenistic 70's TV police series with John Thaw and Dennis Waterman then Ray was always going to be the likeliest man to play the guv'na Jack Regan.
And the opening scenes are promising as Regan and his flying squad take out various armed gangs in a series of absurdly violent operations. Add to that a hard pressed commander Frank Haskins (Damian Lewis) being pushed by straight laced internal investigator Ivan Lewis (played with relish by Steven Mackintosh) and we have a recipe for a very respectable evening of entertainment.
Unfortunately, there are some elements of the plot that seem a little beyond belief such as the ongoing affair between Regan and Nancy (Hayley Attwell). Perhaps this is just a nagging doubt but it does seem that she could do a bit better than an alcoholic used up old cop in his late fifties.
Nor does it seem likely that she would be married to the aforementioned Ivan Lewis - surely the dullest police character ever created and strongly reminiscent of Dwayne T. Robinson from the original Die Hard film.
The rest of the flying squad are given little screen time with the exception of George Carter (Ben Drew) who is a converted teenage miscreant with a ridiculously expensive flat. Beyond the occasional meditation on how his new life is not so very different to his old one he is really not given that much to do.
That is, until the final act, when the plot slightly goes AWOL and Regan is put in a nasty situation by the straight laced internal investigator Ivan. At this point the usual message of these films kicks in 'he may not play by the rules but, by God, he gets results' and it plays out accordingly.
So, this ending was comforting in its familiarity but slightly frustrating for all that. If it had gone for something a little different - perhaps playing a little more strongly on the police corruption angle then it may have made a greater impact. Nonetheless, it was a solid Saturday night of entertainment and I am almost certain that I will be reviewing the sequel at some point in the not too distant future.
A few well placed calls later and here we have it. Let's face it, if they were ever going to remake 'The Sweeney' - a vaguely chauvenistic 70's TV police series with John Thaw and Dennis Waterman then Ray was always going to be the likeliest man to play the guv'na Jack Regan.
And the opening scenes are promising as Regan and his flying squad take out various armed gangs in a series of absurdly violent operations. Add to that a hard pressed commander Frank Haskins (Damian Lewis) being pushed by straight laced internal investigator Ivan Lewis (played with relish by Steven Mackintosh) and we have a recipe for a very respectable evening of entertainment.
Unfortunately, there are some elements of the plot that seem a little beyond belief such as the ongoing affair between Regan and Nancy (Hayley Attwell). Perhaps this is just a nagging doubt but it does seem that she could do a bit better than an alcoholic used up old cop in his late fifties.
Nor does it seem likely that she would be married to the aforementioned Ivan Lewis - surely the dullest police character ever created and strongly reminiscent of Dwayne T. Robinson from the original Die Hard film.
The rest of the flying squad are given little screen time with the exception of George Carter (Ben Drew) who is a converted teenage miscreant with a ridiculously expensive flat. Beyond the occasional meditation on how his new life is not so very different to his old one he is really not given that much to do.
That is, until the final act, when the plot slightly goes AWOL and Regan is put in a nasty situation by the straight laced internal investigator Ivan. At this point the usual message of these films kicks in 'he may not play by the rules but, by God, he gets results' and it plays out accordingly.
So, this ending was comforting in its familiarity but slightly frustrating for all that. If it had gone for something a little different - perhaps playing a little more strongly on the police corruption angle then it may have made a greater impact. Nonetheless, it was a solid Saturday night of entertainment and I am almost certain that I will be reviewing the sequel at some point in the not too distant future.
Thursday, 23 August 2012
'Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell' by Susanna Clarke
This weighty tome - coming in at just over 1000 pages is, needless to say, a bit of a slow burner. Unlike other recent tales of the fantastic, it does not rely on creating a new world or on political allegory to get its message across. It is instead set in a credible version of Napoleonic Britain, which has long since given up on its 'magicians' achieving anything useful against the threat across the English Channel.
That is until the arrival of Gilbert Norrell in London, a reclusive individual who believes that he is the only man with the right to practice magic on behalf of the British Government. When this unchallenged position is threatened by the appearance of a young man by the name of Jonathan Strange, Norrell, acting against his usual instincts, takes him on as an apprentice.
Strange proves to be a refreshing change to Norrell. He has a young wife and seems to fit in effortlessly with the graces of London Society. Eventually, he is invited to Spain to serve under the Duke of Wellington, where he succeeds in proving the value of his magic to an awkward and uncharitable commander.
It is at this point that the vast scope of the novel seems to catch up with it and, for around the last four hundred pages, it was exceptionally difficult to follow the journeys that these characters took. The body count rose with alarming rapidity as they were disposed of for reasons that did not seem well established.
Despite being well researched and having interesting elements to it, I could not help but feel that this novel would have benefitted greatly from fewer characters and a more stringent editor. Susanna Clarke is a talented writer but this was an exhausting read which left a slight sense of disappointment on its conclusion.
Well written but hard work.
That is until the arrival of Gilbert Norrell in London, a reclusive individual who believes that he is the only man with the right to practice magic on behalf of the British Government. When this unchallenged position is threatened by the appearance of a young man by the name of Jonathan Strange, Norrell, acting against his usual instincts, takes him on as an apprentice.
Strange proves to be a refreshing change to Norrell. He has a young wife and seems to fit in effortlessly with the graces of London Society. Eventually, he is invited to Spain to serve under the Duke of Wellington, where he succeeds in proving the value of his magic to an awkward and uncharitable commander.
It is at this point that the vast scope of the novel seems to catch up with it and, for around the last four hundred pages, it was exceptionally difficult to follow the journeys that these characters took. The body count rose with alarming rapidity as they were disposed of for reasons that did not seem well established.
Despite being well researched and having interesting elements to it, I could not help but feel that this novel would have benefitted greatly from fewer characters and a more stringent editor. Susanna Clarke is a talented writer but this was an exhausting read which left a slight sense of disappointment on its conclusion.
Well written but hard work.
Sunday, 29 April 2012
'Avengers Assemble' dir. Joss Whedon
It is not too difficult to imagine the reception Joss Whedon received when he pitched this film:-
Execs: Six of them, Joss?
Whedon: Yeah, six, why not?
Why not indeed? Well, given the seemingly limitless supply of superhero films, a more pressing question might be why?
Well, beyond the current trends of more is more and bigger is better and the financial motives that lie behind those sentiments, 'Avengers Assemble' does not do too bad a job of answering why it has been made. The first third of the film is somewhat confused as the each of the heroes get given perhaps one or two scenes in which to characterise themselves. It is unsurpising that as a consequence most of the film's best lines come from Robert Downey Jr's Ironman, the most interesting and well rounded of any of them.
The plot is, well, almost beyond comprehension, making occasional comments on renewable energy and allegories to a 'Terminator'-esque relationship with high technology. This technology unleashes Loki, played with glorious malevolence by Tom Hiddleston, who decides to unleash an army of aliens against Earth. His motive is a long-running brotherly disagreement with Thor (Chris Hemsworth), who when not hitting objects with a hammer, delivers grave speeches about what is coming next.
Trying to anticipate what's coming next are an organization called SHIELD, led by Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) who gets Captain America (Chris Evans), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) and Ironman together for the coming fight. An unstable element is introduced to the group more for his brains than his potential brawn, Mark Ruffalo's The Hulk otherwise known as mild mannered scientist Bruce Banner. No prizes for guessing how long the 'mild mannered' section lasts.
Once the heroes get together, the inevitable massive fight scene shortly follows. Their version of the cloudbase from 'Captain Scarlet' finds itself in some serious difficulties, plagued as it is by Jeremy Renner's brainwashed Hawkeye. When Johannson makes the mistake of making The Hulk angry, defeat seems close. Fortunately, Captain America saves the day, a sequence stemming out of the conflict between Evans' simple heroism and Downey Jr's neat line in modern cynicism.
After a little more characterisation for Johannson and Renner and the inevitable 'we're having a crisis' scene in which Samuel L. Jackson gets angry, it is on to New York for the final confrontation. What follows is a fun if preposterous turn of events, the highlight of which is a duel between Loki and The Hulk. The ending, whilst equally absurd, fits into the spirit of the rest of the film neatly.
As with all ensemble hero films, this does seem to suffer from having too many main characters. Black Widow and Hawkeye seem particularly underdeveloped and some of the continuity seems a little inconsistent. How can a human character get a bloody nose in one sequence and be perfectly fine when thrown against a wall minutes later? 'Avengers Assemble' does not attempt to answer this question but perhaps it is best if it does not try. It is, after all, nothing more and nothing less than a fine example of popcorn cinema.
Execs: Six of them, Joss?
Whedon: Yeah, six, why not?
Why not indeed? Well, given the seemingly limitless supply of superhero films, a more pressing question might be why?
Well, beyond the current trends of more is more and bigger is better and the financial motives that lie behind those sentiments, 'Avengers Assemble' does not do too bad a job of answering why it has been made. The first third of the film is somewhat confused as the each of the heroes get given perhaps one or two scenes in which to characterise themselves. It is unsurpising that as a consequence most of the film's best lines come from Robert Downey Jr's Ironman, the most interesting and well rounded of any of them.
The plot is, well, almost beyond comprehension, making occasional comments on renewable energy and allegories to a 'Terminator'-esque relationship with high technology. This technology unleashes Loki, played with glorious malevolence by Tom Hiddleston, who decides to unleash an army of aliens against Earth. His motive is a long-running brotherly disagreement with Thor (Chris Hemsworth), who when not hitting objects with a hammer, delivers grave speeches about what is coming next.
Trying to anticipate what's coming next are an organization called SHIELD, led by Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) who gets Captain America (Chris Evans), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) and Ironman together for the coming fight. An unstable element is introduced to the group more for his brains than his potential brawn, Mark Ruffalo's The Hulk otherwise known as mild mannered scientist Bruce Banner. No prizes for guessing how long the 'mild mannered' section lasts.
Once the heroes get together, the inevitable massive fight scene shortly follows. Their version of the cloudbase from 'Captain Scarlet' finds itself in some serious difficulties, plagued as it is by Jeremy Renner's brainwashed Hawkeye. When Johannson makes the mistake of making The Hulk angry, defeat seems close. Fortunately, Captain America saves the day, a sequence stemming out of the conflict between Evans' simple heroism and Downey Jr's neat line in modern cynicism.
After a little more characterisation for Johannson and Renner and the inevitable 'we're having a crisis' scene in which Samuel L. Jackson gets angry, it is on to New York for the final confrontation. What follows is a fun if preposterous turn of events, the highlight of which is a duel between Loki and The Hulk. The ending, whilst equally absurd, fits into the spirit of the rest of the film neatly.
As with all ensemble hero films, this does seem to suffer from having too many main characters. Black Widow and Hawkeye seem particularly underdeveloped and some of the continuity seems a little inconsistent. How can a human character get a bloody nose in one sequence and be perfectly fine when thrown against a wall minutes later? 'Avengers Assemble' does not attempt to answer this question but perhaps it is best if it does not try. It is, after all, nothing more and nothing less than a fine example of popcorn cinema.
Friday, 1 April 2011
'The Eagle' dir. Kevin Macdonald
This film works on the long held premise that the Roman Empire was almost entirely reliant on the Master-Slave relationship. It has a clear debt to Gladiator as well as more recent written fiction about Rome that tends to concentrate on this theme.
Channing Tatum's character Marcus Aquila starts the film as a man very much in command of his own destiny. He has chosen a posting in Britain, at the very edge of the Roman world. The reason for this is that he is attempting to restore his father's honour by trying to regain a golden eagle lost by the ninth legion in Scotland many years previously.
A severe injury shortly renders him incapable of completing this task with the cohort he commands. Instead, he is left to recover from his wounds away from the front line. The battle that leads to this injury is rendered in a close-up documentary style that is typical of the director Kevin Macdonald. There is a grim, almost visceral authenticity that runs through both this scene and the film as a whole. Every shield covered in muck and gore seems as close as if you were standing in front of it. Aquila's fate after this battle is to lose his command.
After his injury, he is sent to the care of his uncle (Donald Sutherland) who informs him that he has been forced into an honourable discharge. This reversal leaves Aquila without hope that he can regain the lost eagle. However, this hopelessness is short lived after he sees a brave performance from a Gladiator named Esca. At a moment of intense pressure, Aquila finds that he has a chance to save Esca's life. He does so and as a consequence Esca (Jamie Bell) is bound to serve him.
Unsurprisingly, this leads to Aquila rekindling his interest in finding the lost eagle as the two of them build a reluctant friendship. As they head north over the Scottish border, the relationship between the two becomes more blurred as Esca begins to enjoy the obvious advantages of being able to speak the native language.
Eventually, the tension this creates between them leads to their capture at the hands of some ruthless natives. It is at this point that the two leads really come into their own. Channing Tatum is an actor who has made some pretty awful films but in this he is well cast and very believable in this role. Likewise, Jamie Bell really lends a brooding, resentful presence to Esca.
Yet, perhaps their most intriguing encounter is with Mark Strong, who plays a former comrade of Aquila's father known as Guern. He speaks in a cod-American accent and delivers a line which almost sinks the film - 'No, you weren't there'. He was referring the battle at which the legion lost their eagle but it sounded as if it could belong in any 'Nam flick.
Despite this, his role in the film is an intriguing one as a man who had almost lost himself. Indeed, he shares this in common with Aquila, whose one aim leads him to repeated acts of violence that often seem to have no function. Given this level of violence, the certificate was really something of a surprise at a 12A but it certainly provides a couple of hours of classic, boys own adventure.
The film does have weak points such as Guern's slightly unreal motivations towards the finale but it is a story that reinforces the importance of honour and friendship. Well worth a watch, but not for the squeamish.
Channing Tatum's character Marcus Aquila starts the film as a man very much in command of his own destiny. He has chosen a posting in Britain, at the very edge of the Roman world. The reason for this is that he is attempting to restore his father's honour by trying to regain a golden eagle lost by the ninth legion in Scotland many years previously.
A severe injury shortly renders him incapable of completing this task with the cohort he commands. Instead, he is left to recover from his wounds away from the front line. The battle that leads to this injury is rendered in a close-up documentary style that is typical of the director Kevin Macdonald. There is a grim, almost visceral authenticity that runs through both this scene and the film as a whole. Every shield covered in muck and gore seems as close as if you were standing in front of it. Aquila's fate after this battle is to lose his command.
After his injury, he is sent to the care of his uncle (Donald Sutherland) who informs him that he has been forced into an honourable discharge. This reversal leaves Aquila without hope that he can regain the lost eagle. However, this hopelessness is short lived after he sees a brave performance from a Gladiator named Esca. At a moment of intense pressure, Aquila finds that he has a chance to save Esca's life. He does so and as a consequence Esca (Jamie Bell) is bound to serve him.
Unsurprisingly, this leads to Aquila rekindling his interest in finding the lost eagle as the two of them build a reluctant friendship. As they head north over the Scottish border, the relationship between the two becomes more blurred as Esca begins to enjoy the obvious advantages of being able to speak the native language.
Eventually, the tension this creates between them leads to their capture at the hands of some ruthless natives. It is at this point that the two leads really come into their own. Channing Tatum is an actor who has made some pretty awful films but in this he is well cast and very believable in this role. Likewise, Jamie Bell really lends a brooding, resentful presence to Esca.
Yet, perhaps their most intriguing encounter is with Mark Strong, who plays a former comrade of Aquila's father known as Guern. He speaks in a cod-American accent and delivers a line which almost sinks the film - 'No, you weren't there'. He was referring the battle at which the legion lost their eagle but it sounded as if it could belong in any 'Nam flick.
Despite this, his role in the film is an intriguing one as a man who had almost lost himself. Indeed, he shares this in common with Aquila, whose one aim leads him to repeated acts of violence that often seem to have no function. Given this level of violence, the certificate was really something of a surprise at a 12A but it certainly provides a couple of hours of classic, boys own adventure.
The film does have weak points such as Guern's slightly unreal motivations towards the finale but it is a story that reinforces the importance of honour and friendship. Well worth a watch, but not for the squeamish.
Thursday, 21 October 2010
'The girl who kicked the hornets' nest' by Stieg Larsson
One of the many reasons Stieg Larsson's books have captivated such a vast number of readers is the central character of the trilogy, Lisbeth Salander. She dominates this volume to an even greater extent than the previous two. The plot is a largely improbable conspiracy at the centre of the Swedish government which is complex beyond description.
Indeed, at many points throughout the book it seems as though so many Swedish names or terms are thrown out that it becomes difficult to follow. Nonetheless, Larsson's grasp of character and what makes humans tick is second to almost no other author. His dialogue is exceptional and even in a translated work tension is retained throughout.
As ever, we largely follow the intrepid reporter Mikael Blomqvist on his pursuit of the truth concerning Salander. Both of them shortly find themselves in mortal danger which persists to even greater degree than in the previous books. However, this time it is not just limited to them as everyone with any connection to them becomes a potential target.
That sense of peril is well done, it never seems that any of the central characters are safe or uninvolved. To an even greater extent than in the previous two books, Larsson has placed his characters in a web of lies that they struggle to escape from. Even the previously occasional character of Blomqvist's editor, Erika Berger, finds herself involved with the case. She is the victim of a particularly nasty hate campaign.
Despite the references to distinct places in Stockholm and Goteborg that will leave non-Swedes slightly dumbfounded, Larsson creates a distinct sense of place and time. At no point does it feel that the narrative cannot be followed. As with all the best thrillers, the place is something of an incidental feature when compared to the action. All the action sequences are well-rendered even if some of them are frankly unimaginable. Certainly, towards the end of the book, there are a few sections that feel a little over the top.
Nonetheless, this is an excellent read and the trilogy as a whole can be highly recommended. This is especially the case for anyone who has not read for a while or is in need of some diversion.
Indeed, at many points throughout the book it seems as though so many Swedish names or terms are thrown out that it becomes difficult to follow. Nonetheless, Larsson's grasp of character and what makes humans tick is second to almost no other author. His dialogue is exceptional and even in a translated work tension is retained throughout.
As ever, we largely follow the intrepid reporter Mikael Blomqvist on his pursuit of the truth concerning Salander. Both of them shortly find themselves in mortal danger which persists to even greater degree than in the previous books. However, this time it is not just limited to them as everyone with any connection to them becomes a potential target.
That sense of peril is well done, it never seems that any of the central characters are safe or uninvolved. To an even greater extent than in the previous two books, Larsson has placed his characters in a web of lies that they struggle to escape from. Even the previously occasional character of Blomqvist's editor, Erika Berger, finds herself involved with the case. She is the victim of a particularly nasty hate campaign.
Despite the references to distinct places in Stockholm and Goteborg that will leave non-Swedes slightly dumbfounded, Larsson creates a distinct sense of place and time. At no point does it feel that the narrative cannot be followed. As with all the best thrillers, the place is something of an incidental feature when compared to the action. All the action sequences are well-rendered even if some of them are frankly unimaginable. Certainly, towards the end of the book, there are a few sections that feel a little over the top.
Nonetheless, this is an excellent read and the trilogy as a whole can be highly recommended. This is especially the case for anyone who has not read for a while or is in need of some diversion.
Monday, 4 October 2010
'Harold Larwood' by Duncan Hamilton
It is a rare thing for a cricket player to be at the centre of a diplomatic crisis. It is rarer still for English cricket to produce a truly great fast bowler. Both statements can be truly said of Harold Larwood, the quickest of his age. He performed in an era before protective equipment, when there was a very real chance that Larwood could shatter bone and break skin with each delivery. He was said to induce terror amongst those going out to face him.
Yet, for all that great aggression on the field, Duncan Hamilton portrays a decent man who was shabbily treated by the the establishment off it. The great turning point of his life was the 'Bodyline' tour of Australia during 1932/33 when he bowled to an aggressive leg-side field. It was both his finest hour and his last appearance in an England cap. The ructions that this series created can still be felt today in the relationship between the two countries.
When compared to the tumultuous Pakistan tour that has just finished, the 1932/33 Ashes series was even more divisive with even greater consequences for its participants. Hamilton shows us how Larwood went from being a hero for the Marylebone Cricket Club (then administrators of the England team) to its principal villain as the Australian complaints became more vocal. The consequences stretched as far as central government, which demanded through its friends at Lords that Larwood be made to apologise.
In keeping with his modest background, the unpretentious Harold Larwood refused to do so, thus ending his international career. Hamilton shows us how this ultimately led to disillusion with the game, taking Larwood into a long period of exile from cricket. Yet, when reading the opening pages of the book, it seems difficult to believe that a young lad who lived for nothing else would decide to end his career so early.
His start at his county, Nottinghamshire, was only earned after a long spell of working in nearby mines. The determination to stay away from the pits is what led Larwood to practise bowling so intensely. It was clear early on to those that faced him that he was destined for England duty. He soon struck up a partnership with his friend Bill Voce, who joined him on the international stage.
After an inauspicious start, Larwood was worried that his career was over before it had begun. Yet, his captain with both Nottinghamshire and England, Arthur Carr, persuaded him that he was good enough. Gradually, his confidence grew to such a point that he scared batsmen (sometimes literally) to the point of immobility. After a narrow victory over the Australians in his first series, Larwood continued his international success over the next five seasons.
This period was also his greatest domestically as Nottinghamshire won the 1929 county championship. Larwood took hundreds of wickets at absurdely low averages of between 12 and 18. As he approached 1932, he was in the best form he had ever been in. Before the Orontes set sail to take him to Australia, Douglas Jardine, his new international captain called him to a meeting that would change the direction of his life.
Leg-theory or 'Bodyline' had been in widespread use in domestic tournaments during the early 1930's. It was a tactic that involved aiming a fast, short pitched ball at the batsman to induce a catching chance. Jardine proposed to his bowlers that they should use this tactic with the intention of disrupting the Australian batting. He also felt that one member of that line-up merited special attention, a man by the name of Donald Bradman.
To those of you less familiar with cricket, Donald Bradman is widely accepted as the greatest player to have ever held a bat. He was the principal danger to England's chances of success on the tour. Larwood's duels with Bradman became the stuff of legend as England, largely thanks to Larwood, won the series 4-1.
This victory came at a heavy cost. Larwood struck Bert Oldfield, the Australian wicket-keeper on the head as well as many other members of the team. Hamilton shows us how he had not intended to deliberately hurt them but this is not the way the Australian public interpreted it. They called for Larwood's head and as a result of the MCC's acquiescence, they got it.
Despite that bitter end to his career, Larwood is remembered universally as a truly magnificent bowler whose action is a thing of beauty to behold. It is a credit to Duncan Hamilton that he shows us the man behind the bowler. He reveals that Larwood was no thug or bully as some Australians have suggested but a kind man with a rich and varied life.
The book is best summed up by the quote it uses early on from the Australian leg-spinner Bill O'Reilly when talking about facing Larwood:
'He came steaming in and I moved right across behind my bat, held perfectly straight in defence of my centre stump. Just before he delivered the ball something hit the middle of my bat with such force that it was almost dashed from my hands. It was the ball.'
It is a fitting testament to one of the greatest bowlers to have graced the game. Just as this book is a fine account of his life.
Yet, for all that great aggression on the field, Duncan Hamilton portrays a decent man who was shabbily treated by the the establishment off it. The great turning point of his life was the 'Bodyline' tour of Australia during 1932/33 when he bowled to an aggressive leg-side field. It was both his finest hour and his last appearance in an England cap. The ructions that this series created can still be felt today in the relationship between the two countries.
When compared to the tumultuous Pakistan tour that has just finished, the 1932/33 Ashes series was even more divisive with even greater consequences for its participants. Hamilton shows us how Larwood went from being a hero for the Marylebone Cricket Club (then administrators of the England team) to its principal villain as the Australian complaints became more vocal. The consequences stretched as far as central government, which demanded through its friends at Lords that Larwood be made to apologise.
In keeping with his modest background, the unpretentious Harold Larwood refused to do so, thus ending his international career. Hamilton shows us how this ultimately led to disillusion with the game, taking Larwood into a long period of exile from cricket. Yet, when reading the opening pages of the book, it seems difficult to believe that a young lad who lived for nothing else would decide to end his career so early.
His start at his county, Nottinghamshire, was only earned after a long spell of working in nearby mines. The determination to stay away from the pits is what led Larwood to practise bowling so intensely. It was clear early on to those that faced him that he was destined for England duty. He soon struck up a partnership with his friend Bill Voce, who joined him on the international stage.
After an inauspicious start, Larwood was worried that his career was over before it had begun. Yet, his captain with both Nottinghamshire and England, Arthur Carr, persuaded him that he was good enough. Gradually, his confidence grew to such a point that he scared batsmen (sometimes literally) to the point of immobility. After a narrow victory over the Australians in his first series, Larwood continued his international success over the next five seasons.
This period was also his greatest domestically as Nottinghamshire won the 1929 county championship. Larwood took hundreds of wickets at absurdely low averages of between 12 and 18. As he approached 1932, he was in the best form he had ever been in. Before the Orontes set sail to take him to Australia, Douglas Jardine, his new international captain called him to a meeting that would change the direction of his life.
Leg-theory or 'Bodyline' had been in widespread use in domestic tournaments during the early 1930's. It was a tactic that involved aiming a fast, short pitched ball at the batsman to induce a catching chance. Jardine proposed to his bowlers that they should use this tactic with the intention of disrupting the Australian batting. He also felt that one member of that line-up merited special attention, a man by the name of Donald Bradman.
To those of you less familiar with cricket, Donald Bradman is widely accepted as the greatest player to have ever held a bat. He was the principal danger to England's chances of success on the tour. Larwood's duels with Bradman became the stuff of legend as England, largely thanks to Larwood, won the series 4-1.
This victory came at a heavy cost. Larwood struck Bert Oldfield, the Australian wicket-keeper on the head as well as many other members of the team. Hamilton shows us how he had not intended to deliberately hurt them but this is not the way the Australian public interpreted it. They called for Larwood's head and as a result of the MCC's acquiescence, they got it.
Despite that bitter end to his career, Larwood is remembered universally as a truly magnificent bowler whose action is a thing of beauty to behold. It is a credit to Duncan Hamilton that he shows us the man behind the bowler. He reveals that Larwood was no thug or bully as some Australians have suggested but a kind man with a rich and varied life.
The book is best summed up by the quote it uses early on from the Australian leg-spinner Bill O'Reilly when talking about facing Larwood:
'He came steaming in and I moved right across behind my bat, held perfectly straight in defence of my centre stump. Just before he delivered the ball something hit the middle of my bat with such force that it was almost dashed from my hands. It was the ball.'
It is a fitting testament to one of the greatest bowlers to have graced the game. Just as this book is a fine account of his life.
Tuesday, 21 September 2010
'Touching the Void' by Joe Simpson
To put it simply, this book is the most tremendous tale of human courage I have ever read. It is a non-fiction classic about both the extreme risks we take in pursuit of thrills and the value of survival once those risks have placed life in danger. Simpson and his climbing partner Simon Yates faced both whilst climbing Siula Grande in the Peruvian Andes.
The climb begins well enough. Their ascent of the western face of the mountain is largely successful despite regular bouts of frostbite. They endure such hardship with the good humour of experienced climbers who are used to difficult conditions. Little were they to realise that their problems were just beginning.
On the descent, Simpson falls over a ledge and snags his leg on Yates' rope. His knee is broken by the fall. With only his climbing partner for company on a remote mountain, this injury is a death sentence. Yet, amongst the many instances of heroism in this story, Yates bears his partner's weight on a guide rope as they descend together. By doing this, it is clear that Yates took a terrible risk with his own life, one that would lead to an even greater disaster.
At this point, the climbers seem to have a slim chance of escaping with their lives. Yet, fate intervenes once again. Simpson falls into a crevasse whilst Yates holds him on the rope. Yates faces an impossible choice, his own life or Simpson's. In a moment of anguish, he makes a choice that none of us would hope to face up to. Simpson is left on his own, assumed to be dead.
As Yates returns to the camp in tears for the choice he made, the audience is confronted by the thought of what we would have done if faced by the same situation. It is difficult to picture being there but the book is so well written that it is possible to feel every action taken by the climbers, even for someone with absolutely no experience of it.
At the bottom of the crevasse, Simpson finds it within himself to escape. He hops, crawls and hauls his way to the surface. Distances that would usually be covered in ten minutes take hours. No weight can be placed on his broken leg. Every moment of his painstaking descent is captured in gruesome detail. Simpson is not sentimental about those days and you get a very close sense of how close he came to death.
He shows typical Sheffield grit in his attitude to survival. The sheer extremes of starvation and dehydration are difficult to imagine, let alone descending a 20,000 ft mountain with a broken kneecap. The reader feels closely involved, willing Joe to make it. It never feels certain that he will but when he finally does get to base camp he is in such a state as to make survival uncertain.
Yates cannot believe that his partner has survived. Their reunion is one of the most moving passages of the book. Not for one moment does it seem contrived or exaggurated. In such harsh circumstances, Yates and Simpson found incredible reserves of strength and resilience.
A truly remarkable tale of adventure and survival. So much more than just a book about climbing.
The climb begins well enough. Their ascent of the western face of the mountain is largely successful despite regular bouts of frostbite. They endure such hardship with the good humour of experienced climbers who are used to difficult conditions. Little were they to realise that their problems were just beginning.
On the descent, Simpson falls over a ledge and snags his leg on Yates' rope. His knee is broken by the fall. With only his climbing partner for company on a remote mountain, this injury is a death sentence. Yet, amongst the many instances of heroism in this story, Yates bears his partner's weight on a guide rope as they descend together. By doing this, it is clear that Yates took a terrible risk with his own life, one that would lead to an even greater disaster.
At this point, the climbers seem to have a slim chance of escaping with their lives. Yet, fate intervenes once again. Simpson falls into a crevasse whilst Yates holds him on the rope. Yates faces an impossible choice, his own life or Simpson's. In a moment of anguish, he makes a choice that none of us would hope to face up to. Simpson is left on his own, assumed to be dead.
As Yates returns to the camp in tears for the choice he made, the audience is confronted by the thought of what we would have done if faced by the same situation. It is difficult to picture being there but the book is so well written that it is possible to feel every action taken by the climbers, even for someone with absolutely no experience of it.
At the bottom of the crevasse, Simpson finds it within himself to escape. He hops, crawls and hauls his way to the surface. Distances that would usually be covered in ten minutes take hours. No weight can be placed on his broken leg. Every moment of his painstaking descent is captured in gruesome detail. Simpson is not sentimental about those days and you get a very close sense of how close he came to death.
He shows typical Sheffield grit in his attitude to survival. The sheer extremes of starvation and dehydration are difficult to imagine, let alone descending a 20,000 ft mountain with a broken kneecap. The reader feels closely involved, willing Joe to make it. It never feels certain that he will but when he finally does get to base camp he is in such a state as to make survival uncertain.
Yates cannot believe that his partner has survived. Their reunion is one of the most moving passages of the book. Not for one moment does it seem contrived or exaggurated. In such harsh circumstances, Yates and Simpson found incredible reserves of strength and resilience.
A truly remarkable tale of adventure and survival. So much more than just a book about climbing.
Sunday, 19 September 2010
'Shutter Island' dir. Martin Scorsese
Scorsese can always be relied on to produce a psychologically complex film. He has certainly done that with Shutter Island. It is the sign of an experienced director when the audience is left with as many questions as answers. Ultimately, we find that many of the assumptions that we had made about what was happening at the start of the film are refuted as the story progresses.
Initially, we follow a US Marshal Teddy Daniels (Leo Di Caprio) as he investigates the disappearance of an inmate from the Ashecliffe Mental Institution based on Shutter Island. As he closes in on an explanation of why she has disappeared, his progress is seemingly obstructed by the presence of Dr. John Cawley, the island's chief psychiatrist. Cawley is played with malevolent calm by Ben Kingsley as initially we are lured into believing that he is obstructing justice.
This impression is further reinforced by the presence of Dr. Jeremiah Naehring (Max von Sydow), a Nazi defector who is rumoured amongst the inmates to use brutal methods to sedate his patients. The post-war atmosphere of suspicion is re-created perfectly in the scenes between Daniels and Naehring. Daniels soon finds himself trapped on the island, unable to rid himself of the suspicion that he is about to suffer a terrible fate.
The atmosphere of paranoia encompasses every scene in Shutter Island. It is a testament to both the acting and direction that it never feels false. Di Caprio is especially believable as Daniels, a damaged individual who has yet to confront his own demons. It is soon revealed just how that damage has affected his judgement.
Daniels begins to collapse under this pressure. He is a man in search of both revenge and justice. These two conflicting goals ultimately lead him to destruction as confusion overtakes him. The ending leaves him every bit as trapped as he was at the start. It has an edge of Hamlet about it yet we can understand perfectly why he has ended up where he is.
Ultimately, Shutter Island leaves a strong impression albeit a somewhat confusing one. It is a disorientating film that questions the nature of mental illness - in itself a divisive subject. There are certain points where it seems Scorsese has been given too much editorial freedom and the ending does rather drag a bit. This is especially true in the final twenty minutes. Nonetheless, it is an excellent story that deserves the accolades.
Initially, we follow a US Marshal Teddy Daniels (Leo Di Caprio) as he investigates the disappearance of an inmate from the Ashecliffe Mental Institution based on Shutter Island. As he closes in on an explanation of why she has disappeared, his progress is seemingly obstructed by the presence of Dr. John Cawley, the island's chief psychiatrist. Cawley is played with malevolent calm by Ben Kingsley as initially we are lured into believing that he is obstructing justice.
This impression is further reinforced by the presence of Dr. Jeremiah Naehring (Max von Sydow), a Nazi defector who is rumoured amongst the inmates to use brutal methods to sedate his patients. The post-war atmosphere of suspicion is re-created perfectly in the scenes between Daniels and Naehring. Daniels soon finds himself trapped on the island, unable to rid himself of the suspicion that he is about to suffer a terrible fate.
The atmosphere of paranoia encompasses every scene in Shutter Island. It is a testament to both the acting and direction that it never feels false. Di Caprio is especially believable as Daniels, a damaged individual who has yet to confront his own demons. It is soon revealed just how that damage has affected his judgement.
Daniels begins to collapse under this pressure. He is a man in search of both revenge and justice. These two conflicting goals ultimately lead him to destruction as confusion overtakes him. The ending leaves him every bit as trapped as he was at the start. It has an edge of Hamlet about it yet we can understand perfectly why he has ended up where he is.
Ultimately, Shutter Island leaves a strong impression albeit a somewhat confusing one. It is a disorientating film that questions the nature of mental illness - in itself a divisive subject. There are certain points where it seems Scorsese has been given too much editorial freedom and the ending does rather drag a bit. This is especially true in the final twenty minutes. Nonetheless, it is an excellent story that deserves the accolades.
Monday, 13 September 2010
'Kick-Ass' dir. Matthew Vaughn
My expectations were somewhat muted before watching this one. This is largely due to the fact that comic 'fan boys' are increasingly dominating the Hollywood fantasy market and there have unfortunately been some real stinkers in amongst these recent films. However, having been thoroughly entertained for two hours, I can gladly state that this is certainly not the case with Kick-Ass.
The set up is perhaps grimly familiar to a British audience:- an American high school loser is madly in love with a girl who is out of his league. He reads too many comic books and ends up wanting to become a real-life superhero. Yet, despite all the cliched avenues this film could take, it successfully avoids all of them.
Our hero, Dave Lizewski, finds himself a very fetching wetsuit and proceeds to fight crime in the local neighbourhood. Perhaps unsurprisingly, he soon finds himself in hospital. Undeterred, he returns to the streets and as a result of youtube he quickly becomes a phenomenon known only as 'Kick-Ass'.
Due to an unfortunate set of circumstances, 'Kick-Ass' finds himself the target of local crime lord Frank D'Amico, played wonderfully straight by Mark Strong. Dave soon finds himself way out of his depth. Yet, help is soon at hand, 'Big Daddy' (Nic Cage on brilliant form) and 'Hit-Girl' soon dig him out of a hole. These two are the real deal, they are professionals, even though they happen to be father and daughter.
'Hit-Girl' is a gift of a character - a young girl whose foul mouth would make a marine blush. The dynamic between the two is truly unique, perhaps represented best by her birthday gift - a pair of knuckle dusters. They have enough nous to keep their presence unknown. However, 'Kick-Ass' is less fortunate.
After being trapped by an elaborate ruse, he finds himself in desperate jeopardy. We see Dave for what he really is, a young man who would be just as scared as any of us at getting beaten up by mobsters. Nonetheless, you cannot help but root for him. He is a genuine hero beset by his own inadequacies. He is a fool but a noble one at that. For all the ludicrous ultra-violence of some of the death sequences, there is always a clear line between the good and the bad.
This film confronts why some people want to put on latex and look like an idiot. It also confronts why most of us want to fight crime. However, perhaps most importantly it demonstrates how ill-suited many of us are to doing just that. Not the most challenging film of the year, but by far the most entertaining.
The set up is perhaps grimly familiar to a British audience:- an American high school loser is madly in love with a girl who is out of his league. He reads too many comic books and ends up wanting to become a real-life superhero. Yet, despite all the cliched avenues this film could take, it successfully avoids all of them.
Our hero, Dave Lizewski, finds himself a very fetching wetsuit and proceeds to fight crime in the local neighbourhood. Perhaps unsurprisingly, he soon finds himself in hospital. Undeterred, he returns to the streets and as a result of youtube he quickly becomes a phenomenon known only as 'Kick-Ass'.
Due to an unfortunate set of circumstances, 'Kick-Ass' finds himself the target of local crime lord Frank D'Amico, played wonderfully straight by Mark Strong. Dave soon finds himself way out of his depth. Yet, help is soon at hand, 'Big Daddy' (Nic Cage on brilliant form) and 'Hit-Girl' soon dig him out of a hole. These two are the real deal, they are professionals, even though they happen to be father and daughter.
'Hit-Girl' is a gift of a character - a young girl whose foul mouth would make a marine blush. The dynamic between the two is truly unique, perhaps represented best by her birthday gift - a pair of knuckle dusters. They have enough nous to keep their presence unknown. However, 'Kick-Ass' is less fortunate.
After being trapped by an elaborate ruse, he finds himself in desperate jeopardy. We see Dave for what he really is, a young man who would be just as scared as any of us at getting beaten up by mobsters. Nonetheless, you cannot help but root for him. He is a genuine hero beset by his own inadequacies. He is a fool but a noble one at that. For all the ludicrous ultra-violence of some of the death sequences, there is always a clear line between the good and the bad.
This film confronts why some people want to put on latex and look like an idiot. It also confronts why most of us want to fight crime. However, perhaps most importantly it demonstrates how ill-suited many of us are to doing just that. Not the most challenging film of the year, but by far the most entertaining.
Wednesday, 8 September 2010
'The good man Jesus and the scoundrel Christ' by Phillip Pullman
Phillip Pullman has once again surprised us with a refreshing take on one of the most well-worn stories in the world. There are few authors who are quite so aggressive on behalf of Atheism and it is clear from the start what his view is on the Christian myth. Nevertheless, he treads a fine line between being hyper-critical and recognising the contribution that Christianity has made to society.
The novel opens with the story of Joseph and Mary, who are mercifully not shrouded with mystery or crowned with halo's as the nature of their relationship is explored. Mary gives birth to twins, namely Jesus and Christ who offer different perspectives on the events of the rest of the novel. Jesus is certain of all of his actions, he preaches from a young age on morality and seems to have no trouble following his own path. By contrast, Christ is a very dependent child, more likely to have problems adapting to the outside world and as a consequence is in thrall to his brother.
Therefore, we follow Jesus through the eyes of Christ, who is watching him at every sermon. Pullman has Jesus deliver the familiar proverbs in a new and interesting way. We find that he is utterly rooted in his own sense of right, intractable in argument for tolerance. It is an interesting brush with his aggressive pacifism of the New Testament. However, Christ sees all this through a more recognisably human viewpoint. He is concerned about the consequences of his brother's actions and he worries about his long term future.
We are confronted by the anxiety of Christ as he sees his brother becoming increasingly a danger to himself: 'King Jesus' is daubed repeatedly on walls in the towns where he is present. The Romans are starting to take an interest in this preacher. Christ realises that he must now choose whether his own life is more valuable than that of his brother. Old jealousies rear their head as he makes his decision.
The end comes swiftly. Christ is racked with guilt for his role in his brother's death and it is at this point that Pullman takes us on something of a diversion. He has his central character make a long solliloquy on his loss of faith and his belief that the world is not perfect. Christ, unlike Jesus, is a realist in this story and yet, like all realists, Christ has made a decision based on what was best for himself. We find that he has no defence left when confronted with the consequences of his past.
As ever, Pullman uses the close of his book to question the role of the church. He seems to argue through his characters that it creates more problems than it solves but he is mature enough to balance the argument elsewhere in the narrative. It makes for an interesting read although at times it felt rather like the author was speaking through his characters rather than the characters speaking for themselves. Despite this, it is more than just a morality play and it does not shy away from humanising the birth of Christianity.
The novel opens with the story of Joseph and Mary, who are mercifully not shrouded with mystery or crowned with halo's as the nature of their relationship is explored. Mary gives birth to twins, namely Jesus and Christ who offer different perspectives on the events of the rest of the novel. Jesus is certain of all of his actions, he preaches from a young age on morality and seems to have no trouble following his own path. By contrast, Christ is a very dependent child, more likely to have problems adapting to the outside world and as a consequence is in thrall to his brother.
Therefore, we follow Jesus through the eyes of Christ, who is watching him at every sermon. Pullman has Jesus deliver the familiar proverbs in a new and interesting way. We find that he is utterly rooted in his own sense of right, intractable in argument for tolerance. It is an interesting brush with his aggressive pacifism of the New Testament. However, Christ sees all this through a more recognisably human viewpoint. He is concerned about the consequences of his brother's actions and he worries about his long term future.
We are confronted by the anxiety of Christ as he sees his brother becoming increasingly a danger to himself: 'King Jesus' is daubed repeatedly on walls in the towns where he is present. The Romans are starting to take an interest in this preacher. Christ realises that he must now choose whether his own life is more valuable than that of his brother. Old jealousies rear their head as he makes his decision.
The end comes swiftly. Christ is racked with guilt for his role in his brother's death and it is at this point that Pullman takes us on something of a diversion. He has his central character make a long solliloquy on his loss of faith and his belief that the world is not perfect. Christ, unlike Jesus, is a realist in this story and yet, like all realists, Christ has made a decision based on what was best for himself. We find that he has no defence left when confronted with the consequences of his past.
As ever, Pullman uses the close of his book to question the role of the church. He seems to argue through his characters that it creates more problems than it solves but he is mature enough to balance the argument elsewhere in the narrative. It makes for an interesting read although at times it felt rather like the author was speaking through his characters rather than the characters speaking for themselves. Despite this, it is more than just a morality play and it does not shy away from humanising the birth of Christianity.
Friday, 3 September 2010
'Nocturnes' by Kazuo Ishiguro
As ever, Kazuo Ishiguro has presented us with a conundrum. Do we read this work as a set of stories about music? Or do they hold a much deeper meaning? On the surface, we are presented with five tales about getting older but gradually we are forced to confront what that means to each of the characters in these stories.
Ishiguro is on much lighter form in this than in his previous work Never Let Me Go. As proof, there is a frankly hilarious incident in the fourth story involves a turkey and an award for 'jazz musician of the year'. All the stories have such moments, yet all of them invoke a sentimentality for lost youth.
We are confronted by musicians who feel lost in a world where their skills are not in demand. Ishiguro seems to have endless patience for their insecurities. All his characters feel thoroughly human. That is a great credit to the time put into this work. Four years in total.
There are five short stories in this collection:
Crooner reads much like the biography of a member of the rat pack. It is told from the point of view of an observer, a young Polish man just after the fall of the USSR. The young man idolises the crooner of the title yet he bears witness to the collapse of his marriage. His ignorance of Western values becomes clear in his reaction to the divorce, brought about as a result of practicality rather than dislike.
Come Rain or Come Shine is an evocation of a friendship that has long worn past its use. A middle-aged EFL teacher returns to Britain to visit friends, finding himself on the recieving end of some intense and unwanted scrutiny from them. Just as suspected, this is as much a defence mechanism for the couple involved as it is genuine criticism. We are confronted with the ridiculous pace of modern life and how some of us are unbending servants to it.
Malvern Hills follows a musician on an unwilling jaunt to his sister's hotel. After an unfortunate spat with a Swiss couple staying there, he leaves temporarily for the hills with his guitar. The couple follow him and reveal that they are perhaps not quite as aggressive as first appearances suggested. As they talk, they reveal the disappointments of their lives that have led them there. Ishiguro draws on the accounts of many professional musicians about the difficulties of touring in demonstrating how this affects family life.
Nocturne picks up the thread of the last story as a struggling jazz musician is persuaded to have cosmetic surgery to improve his career prospects. During his downtime at a hotel following this, he finds himself confronted by the wife from the first story Crooner. She is drastically changed and both of them find that they are unable to sleep in their current state. On a walk around the hotel, they attempt to recreate some of their better moments yet they are too different to co-operate for long.
Cellists is perhaps the most fascinating of all of them. During the holiday season, a woman invites a young Cellist over to play for her. Through subtle prodding of his technique she reveals a great knowledge of the instrument. Yet, she has not played in many years. He finds that afterwards he cannot play as well without her present. This story explores with fascinating clarity what it is to continue living whilst knowing that your best days are behind you.
The collection is a very worthwhile read. Perhaps not as moving as Remains of the Day or as tragic as Never Let Me Go but extremely impressive nonetheless.
Ishiguro is on much lighter form in this than in his previous work Never Let Me Go. As proof, there is a frankly hilarious incident in the fourth story involves a turkey and an award for 'jazz musician of the year'. All the stories have such moments, yet all of them invoke a sentimentality for lost youth.
We are confronted by musicians who feel lost in a world where their skills are not in demand. Ishiguro seems to have endless patience for their insecurities. All his characters feel thoroughly human. That is a great credit to the time put into this work. Four years in total.
There are five short stories in this collection:
Crooner reads much like the biography of a member of the rat pack. It is told from the point of view of an observer, a young Polish man just after the fall of the USSR. The young man idolises the crooner of the title yet he bears witness to the collapse of his marriage. His ignorance of Western values becomes clear in his reaction to the divorce, brought about as a result of practicality rather than dislike.
Come Rain or Come Shine is an evocation of a friendship that has long worn past its use. A middle-aged EFL teacher returns to Britain to visit friends, finding himself on the recieving end of some intense and unwanted scrutiny from them. Just as suspected, this is as much a defence mechanism for the couple involved as it is genuine criticism. We are confronted with the ridiculous pace of modern life and how some of us are unbending servants to it.
Malvern Hills follows a musician on an unwilling jaunt to his sister's hotel. After an unfortunate spat with a Swiss couple staying there, he leaves temporarily for the hills with his guitar. The couple follow him and reveal that they are perhaps not quite as aggressive as first appearances suggested. As they talk, they reveal the disappointments of their lives that have led them there. Ishiguro draws on the accounts of many professional musicians about the difficulties of touring in demonstrating how this affects family life.
Nocturne picks up the thread of the last story as a struggling jazz musician is persuaded to have cosmetic surgery to improve his career prospects. During his downtime at a hotel following this, he finds himself confronted by the wife from the first story Crooner. She is drastically changed and both of them find that they are unable to sleep in their current state. On a walk around the hotel, they attempt to recreate some of their better moments yet they are too different to co-operate for long.
Cellists is perhaps the most fascinating of all of them. During the holiday season, a woman invites a young Cellist over to play for her. Through subtle prodding of his technique she reveals a great knowledge of the instrument. Yet, she has not played in many years. He finds that afterwards he cannot play as well without her present. This story explores with fascinating clarity what it is to continue living whilst knowing that your best days are behind you.
The collection is a very worthwhile read. Perhaps not as moving as Remains of the Day or as tragic as Never Let Me Go but extremely impressive nonetheless.
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