First Orson’s post on The King’s Speech! It’s just a link, but a good one: Christopher Hitchens takes the film to task on its rather fuzzy understanding of history, specifically the behaviour of Churchill and the royal family before the war. The word “appeasement” appears – one of those fun words that only ever appears in a certain context – and Hitch reminds us how so many British national myths, from the doughty heroism of Churchill to the magical ability of our royal figureheads to produce some quantity of “national unity”, are mostly fantasies. And good on him.
I went to see the film with a friend who said it reminded him of how much he believes in the monarchy. True enough, watching this film will not turn a royalist into a republican. Of course, the film refuses to flatter the royal family; but it does so by pulling that old con trick, “they’re just normal people in a strange situation”, inviting gasps and giggles as we watch these everyday human beings try to live up to the tradition of obeisance they just happened to inherit.
It’s hardly the first bit of screen fiction to “humanise” British royalty – but let’s unpack our need to “humanise” them. Though it seems like irreverence, it really just reconciles royalty to us as an acceptable novelty, neatly brushing aside all those awkward national and political facts that we would rather not confront.
I’ve chosen eight shots I treasure (the last two I regard as among the finest in all of cinema). They’re not all strictly “deep focus” shots, but they do emphasize three-dimensionality in their compositions. I’ve presented them with only minimal identifications so you can simply watch them and see what happens without distraction or interruption. Instead, I’ve decided to write about them below. Feel free to watch the clips and then re-watch (freeze-frame, rewind, replay) the clips to see what you can see. To say they repay re-viewing is an understatement.
If you’re in the UK, you can stream it up until Monday. The first part covers early Hollywood horror, taking in Frankenstein and Dracula and detailing the careers of their respective leads, Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi. As well as Bride of Frankenstein, Son of Frankenstein and… Cat People. That’s all I’ve seen so far. The second apparently covers Hammer Horror and the third, American slasher films.
You may recognise Mark Gatiss’ name from his writing credits on the new Doctor Who, or the face from the national treasure that is The League of Gentlemen – a show that wore a lot of infuences from classic horror.
Here’s a good bit. When I first saw that skit, I couldn’t believe how good it was. Papa Lazarou is a Lynchian horrific patriarch – with the silliness is set up a notch or two, but the menace intact. These guys understood that the right amount of hamminess and camp can leaven horror without diminishing it.
Friend of Orson Kerry Bradshaw (who runs a secret cinema in Bath/Bristol) has just finished making her five-months-in-the-making short documentary about young asylum seekers for Rasp. Go and watch it; it’s free!
Apichatpong ‘call me Joe’ Weerasethakul has taken the 2010 Palme d’Or for Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives. Orson hasn’t seen the film yet, of course, but it’s bloody brilliant that Weerasethakul has gained this kind of exposure. If you haven’t seen it, drop everything and find a copy of Syndromes and a Century, a Lynchian, science fictional, quietist, meditative fantasia that is one of those films critics can’t find the right words for, as I have just demonstrated.
Iron Man 2 is (I attest!) better than Iron Man – because it doesn’t have to bother with all the laborious character-formation that distracts from the utterly, unambiguously Randian superheroics we pay our money for (what are they waiting for?). Poet Ron Silliman thinks otherwise.
Attend to David Milch and you will be rewarded – in this life!
A reminder about one of the best French films I’ve seen in recent years, Heartbeat Detector. Like the comments say, it isn’t quite a masterpiece, but it is driven by ideas, and argues its case rather than junking it all in during the last act, which is rarer than it should be.
This is nothing to do with film, but I link to this recent Oxfordian v. Stratfordian Shakespeare authorship debate because (a) it’s quite comprehensive if you’ve read little previously about the topic, and (b) Orson Welles found J. Thomas Looney, who first suggested the Earl of Oxford was the true author of Shakespeare’s works, very persuasive indeed.
Speaking of Shakespeare, Michael Sheen is taking on Hamlet. Just as exciting is the news that Ian Rickson is directing.
Fritz Lang’s Metropolis is to be released – finally complete! – in September. (Infinitely exciting because probably no one in the world saw Lang’s original version between its 1927 premiere and the footage turning up in a Buenos Aires film vault a couple of years ago.)
If you have $425,500 to spare and morbid interests (alas, I don’t have both!) why not think about moving to Washington? Laura Palmer’s house is for sale.
Not content with Sherlock and Stark, Robert Downey, Jr. may soon have his hands on “The Great Powerful“. Sam Mendes is in talks to direct this Oz-prequel, which presumably counts him out of sadly-indefinitely-delayed Bond 23.
Roger Ebert claims that video games will never be art. I’m not sure I agree. EDIT: I’ve thought about it now and I do agree. Sorry y’all. However, as he asks, why are gamers so adamant that they be recognised as such?
You may or may not be aware of the excellent faux-trailer Hobo With a Shotgun, which was created as a result of a contest to be included as part of the Grindhouse cinema release. If you’re not, go and watch it now. Back? Brilliant, right? Well hold onto your socks, because it’s being made into a feature. With Rutger Hauer! Sweet Jesus!
When will depressio-Scandinavian-maestro Lars Von Trier’s relentless misogyny be satiated? Perhaps after he tortures Kirsten Dunst to the point of breakdown? First Johnny Borrell, now this? What cosmic wrong did the poor lass commit?
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