My Amazing Large New Year Amaze-o-fest Film of the Year Type Post

At the risk of sounding like a complete nerd...urgh, how to put this?  I watch a lot of films.  Like the big geek I am, I enjoy making lists of my favourite things of the year.  A couple of years ago, I realised how hard it was to  make such a list without getting inspiration from loads of critics' "best of" lists, but then my lists ended up not being very me.  So I found a Five Year Diary in John Lewis and now that tracks what films I see in a year.  Not so geeky?  I also have a spreadsheet that I type it all into.  That keeps track of films, scores, directors, works out how many I'll end up seeing in the year based on how many I've already seen, makes graphs of how good years are.  Yeah.  I'm a badass.

So this post is the climax of a year of cinema-going.  Wow.  What an achievement.  Some quick facts.  I saw 202 films this year and went to the cinema 49 times.  Why am I even admitting to this?  My most watched director was Woody Allen (8 films?! I suppose it's because they're all an hour and half and entertaining).  20 films I saw posted a perfect 10.  I saw three films three times (Role Models, Adventureland, Aqua Teen Hunger Force Colon Movie Film for Theaters).  Films I didn't see that will no doubt annoy me with their absence when I finally get round to them include Drive, Tyrannosaur, We Need to Talk About Kevin, the Fighter (blu-ray is sitting on my desk as we speak) and The Skin I Live In.  As this is all relative, beyond the bottom 2, I'd recommend most of these films.  Anyway, let's get this over with.  I think a sentence each for 50-15 will suffice?

51) The Wicker Tree (Robin Hardy) - Oh, what a mess.  A train wreck on Repo Chick levels.  If this movie is lucky, people will end up loving its unintentional humour.
50) Anonymous (Roland Emmerich) - The sole highlight was the hilarious assassination attempt sequence where one man could read the assassin's intent completely by his bizarro stare.
49) Green Lantern (Martin Campbell) - If only this was a Hector Hammond film. Peter Sarsgaard picks this film up and launches it out of the ball park.
48) My Week With Marilyn (Simon Curtis) - So Me & Orson Welles was ignored on release and people went bat-shit over this confused and poorly constructed twaddle?  Life never ceases to amaze me.
47) Mother's Day (Darren Lynn Bousman) - I was so surprised by how good the opening 45 minutes were.  I was so surprised by the comic book violence in the last 15, especially after the dull torture porn section.
46) The Awakening (Nick Murphy) - Sigh.  Dominic West and Rebecca Hall.  Why doesn't this film work? Very nice shot of a train early on.
45) Your Highness (David Gordon Green) - Possibly the least funny and most horrific opening 10 minutes I saw all year.  It could never recover full after that, but it makes a good effort (almost like the Canadian WJ team against Russia).
44) The Thing (Matthijs van Heijningen Jr) - There were two moments where I found myself impressed with this rather unimaginative prequel/reboot: face rubbing and the ending.
43) The Green Hornet (Michel Gondry) - I am convinced that Seth Rogen cannot succeed as a leading man.  That being said, I am convinced that he could be paired with a pane of glass and critics would rave about their chemistry.  Jay Chou and Waltz equally try very hard, but the films ultimately feels flat and uninspired.
42) X-Men: First Class (Matthew Vaughn) - Next time, more Fassbender hunting Nazis please?  Bacon rocks equally well.  Finally convinced me that January Jones is perfect as an emotionally stunted housewife in Mad Men because she is an emotionally stunted actress in Hollywood.
41) Last Screening (Laurent Achard) - First entry of my BFI LFF films.  A nice little French giallo.  Not that scary, not that polished, but very tense and atmospheric.
40) Last Night (Massy Tadjedin) - Oh, the troubled lives of the upper classes.  Very heavy handed, but Keira Knightley impresses in what seems to be the latest arc of her career (the respectable period).
39) Kill List (Ben Wheatley) - I wish that I could shout "THE EMPEROR HAS NO CLOTHES!" over and over again at this film, but the first half is incredible.  I haven't seen an ending retroactively make me dislike a film this much since David Fincher's the Game.
38) Paul (Greg Mottola) - Completely worth it for Kristen Wiig's cussing alone.  Really shows that Messrs Pegg and Frost compromised all to happily on their script.
37) The King's Speech (Tom Hooper) - I seem to be alone in thinking that Geoffrey Rush deserved the Oscar over Firth.  I wish old Colin had won for A Single Man.
36) Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (Guy Ritchie) - Very much more of the same but now with added Jared Harris who definitely distracts from the fact that this film is far less surprising and interesting in its plot machinations than the first.
35) Thor (Kenneth Branagh) - I love Dutch angles and Kat Dennings.  It's a very silly superhero romp, but it was nice seeing a comic book movie villain with a bit of ambiguity.
34) The Deep Blue Sea (Terence Davies) - Homewrecker! Some nice moments, but the very confused editing kills the opening thirty minutes.
33) Texas Killing Fields (Ami Canaan Mann) - Succeeds very well when it allows the actors to do their job and play off each other.  Shame the plot is intent on driving them all apart.
32) The Rum Diary (Bruce Robinson) - I really think that Johnny Depp is way too close to the source material to have made this film work.  Some great moments, but strangely characterless.
31) Melancholia (Lars Von Trier) - First half is mostly fantastic with a couple of bum notes, second half is taut but ultimately pointless, which I guess is the point.  Paradox!
30) Karen Cries on the Bus (Gabriel Rojas Vera) - A lovely little film about a woman trying to find worth outside of her marriage.  Very much a slight art house film, but surprisingly warm and intelligent for a debut.
29) Cedar Rapids (Miguel Arteta) - Ahh, morality in insurance.  Something I see often.  I wish I did a mean Omar from the Wire, which reminds me I still need to buy that Wire boxset.  Slight but fun with a good heart.
28) Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (Tomas Alfredson) - I really need to see this again.  Despite all the praise, I just couldn't get invested in this film.  The great performances go without saying, but unfortunately it all feels very meaningless.
27) A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas (Todd Strauss-Schulson) - This almost made me feel festive, which is quite the boast as the only film to do that is Batman Returns.
26) Julie's Eyes (Guillem Morales) - It's definitely not hitting the lofty heights of the Orphanage, but the Hitchcockian supernatural thriller definitely succeeds.  An nice little gem for those who hunt it down.
25) Wuthering Heights (Andrea Arnold) - The younger actors impress, but this adaptation suffers from the fact that Wuthering Heights is three books in one and would need a three hour running time.
24) True Grit (Ethan Coen, Joel Coen) - Coens do the West.  Treading ground would be overly cruel, but this is definitely harbours a great deal of their traditional whimsy.
23) The Screen Illusion (Mathiew Amalric) - Incredibly similar to the Hamlet adaptation staring Ethan Hawke but surprisingly effective.
22) The Adjustment Bureau (George Nolfi) - Men in hats!
21) Captain America: The First Avenger (Joe Johnston) - My fetish for all things Art Deco continues!  Definitely the most successful family adventure film of the year.
20) Blue Valentine (Derek Cianfrance) - Stunning performances from the two leads, but unfortunately the decision to turn Gosling's character into a monster damages the impact of this film.  Still completely worthwhile.
19) Another Earth (Mike Cahill) - The more successful of the sudden appearance of other planet films.
18) Black Swan (Darren Aronofsky) - So Mr Aronofsky finally got to make his full-on homage to Perfect Blue.  Awkwardly caught between serious psychological profile and daft horror fun.  I wonder more if he is going to close out a loose trilogy of films about dedication and if so, what with?
17) Bridesmaids (Paul Feig) - One of the few broad American comedies I enjoy!  Wiig and Maya Rudolph are a delight and finally proof that Chris O'Dowd is funny when he's not gurning for laughs.
16) 127 Hours (Danny Boyle) - One day Franco will force peace and undying love onto the world, but for now, we'll just have to make do with humdingers like this performance.

15) 13 Assassins (Takeshi Miike)
So now onto the upper crust.  As you can tell from above, I enjoy reading my own thoughts on films, so here come more words and sentences on that subject.  Takeshi Miike is a very odd film maker.  If you have a passing interest in world cinema, you'll probably already know about his prolific output.  Sometimes I think this is the only reason he is famous because, Lord knows, it really affects his films.  Out of the six directorial efforts of his that I've seen, two thirds of them definitely suffer from a rushed ending.  Connecting the dots, I assume that in editing, he is already so excited by his next film that he loses interest in his current one.  Yes, I assume him to be like a six year old distracted by something shiny.  13 Assassins doesn't fit that mould at all.  Not only does this feel more like a complete film that his other work, but his incredibly frantic energy seems conspicuously absent also.  Fortunately this doesn't hurt.  The film is a remake of a 1963 film of the same title and it seems that Miike has been influenced by that more staid and slow paced era of cinema.  Thankfully, not all of his personality has been removed by this altered style.  His love of gore and his dark humour are still there by the bucket load, especially in the last act.  As a testament to how entertaining this film is, when I went to see it a couple of weeks after it opened, it was still playing to a full house with some customers commenting on how this was the second or third time they'd seen it.  Try and hunt it down as I doubt you'd ever see Miike direct with such confidence without having to resort to the excessively odd.


14) Source Code (Duncan Jones)
It is currently a very exciting time for low-to-mid budget science fiction.  Sure, everyone can point at Inception as a current high water point of the genre at large, but truth be told, the more interesting work is being done by a trio of less famous directors (Duncan Jones, Shane Carruth and, soon to join them, Rian Johnson).  Shane Carruth's strikingly obtuse and original Primer is definitely the most individual of the completed works of this group, but the most accomplished was Moon, a rightly hyped film directed by Duncan Jones.  What really struck with this film was how it captured the wonderfully sparse and paranoid atmosphere of science fiction films from the 1970s but without being a mere pastiche (as many have argued that the current released the Artist is).  So, I was a big fan of Moon and looked forward to this greatly.  Whereas it could be argued that it doesn't as accomplished a work as Moon, it shows Duncan Jones to be an incredibly versatile filmmaker.  Sure, this film is another science fiction piece and yes, it still feels rather like the 1970s, but I could not imagine two more wildly different films under such a tight scope.  Whereas Moon felt like a Ridley Scott/Stanley Kubrick collaboration with more warmth (but still sparse on the dialogue), this is a heady mix of Hitchcock, Groundhog Day and the Towering Inferno.  Jones excels visually here (the opening tracking shots are stunning), but shows great ability in directing his cast (with the exception of Jeffrey Wright who comes across far too villainous).  What I have loved most about his work is that both his films contain elements that, in less capable hands, could appear as gimmicky twists, but he uses them as an intelligent way to develop the story in a completely unforeseen manner.  If his statements regarding his next film (allegedly his last science fiction piece) are true, then make sure you mark down the release date in your calendar.  It is incredibly rare to see a director so developed at this point in his career.


13) Cold Weather (Aaron Katz)
So Sherlock Holmes was dropped into two films this year.  First there was Guy Ritchie's sequel to his bizarrely successful action romp (see #36), but closer to the preconception of most people's idea of our favourite deerstalker-wearing detective was this little gem.  Considering how many reviews lead with the joy of the Holmes-esque sleuthing, it is a little surprising how long this film takes to get to that aspect of the plot.  Unfortunately, the promise of intrigue and mystery definitely makes the first half of the film feel a bit restless.  Thankfully though, this really is a film that inhabits its very own world and draws you in part due to the fantastic characterisations present.  This is a deceptively interesting film and once it had settled into its own pace, I was hooked.

12) Hugo (Martin Scorsese)
I wish I could put this higher.  Let's make no bones about this, I loved this movie.  In fact, I was so emotionally engaged with it that I sobbed on more than a few occasions during its 128 minute running time.  So why isn't it higher?  Because other things exist in this film other than Ben Kingsley.  He is absolutely perfect and there is an awful lot to love in his performance alone.  Unfortunately, the more melodramatic lines in the script fall flat, especially when uttered by the younger members of the cast.  Also the "adventure" section of the plot is neither as interesting, involving or passionate as the moments where Scorsese focuses on sharing his love of cinema.  Like a dreamy mix between Cinema Paradiso and the Adventures of Baron Munchausen, the film still delights when tapping into the joys of creativity and imagination.


11) Submarine (Richard Ayoade)
Being a big fan of Garth Marenghi's Darkplace, I was excited when I first spied Ayoade's name on a huge-mangous poster on the tube.  Although the styling is very different, there is great similarity conceptually between these two projects in that Ayoade has established himself as a master of visual pastiche. Whereas his work on the aforementioned television series was firmly rooted in low budget 80s television and Stephen King adaptations, this is a very offbeat and British take on Truffaut.  In a year where we've seen some incredible performances from younger actors, the central pairing of Craig Roberts and Yasmin Paige as the offbeat, somewhat destructive couple in this coming-of-age tale tops my list.  In fact, the entire ensemble is supremely talented.

10) Silver Bullets (Joe Swanberg)
Unlike most people, I don't have a huge issue with mumblecore.  Strangely though, despite my love of Andrew Bujalski, I've never really specifically sought out any film in this terribly defined genre.  So this was the first film I've seen from the extremely prolific Joe Swanberg and, although there are definitely issues with this film, I don't think people give him enough credit for just how interesting and well-thought out his films can be.  The plot revolves around Joe Swanberg, Kate Lyn Sheil and horror director Ti West playing versions of themselves.  Joe plays a pretentious low-budget director, Ti plays an up-and-coming horror director, Kate plays an actress dating Joe but caught imbetween them both artistically and romantically.  People may not like his work, but Joe Swanberg is an incredibly brave and self-aware director.  I think few people could tackle their own issues and anxieties on-screen without having to doll up the people and situations involved in metaphor and other forms of layering.  Though the unprofessional sheen may test some viewers' patience, I feel more compelled and excited by the approach Swanberg takes to movie making.  Hell, I find it down right inspirational how much he can achieve with so little equipment.   (On an extra note, this film possesses a fantastic soundtrack and poster).


9) Moneyball (Bennett Miller)
As I've stated before on this blog, I don't understand baseball very well.  Fortunately however, an understanding of the game isn't needed to become invested in the drama of watching a group of people try and take on the status quo with far more limited means.  This isn't the most complex or thought provoking film I saw this year by any stretch, but it is very well put together work.  The writing is snappy and intelligent, the acting incredibly sharp (even if Brad Pitt is well on his way to becoming Robert Redford) and the whole thing is held together by Miller's taut directing.


8) Senna (Asif Kapadia)
Ayrton Senna is an incredibly polarising figure.  He certainly changed Formula One motor racing both through what he achieved as a driver and the consequences of his death, and it can be argued that some of which was not necessarily for the better.  This however, is not to detract on how awe-inspiring a human being he was and Asif Kapadia cuts straight to the heart of this.  Similar to many other recent successful sports documentaries, the liberal editing certainly presents only a half truth, but this doesn't change how humorous, fantastic and emotional a narrative the viewer is taken through.  For a F1 fan, there's a whole bucket load of race footage and rare behind-the-scene views of the politics of the paddock to geek out about, but much like Moneyball above, this is not a film that requires an intimate knowledge of the sport.  This is simply a story about a man wanted to be recognised as the greatest at what he did and the challenges he faced both on and off the track.  I don't think there's a more excruciating moment in film this year that the onboard footage at Imola.  Kapadia is incredibly brave to let that footage play out.


7) Take Shelter (Jeff Nicols)
This film is so complex and well developed that I'm sure that my terribly strung together words can't do it justice.  All I will endeavour to say is that there is a mere handful of characters that I care more deeply for than the family at the centre of the storm in this film.  The characters are so incredibly well fleshed out and a lot of that is due to the incredible performances of Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain.  The ending is a tad polarising, but I was fortunate to hear an interpretation of it that really connected with me.

6) 50/50 (Jonathan Levine)
Delicious cappuccinos.  I make no bones about it, Joseph Gordon-Levitt is one of my favourite actors and has been ever since Mysterious Skin.  On the other hand, however, Seth Rogen is definitely someone I have a love/hate relationship with.  That's not to say I don't find him funny, because that wouldn't be true.  Hell, most of the quotes I share with friends are his from Pineapple Express. Hell again, if I had a friend that acted like Seth Rogen, I'd probably hang out with him all the time, but for some reason I end up not loving the films that he features heavily.  Mystery.  Fortunately, I don't think I saw a funnier film than this all year and I can say that Seth Rogen is a big part of that. Also extra bonus points go to this film for using The Other Side of Mt. Heart Attack.  I pretty much cry when I hear that song on its own, so imagine how emotional I got when it appeared in this film!

5) Kaboom (Gregg Araki)
I don't think I have smiled so hard and for so long in a film than I did for this film.  Funny, riotous, exciting.  Don't go expecting a revelatory message, but do if you want to see a film maker going completely full pelt.

4) The Future (Miranda July)
I was very fortunately to watch this with the film maker in attendance for a Q&A session to follow the film.  I hadn't seen Miranda July's other film and I was walking into this one with very limited knowledge about it.  I had seen the trailer almost by accident a couple of days prior to the screening.  The trailer concerned me.  The trailer look awful.  I'm so glad that I didn't let that scare me off this film, because it is a wonderfully funny and moving portrait of the hurt that people can inflict when they're scared.  I've heard people say that you only really know what you're like when you're put in a vulnerable position.  Usually, they're talking about situations of great stress.  Whether that's in a war or when you lose a loved one, it doesn't matter, but people seem to ignore the seemingly innocuous moments that can redefine who you are as a person.  The entire chain of events depicted in this film is set off when a couple decide to adopt a stray and injured cat.  This decision ends up completely shattering their life.  I really need to see Ms July's other film because if it is even half as imaginative and inventive as this film, I'm sure I'd love it.  This film definitely contains one of my favourite depictions of heartbreak in any piece of art.

3) Midnight in Paris (Woody Allen)
I really don't understand how anyone wasn't charmed by this film.  I was lucky enough to see it twice and the audience reacted very differently both times (seems like people in Cumbria didn't find Hemingway's manner of speech very funny, but people did think it was acceptable to act like a living Cliff notes for their friends who weren't aware of the Fitzgeralds or Man Ray).  My reaction didn't change, I was completely enthralled throughout.  I am definitely guilty of believing that if I had lived in another age, all my problems would disappear (hell, if I had it my way, life would look like the Stark Expo in Captain America).  The film definitely says it right; it's a minor insight, but that doesn't mean it isn't a worthwhile one.  I had a very similar idea for a script (though mine involved the Berlin film scene of the 30s), but I can't be too angry with Mr Allen as this is definitely one of his better works in the last decade.  I think what really makes it work is that, although some of his other films lately have been more adventurous in terms of plotting and characters, this never feels like it is retreading old ground despite it's more familiar Allen-isms.

2) Rabbit Hole (John Cameron Mitchell)
I don't think I have the words in me to do this film justice.  John Cameron Mitchell really surprised me with this film.  I had previously only seen Shortbus, which I found to be interesting but problematic and I've never got round to seeing Hedwig and the Angry Inch.  Given the content of those two films, a small character piece based around a couple trying to navigate their relationship after the death of a young child comes somewhat out of left field, but he shows to be an extremely capable and mature director.  Unlike Blue Valentine, another film about a troubled relationship, this film excels in not making a villain of either party and is all the better for it.  A truly simultaneously upsetting and heart-warming film.

1) Never Let Me Go (Mark Romanek)
Mortality is something that we all have to face.  True, it is rare for the younger to spend their time pontificating and worrying about the other side, but I certainly know that my thoughts will drift there, at least at a shallow depth, from time to time.  Fortunately, we don't have strict expiration dates, so we don't have to concern ourselves with the pressure of our limited time.  How much life we have in front of us is a complete mystery, so the time spent worrying is mostly a waste of time unless it is inspiring you to take better care of yourself or to use the time you have in a more satisfying manner.  On the whole, providing we are lucky enough to be healthy, we all take our time, not necessarily for granted, but at a lax pace.  We don't run to reach our goals, we allow the path to develop naturally.  Our passions and personalities develop through trial and error.  Our loves and lives are a wonderfully ill-defined adventure that ends up defining us.  We don't sit and think at age 12, I may only have 14 years left, best get a move on if I'm to achieve all I want...

...but, what if that wasn't the case?

My friend's other selves and other musings

This last weekend, I went with a dear friend to see Another Earth.  Now this next sentence may be shocking, but please stick with it.  Part of the plot involves the discovery of another Earth.  Now that bombshell has dropped, let me add some more detail.  This Earth-2 is identical to ours including the people.  So on these two Earths, there are two of me, two of you and two of everyone else.  This is a big deal in the film, causing a lot of pontification from people and philosophers alike (yes, philosophers aren't people).  This wasn't a big deal for my friend however, as he told me over a post cinema coffee and cake.  He's practically surrounded by other versions of himself.

Now, when he told me this over coffee, I was just as confused as you no doubt are.  Well, that's not entirely true.  At first I was thinking "wow, my friend is a closet egotist, I didn't realise he was so vain."  Before I could follow on from his bizarre remark, he very kind prefaced his next barrage with "I don't mean that in a vain, I see myself everywhere kind of way...".  Gee, silly me, what other way to take it?

So, my friend (let's call him C Eigeman to protect his identity - no, wait, too easy to guess, Chris E) enlightened me to his odd circumstances.  Let's paint the scene somewhat; Chris E is fairly easy going guy, which is what makes the insanity that follows seem a tad displaced.  He's okay looking, nothing spectacular, but very friendly, good to be around.  I think he works for a graphical design company but in an admin capacity.  I'm not sure, I really don't know him that well.  We met at party of a mutual friend and he likes films too, so I see him once, maybe twice a month for a cinema trip.

I relax my raised eyebrow and allow him to expand upon his opening statement.  I'm anticipating some nonsense about fashion adverts styling his style and how he wore plaid shirts before anyone else could have possibly heard of them.  So yeah, I'm anticipating the worst.  I take a long and bold sip of coffee as he opens his mouth.

"So, my reflection has a life of its own."

I put my coffee cup back on its saucer.  It's a large cup and, I'm not going to lie, I can admit I'm a bit out of shape, so I struggle to keep the coffee from spilling while I place the cup down.  "Sorry?"

"My reflection, like in a mirror, not me.  Looks like me y'know, but the dude has his own life to deal with."

"Nope, you've lost me."

So I sat there and had Chris explain things to me.  Turns out that he's face is strangely asymmetrical.  It just happens that when reflect, he looks like a young Adonis.  Chris first noticed the discrepency between his own and his reflections fortunes when he was around seven years of age.  His school had a competition for Chinese New Year.  Kids had to dress up in either traditional costume or as their sign of the Chinese zodiac.    Chris came home with a sticker for 3rd place, his reflection came back with a trophy for first.

It was pretty cool for a while.  Basically Chris had an extra friend when he was washing his hands or cleaning his teeth.  Things got a bit darker when he went to university (I'm going to say Leeds, but I was only half listening to details - I was eating a really fucking good cake at the time).  He remembered going through a pretty rough break up in his first year, so he went out to get completely smashed with friends, go clubbing, go flirting, "spread some oats" as he put it.  Anyway, not a successful night on Chris' part.  What made it worse was that Chris had a presentation to give at a seminar the next day.  He went to the bathroom to shave.  This proved difficult as his mirror was filled with all kinds of flesh and pieces of anatomy that would be blurred out if they were on television at that time of day.

"Jesus Christ man," Chris said to himself, "I'm trying to shave here!"

"I'm not stopping you," the other Chris replied, snorting coke off some privileged lady's back.

"Hopefully, those girls weren't missing their reflections," I commented, feeling very happy with myself at pointing out this bizarre inconsistency.

"Hey, you joke but I've had times when my reflection has disappeared for weeks on end.  I'm stuck in my shitty job, my supermodel reflection is jetting off to LA and back.  I've already come to terms with the fact that one day my reflection will pass out and choke on his own vomit.  It's fucked up."

"Yeah, I really feel for you."  Yikes, sometimes my sarcasm even surprises myself.  "Anyway, you said you were surrounded.  I hardly feel you talking to your own reflection justifies 'surrounded'."

"You remember where we met Ben?"

"Yeah, so much so I remembered to mention it early in this blog post."

"You remember seeing me drinking?"

I rewound my brain.  I certainly remember seeing myself drink a lot.  I remember speaking to Chris.  Nope, no idea.

"No?  Did I?" Hestitancy was the best I could offer.

"No you didn't.  Do you want to know why that is?"

"Not especially, but I'm sure you'll tell me anyway," I snapped back.

"Well, something happens when I drink, beyond just getting drunk.  I kind of change into someone else."

I could relate.  I am somewhat of a messy drunk.

Chris continued.  "I might physically turn into Rutherford Hayes..."

"Who?"

"What are you, uneducated?  The 19th President of the United States."

Well that's completely novel, I thought to myself.  "And what's that like?"

"It's a mixed bag really Ben.  At first he was really excited and besotted by new technology, so I ended up doing and seeing things I wouldn't have done otherwise.  Problem is I don't remember it.  As time has gone on, he's become more and more jaded about technology and modern life.  There is one thing he loves doing though.  He loves watching Jeff Goldblum movies on demand.  I stayed at a Holiday Inn once.  I don't know how he managed to watch five of them in an evening, but I had to pay it at the front desk the next day.  I couldn't look the receptionist in the eyes."

And this is the story of my friend Chris E (actually, I think I prefer C Eigeman after all).

------------------------------------
Other musings

I don't know Chris Eigeman, but after watching him for the better part of an hour and a half today in Metropolitan today, I thought I had to get a reference in.  I am in love with that film.  I need to see me more Whit Stillman.

In other exciting film news, I had a strange double bill of the Thing remake remake and Encounters at the End of the World, which made for lots of looking at snow.  One is much superior to the other.  I'll leave you to guess which.

I actually did see Another Earth with another human being and that was the lovely Ms Ella Hashemi (who can be found here http://apprentice42.wordpress.com/ ).  I thought I'd kindly remove her from the story as see is definitely not as mad as the fictional Chris.

I'm playing chess over the phone with a friend.  Five moves in.

This time next week, I'll be going to bed in preparation for my last day at work before Christmas.

This time tomorrow, I'll have made my return to the cocktail bar from a few posts ago.  A friend reliably informs me that the bar is actually a refurbished toilet.  The things one learns eh?

Now to bed!  I am so close to finishing my Woody Allen book!  Then I'll be moving on to either Hemingway or the Complete Book of Chess Strategy.  I have to work out a way to beat my friend at some point.  (I think he is up a career 3-0 on me).

My Dirty Iron and other musings

Being the cool cat that I am, on Monday night, I had a date with my iron.  I'm not going to lie, I have a dirty iron.  It's filthy.  It's just one of the many curses I have left over from an old relationship.  This relationship didn't run a smooth course and the ending was similarly tumultuous.  The last time I saw the lady in question, she was packaging and taking her things from our shared apartment in Manchester.  She packed in silence, which was fine by me.  Her packing was just as messy as how she lived.  After a tense 45 minutes, she picked up the last box and headed to the door.  That's when it happened.  She turned sharply (and most fetchingly, I must say), rested her box on her hip and opened her mouth.  Out it came; a torrent of insults, profanity and most importantly curses.  One of the more imaginative ones she came out with was stuck between a descriptive fiction of what I should do when she left and then a direct comparison of me and her new lover.

"And may your iron be filthy!"

And so it was.  I've got to say it was quite a shock the next time I used it.  It was a Sunday and I was sprucing up a shirt for work the next day.  As is usually the case after a break up, I had stuck Swingers into the DVD player.  All was normal.  I was chuckling at all the right points, getting through the shirts a bit quicker than usual, but nothing abnormal.  Then it happened.  There's a point in the film about 20-25 minutes in where Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau meet these two ladies in a bar.  They are two very pretty ladies, one of them is dressed like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.  So, I'm standing there, ironing, and then I hear it.

"Nice cans toots!"

At first I was too busy ironing to really acknowledge anything.  To be fair, I was on a roll.  One and a half shirts done in 20 minutes?  Unheard of.  In the zone.

"Oh what a world, what a world.  I'd like to show her my horse of a different colour, if you catch my drift."

I think that one got my attention just because of how baffling it was.  Really?  A horse of a different colour as a dick substitute?  So yeah, I was a bit concerned.  I put the iron to one side and went to investigate the house.  As soon as I left the room, another comment was made.  No Wizard of Oz puns this time, just utterances of things being stuck in places with a few f'bombs dropped for good measure.  I turned sharply, I stared down the iron, which remained silent.  I sighed.  Obviously the stresses of life had got to me.  I turned to head towards the couch.

"Yeah, keep walking pussy."

And it was at this point that I realised that my iron was filthy.

This was a shocking and troubling revelation.  What would the neighbours think?  I was having a dinner party on Saturday with friends from the gallery, what would they think?  Sure, it was kitschsy and they would love that, but I was trying to make my name with gorgeous landscapes, not pop art.  I did the only thing I could.  I threw it out of the window into a conveniently placed bin.

After a couple of weeks, the crumpled shirts were starting to pile up.  I popped to the store, came back home with a new iron (and a couple of fuses, plug adapters, balsa wood, a small zebra and four hot dogs, but I digress).  All was well at least for the first two shirts, then the insults started.

"Hey choirboy, what the fuck do you call that?"

"Way to wreck a shirt retard.  I wouldn't dress my cat in that!"

Damn, it got annoying.  I tried everything short of washing its mouth out with soap (yeah, irons don't have mouths, but I did scrub its sole pretty hard).  I eventually learnt to deal with it.  He's a good friend to watch shitty movies and sports with and when I moved abroad a couple of years ago, it was nice to have at least one constant with me.  Hell, there are worse curses I could have.  I knew a guy from Buffalo, real nice guy, worked with him on a couple of jobs.  He was cursed.  He hiccuped (and loudly too I might add) anytime anyone in his vicinity said "blackberry".  Wasn't too bad a few years ago, but man, is it making his life hell in the office these days.

-------------------------------
Other musings

Yes, I didn't have anything interesting to talk about, so I made up stuff.  Happy?  You drove me to it!  Like I know anything about ironing!

Last month was the most popular month for hits.  We've all done very well this month.  Let's keep up the effort and there may be bonuses discussed at the end of December.

Christmas Party tonight.  I will be in a tux.  This makes me happy.

The Fabio Memorial Cup, a movie marathon and other musings

A lot of people don't know this, but I used to race cars.  Mostly small time, local events involving banged up Ladas and banged up trees.  I never made it to the show, but I did get close once.  The year was 1972, I remember it vaguely.  I was in the library, enjoying a pint of vermouth (as was the fashion of the time).  I was reading The Joys of Sex and was partaking in the joys of making eyes at the librarian.  She was making eyes back, but they weren't nearly as friendly as mine.  It was as I was feeling a bit dejected that a man in overalls and a crash helmet ran in, followed by four more in overalls.  The first man took off his helmet, threw it at the other men and then dove into the non-fiction crime section.  I looked concerned, but the librarian had it covered.  She pulled her shotgun from under the desk and unloaded it into the ceiling.  Everyone froze, except the chased man who scurried up the shelves and out through a clerestory window.

"See here old fruits, what on earth do you think is going on here?!"  Christ, her tone was as sharp and authoritarian as her eyes.  I was smitten.

The group surrounding the crime non-fiction shelf looked sheepish.  All it took was a suggestive motion of the librarian's chin and one of them stood forward.  Not of his own accord of course, who'd want to face that fury?  No, he was pushed by his three colleagues.

He explained that the man who escaped through the window was the soon to be great Juan Alessandro Galilei. I'd heard of him.  He was a driver with great potential.  Just a bit gutless apparently.  Turns out that the American brute Dan Galloway was listed to race in the Fabio Memorial Cup race.  Old Dan was a man with no potential, but he did have the habit of using his car as a battering ram and Juan had made some choice words about Dan's old lady.  So now they were down on racing driver.  I may have coolly and collectedly modestly mentioned my experience, or I may have jumped up on the table and shouted "Me! Me! I race real good!  I make the people go behind me!".  Yeah, choose your own adventure folks.

Next think I know, I'm slammed down into some pointy looking open wheel car.  The expectation was gigantic.  The whole garage of mechanics gave me a pep talk simultaneously.  It was deafening.  I made my way to the grid.  I was right next to Dan Galloway.  I was wearing Juan's helmet.  Suddenly I questioned why I volunteered for this.  I looked to my right.  Dan made a cut throat sign.  I gulped.  The lights were beginning to change.  Dan had his steering wheel locked left.  I did the only thing that made sense.  When the lights came on, I stuck the car into reverse.  Dan went straight into another driver.  Red flags.  Race cancelled.  A personal success I feel.

The mechanics weren't too sore about it.  They let me keep the car, which came in handy 39 years later when I decided to see 5 films in one weekend.  Time was of the essence, so those top speeds came in handy.  I managed to see them all and here's how they lined up (in chronological order):

1) 50/50 - Seth Rogen and Joe Gordon-Levitt in Jonathan Levine's "based on true events" cancer comedy.  This is a damn solid movie.  I'm not going to lie, it's a bit close to home, but fortunately all the tears in this film were incredibly well earned - none felt exploitative (well, except the use of Liars' The Other Side of Mt Heart Attack - one of my favourite melancholic songs ever).  Mr Gordon-Levitt is always a god send and it was nice to see Seth Rogen in a well judged side kick role again (versatility isn't his strong point, but he's on form here).  In fact, it's hard to say anything bad at all about the casting.  In addition, Will Reiser's script is the right parts hilarious and sombre.

2) My Week With Marilyn - Wow, what a wreck.  Beyond the costumes, everything disappoints, even Michelle Williams (though she is the highlight of the film).  It is completely beyond me why anyone is speaking about this film when Me & Orson Welles was criminally ignored.  Eddie Redmayne plays a character who, in an opening narration, tells us that he loves film and really wants to work in cinema and production.  He then proceeds to get a job (oh, isn't it nice to be rich and have connections) and every action he commits after this can only lead to the conclusion that he doesn't love film at all.  He comes across as a fickle and completely infuriating person, which isn't a problem, except that the film carries on presenting him as a naive and sensitive human being.  He is neither, he's just an idiot.

3) Moneyball - I've been looking forward to this so long!  It didn't disappoint.  Well, I say that.  It didn't hit it out of the park (get it? It's baseball innit!) but I was so impressed.  A very well constructed movie (nice use of both real footage and ultra stylised slow-mo).  I appreciate the approach of the film in regards the acting and how it mimics the subject matter (Jonah Hill being serious?  Scott Hatteberg on first?).  What was odd was that this is the first time since 13 Assassins that I was sitting in a near full cinema.  Baseball film?  In the UK?  Full house?  Definitely kept the crowd entertained though.

4) Take Shelter - God damn, I fell in love with that family unit.  I didn't want anything bad to happen to them.  In fact, so much so that I'll believe Filmspotting's tad reaching interpretation of the ending, just because it makes things more nice for them.  The trio of Michael Shannon, Jessica Chastain (wow, it's been like a whole two weeks since we saw her, where have you been?) and Tova Stewart (the little girl) are incredible, and fortunately so, as they are the movie.  Such an incredibly tense and claustrophobic story.

5) The Deep Blue Sea - Nice way to finish this marathon, a fun bit of melodrama.  I was a tad worried at the start (the editing was suspect during the first twenty minutes), but it picked up and was quite enjoyable for the rest.  Some entertaining lines, some not so great lines.  Some good outfits, some not so good music cues.  After seeing this and Flare Path earlier in the year, I'm definitely enticed to find out more about Terence Rattigan.

----------------------------------------
Other Musings:

I'm currently eating Milk Duds with a nice hot coffee.  This combo is okay in my book.

Christmas party on Friday.  I really need to remember to iron my shirt.  I'm quite excited, if only for the fact that my tux makes me look like I should be on set for the Artist, being silent and tap dancing.

http://hw.libsyn.com/p/4/2/a/42a2e01cfd3cb3a9/fs368_bonus.mp3?sid=c1dba473f227fd81d9e9d6c228a6220b&l_sid=17938&l_eid&l_mid=2744370&expiration=1322433067&hwt=60d90b5633db77a08747a8e4fb0dbe8b - is the link for that Filmspotting Take Shelter ending opinion.  Definite spoilers.


I'm not even filmed out yet.  Tomorrow has some Berlin Alexanderplatz and Road to Perdition lined up.


Awesome jogging/exercise/mediation planned for tomorrow!

Pseudo-fiction, a comparison and other musings

Now, my memory might be hazy, but the rain that was threatening the evening as I arrived had definitely parted ways with the West End by the time I left.   I wasn't planning on sticking around either.  The night had definitely gone on too long.  I'm not sure when this realisation dawned on me.  Was it between the fourth and fifth innings of Manhattans?  Or perhaps when I was on the small stage singing 'Hotel California' with a gang of fetching transvestites.  Regardless, there definitely came a point when I could see four cocktails in front of my at the bar, which is odd because I usually order them by the pair.

I climbed up the stairs, emerging from the dank cocktail bar into the fresh London air.  It had gone one in the morning, and not being in complete control of my faculties, a brisk walk seemed on the cards.  That was until I came across a bike.  £1.00 of my money for an hours worth of time!  What great value it would have been had I not got lost.  The problem with all transports quicker than feet is that one can travel so far in completely the wrong direction.  As stated previously, my faculties were not currently in my possession, so it took an hour for me to be able to admit how unfamiliar my surroundings were.  It was true revelatory experience.  I felt like a better man.

All this led to one conclusion; I'd have to find the nearest telephone box and call my solicitor.  I was sure that at 2am, she would love to hear that I couldn't make our appointment at noon.  Shame too, she had a wit that exceeded her fine legs.  That's when it hit me, I found a safety net.  An incredibly fortuitous prostitute had put a map on her call-up card.  I found my way to the main road, ditched the bike and walked for 4 hours.  I put my keys into the door, tore my boots off and ran upstairs to start a blog post comparing my recent experiences watching the Rum Diary to my recent experiences watching Chico & Rita.

Both are films, both feature sharp suits and sharper tunes, however, one of them is a fair more successful film than the other.  Let's get rid of the suspense, the Rum Diary, although not disinteresting, is definitely the more dispassionate affair, which is odd considering the close relationship Johnny Depp had with Hunter S. Thompson.  It's a very polished and professional piece, but strangely distant.  There are fantastic performances throughout, but Mr Depp's Paul Kemp is always at an arm's distance and for no great reason. It's almost as if Mr Depp holds Hunter S. Thompson with such regard that his performance brings a stately disposition to his friend, but little of the wit and humour that was evident in his writings.

On the other hand, I can't say enough pleasant things about Chico & Rita.  A truly heart warming romance that, while possessing a few plot points that don't completely satisfy, is a completely breathtaking visual and audio experience.  As has been discussed previously on the blog, I am a complete sucker for most period pieces set between the 20s and 60s.  Hats man, people looked better in hats.  Anyway, I was completely drawn into the world presented by Javier Mariscal.  I would kill to have any of the frames of this movie on my wall.

------------------------------------

Other musings:

Not all of what I wrote above is true, but I certainly did have a time getting back from a cocktail bar on Tuesday night.  My legs and back have seized up so I will make sure to do some stretches before bed tonight.

I'm thinking about getting dental insurance.  I can't decide how this makes me feel.

I have an incredible weekend of film lined up this weekend.  50/50 on Friday and then My Week With Marilyn, Deep Blue Sea, Moneyball (finally!) and one that escapes my mind right now.  Butt-numb-athon 2011.  Take Shelter!  That's the last one!

I love the Twilight Zone and Rod Serling.  Still watching Season 3, just got through some gems including It's A Good Life.  Horrible sound effect in that one.

Oh my God, that's the funky stuff and other musings

Words cannot describe how tired I am right now.  This fact is a surprise to me, because I've no reasonable reason to be be this tired!  Such a reason does not exist right now!  Plus I've got very annoying tingly sensation under my left eye.  Yes, it would be fair to say right now that I'm feeling a bit cranky.

I've just worked for 3 hours on a follow up to the totally top secret, not at all guessable project I have going on with Mr Jonathan Hatfull (plug: http://jonathanwriting.blogspot.com/).  It may or may not involve creative writing of some sort.  It may or may not involve reviving an old project of mine.  Anyway, about 2 hours in, I had suitably dissected what I had about two years ago and then it hits me.  I don't think I have an imagination anymore.  Seriously, ask me to think of a shape, it'd be a circle.  Ask me to think of a colour, it'd be grey.  Ask me to think of a dinosaur, it'd be the one working on reception at my first job.

There are many things that I don't have a talent for, but why is it that film grabs me so much?  Oh Lord knows, this isn't therapy.  I'll soldier on regardless.  This post is a lot like my doodles though, aimless, no moral.

Exciting things on the horizon for me then: carry on with this writing, starting Berlin Alexanderplatz, sleeping. The rest of the evening will involve dishes and the cleaning of, a bit of light exercise, reading (Vanity Fair, because I'm classy) and sleeping.  Don't let me fool you into thinking I sleep lots, I would be able to write a much better blog post had I slept properly.

----------------------
Other Musings:

As I've been writing this, I've been eating dinner (fish, chips and beans). I've just realised that I've eaten most of my chips and beans and have left the fish completely untouched.  Fail.

Sid Crosby returns on Monday night.  I hope he's been taking this time to cultivate a true stunt man's moustache.

I've been rewatching the League of Gentlemen while I exercise recently.  Odd, I know.  I am so glad the laugh track was reduced between the first and second series.  That is one show that, although hilarious, really doesn't suit a laugh track.

The fun one can having being Batman and other musings

So what's new? Not much. Not much at all actually. Since the last time we spoke, I've visited Carlisle, Billinghurst and Manchester on three consecutive weekends. The first was with my brother and my mum. Sam, my bro, is up there on a placement from his medical school. This involved visited a number of small towns in the rain, walking a fair bit and a couple of cinema trips (Anonymous and Midnight in Paris (yes, again)). Middle weekend was spent with Messrs Hatfull and Langridge re-watching our old Europe Road Trip video footage and planning a new trip. The final weekend involved visiting Dr. Iain McGibbon in his new flat and enjoying the fine music of St. Vincent live and in person.

So those were the events. Superfluous to these, I've manage to lose my winter coat and gloves, leaving me with only a scarf to battle the elements. I have also picked up a computer monitor, so I think that would be described as a net win overall. Honestly, I always make comments like "oh, I'm going to write this...", but my productivity is rather lacking. I worry about this more now that I have an amazing home entertainment package hooked up in the corner of my room. In fact, it is so amazing, that I think it needs a name. I think I shall call it Lindros 3000. The 3000 is because it's cool. The Lindros is because, after prolonged playing time, headaches will ensue (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eric_Lindros). Actually, I feel bad about that. Sorry about the cheap shot Eric!

Oh well, that's enough fluff, let's get to something comment worthy. When I haven't been travelling or at work over the last three weeks, I've been playing Batman: Arkham City. My goodness, that's a very pretty game. Unfortunately, it hits an issue that I have with so many video games - plotting. Arkham Asylum was a rarity in so much as it provided a well thought out and, more importantly, satisfying narrative. This isn't to say that I don't like Arkham City (in fact, beyond my love of NHL 12, it's definitely my favourite game for a long time). I would highly recommend this game in a heartbeat, but my goodness, I wish that a video game would one day succeed in its aims for some form of cinematic denounment. Obviously Arkham City isn't alone here, GTA IV is definitely a big offender here as well. I worry about video games like these. By appropriating so much from cinematic language, are the games designers limiting their own work? I assume a lot of my issues are caught in the essence of an immesive game. If a character as avatar represents you, what happens when they act in a manner that you yourself would never do (I'm looking at you, L.A. Noire!)? 

Let's sum it up. I hold the belief that games appropriating cinematic language adds to the experience for the majority of the game, but fails when any sort of moral choice is presented or if the conclusion doesn't work:

Arkham City: I've not seen an ending so overwrought with angst since David Tennant left Doctor Who.
Dead Space 2: Fails as soon as Isaac opens his mouth.
GTA IV: After parodying a number of films and TV shows, asking for an emotional response to a rushed ending is asking way too much, especially given the suddenly morality of the so far immoral Niko Belak.
Heavy Rain: The biggest problem here is that the plot doesn't tie up, way too many loose ends. Considering this is a glorified animated movie, that's a big problem. Bitching soundtrack though.
L.A. Noire: To be fair to it, Pop Matters ran an incredible article about why the plotting work for them and from a intellectual level I can agree with what they're saying. Unfortunately, emotionally it did nothing for me. Is that a problem?
NHL 12: Winning the Stanley Cup never feels as good as I hoped.

 If there's one thing Arkham City really does well, it really makes me feel terrible about my figure and my lack of tree trunks for arms.

 ----------------------------------------------
Other musings

Paloma Faith v Miranda July was a very enjoyable twitter interview. More please!

Is everyone who writes in to Vanity Fair just pitching for their own articles? Certainly reads that way.

Single again, oorah.

The Holiday Inn in Kensington is rather pleasant. Nothing special, but pleasant.

That PopMatters article can be found here: http://www.popmatters.com/pm/post/145319-unplugging-the-player-from-the-protagonist

Cornerhouse in Manchester does one hell of a nice cocktail. If you go, order the Maple Manhattan and tell them Ben sent you there. When they look confused, just nod. Things will work out.

Seeing Midnight in Paris twice was incredibly enjoyable if only to see how different the two audiences reacted. In Cumbria, they didn't find Hemmingway funny at all. In fact the first audience was way better, if only for the fact they didn't have a walking Cliff Notes explaining all the jokes to her friend very loudly in the back row.

Other potential names for my speakers, monitor, PS3 combo; Hal Brooklyn, Stilton Joe, Freddy Quebec, Mr 2010, the Future, the American Dream. All would be good names for wrestlers.

Hoping that everyone at OWS is ok. Regardless of your political beliefs, we are all on the same page that police operations against its own citizens whilst a media blackout is in operation is a bit worrying?