Rightly deserving of this year's Best Actress Oscar, Charlize Theron gives a magnificent performance as the infamous serial killer Aileen Wuornos, who was executed in 2002 by the State of Florida.
Theron, an ex-model and star of many a two-a-penny Hollywood dross action or comedy movie, finally sheds her vanity and sex symbol image for something far more substantial and far more defining.
She immerses herself into the role so completely that she's virtually unrecognisable, caked in hideous make-up and wearing ragged clothing.
But her performance redeems a movie that feels clumsy in terms of story-telling skills and very heavy-handed in trying to get across its lurid subject matter.
Two accomplished documentaries from British filmmaker Nick Broomfield have tried to explain Wuornous's place in the pantheon of heinous criminals, but her seven-time killing spree wasn't as clear-cut and evil as criminologists and the media would have you believe.
Wuornous was a notorious Florida prostitute turned serial killer- the first female serial killer in history. She was executed for killing seven men with a hand gun, including some local dignitaries and businessmen with high standing in the community.
The film sets about explaining, rather than condoning, her reasons for why she killed so many. She had a hatred of men brought about by countless years of sexual and physical abuse, and, touchingly, she wanted to protect her lover Selby Wall (Christina Ricci).
Although it's hard to see the connection between her hatred of men and wanting to protect her lover, there was no way she would be able to sustain the situation. Wuornos was not a master criminal and she rarely hid her tracks well, so capturing and convicting her for these crimes was only a matter of time.
As well as exploring the sociological and personal reasons for her homicidal tendencies, the film, in linear fashion, shows us how Aileen and Selby meet.
It shows, too, that Aileen was capable of loving someone, despite her tragic, mistrusting past.
Theron's ugly dental work and studied tics and mannerisms of Wuornos are spot-on, so much so that it's difficult to tell the real person from the actor playing her. And her performance is by no means a fluke of mimicry. She embodies her character in the same way as method actors have done in the past, with the sort of intensity that makes every moment of her screen presence spellbinding.
However, from another perspective, she looks like Michael Keaton's 1988 character creation Beetlejuice, especially in the way that she fiddles with her hair, chews on her gums and cranks her neck and vertebrae with a flexible finesse.
But this is a small, slightly uncharitable observation because Theron transcends the ambiguity of her character, making you sympathetic towards her, even though you know that she's guilty of the most serious crimes.
Ricci is also good, travelling the path from naivety to finally facing the gravity of her lover's crimes. Her androgyny, through the short hair and bleached milkiness of her make-up, provides some strikingly believable moments.
Monster is a ironic title, used to reflect on the contradictions within Aileen Wuornos. She was part devil and partly a victim of circumstance.
As the film shows , despite her tendency to kill at will, she showed a maternal instinct towards her young lover which proved that all she needed was a chance of redemption. But, by then, it was too late and politics, notoriety and a needle expunged any possibility of her being saved.
Wuornos is more than a footnote in history, but, sadly, for all the wrong reasons.
Monday, 20 April 2009
Sunday, 19 April 2009
LARA CROFT TOMB RAIDER: THE CRADLE OF LIFE (2002)
To be fair, this sequel to the unfathomably popular original Tomb Raider is actually better than the first, but it still lacks the real essence of what a blockbuster movie should be about-humour, lots of action and a sense of fun. This film suffers from a severe lack of character development or a coherent plot.
Here, what translates to the screen is little more than the sense of watching the computer game, but being unable to interact with it.
However, it does have a few things that at least make it somewhat bearable. Not the least of which is star Angelina Jolie, who reprises her role as the fearless adventurer and archaeologist Lara Croft.
In this adventure she's trying to prevent the wrong people from getting their hands on Pandora's Box, which, it turns out, is not merely a legend but an actual artifact. In fact, it contains a plague that could mean the end of life on earth.
However, if she's going to locate that long lost treasure, Lara's going to need some help. So she enlists imprisoned mercenary Terry Sheridan (Gerard Butler) who happens to be her former lover. Having betrayed the British government on a previous mission, he doesn't seem to have the character or the loyalty to carry out such a daring plan.
Even with the added dimension of a steamy, stormy romance between the two adventurers, the film makes little headway in portraying the couple as romantically credible.
Usually, their conflict, be it romantic or mission-based, is little more than repetitive argy-bargy that soon becomes wearisome.
As dialogue-heavy as the film is, it should have been trimmed down because most of the characters speak so lifelessly that it would have been better just to concentrate on making the action sequences more exciting and the overall plot more lively and interesting.
Jolie's accent is still wobbly, veering from posh lady of the manor to mid-Atlantic drawl, but she's feisty enough to be watchable, even if the tight swimsuits that she has to wear appeal only to the underdeveloped prurience of adolescent boys.
Still lacking a killer script and some decent adventures, Tomb Raider 2 is unmoving, uneventful and unexciting.
Here, what translates to the screen is little more than the sense of watching the computer game, but being unable to interact with it.
However, it does have a few things that at least make it somewhat bearable. Not the least of which is star Angelina Jolie, who reprises her role as the fearless adventurer and archaeologist Lara Croft.
In this adventure she's trying to prevent the wrong people from getting their hands on Pandora's Box, which, it turns out, is not merely a legend but an actual artifact. In fact, it contains a plague that could mean the end of life on earth.
However, if she's going to locate that long lost treasure, Lara's going to need some help. So she enlists imprisoned mercenary Terry Sheridan (Gerard Butler) who happens to be her former lover. Having betrayed the British government on a previous mission, he doesn't seem to have the character or the loyalty to carry out such a daring plan.
Even with the added dimension of a steamy, stormy romance between the two adventurers, the film makes little headway in portraying the couple as romantically credible.
Usually, their conflict, be it romantic or mission-based, is little more than repetitive argy-bargy that soon becomes wearisome.
As dialogue-heavy as the film is, it should have been trimmed down because most of the characters speak so lifelessly that it would have been better just to concentrate on making the action sequences more exciting and the overall plot more lively and interesting.
Jolie's accent is still wobbly, veering from posh lady of the manor to mid-Atlantic drawl, but she's feisty enough to be watchable, even if the tight swimsuits that she has to wear appeal only to the underdeveloped prurience of adolescent boys.
Still lacking a killer script and some decent adventures, Tomb Raider 2 is unmoving, uneventful and unexciting.
GERRY (2002)
Gerry gets my vote for worst film of the year. This utterly pretentious, silly, self-indulgent and turgid film gave me the urge to walk out very early on.
This film is exactly the reason people don't go or want to go back to the cinema.
Some improvised films bring a natural organic feeling to proceedings and the audience can fed off the realism and energy by a film produced, essentially, on the hoof.
In Gerry's case, this means an entire film of two college-aged men wandering around in the desert talking the most inane babble; it's enough to drive any sane person to seek help.
It does have one plus point. It is a very good looking film- it focuses more on the never-ending vistas of deserts, mountains, rocks, crevices and cacti than on actual plot.
We're not given the names of the characters and the name Gerry is the only reference point that we have, so the characters are, to all intents and purposes, Gerry one (Matt Damon) and Gerry two (Casey Affleck).
These two young men are on a hiking trip in the desert, when Gerry one becomes annoyed at the number of other, less serious hikers around them, even though they themselves don't look anything like serious hikers. So he suggests that they stray off the main path a little.
Within minutes, the two men find themselves in a vast desert. Once there, they're too far gone to make their way back to their car.
These two imbeciles are on the ramblers' equivalent of kamikaze. What happened to using the sun as a guide to direction?
What happens by the end is tragic, but you'll be hard-pressed to feel an ounce of sympathy. Especially when you step back, explore the logic and realise that none of this makes sense.
It's an unedifying ego trip for a couple of actors with the arrogant assumption that because they're Hollywood players, we should have to pay to watch them act out this drivel.
Life is way too short to sit through rubbish like this.
This film is exactly the reason people don't go or want to go back to the cinema.
Some improvised films bring a natural organic feeling to proceedings and the audience can fed off the realism and energy by a film produced, essentially, on the hoof.
In Gerry's case, this means an entire film of two college-aged men wandering around in the desert talking the most inane babble; it's enough to drive any sane person to seek help.
It does have one plus point. It is a very good looking film- it focuses more on the never-ending vistas of deserts, mountains, rocks, crevices and cacti than on actual plot.
We're not given the names of the characters and the name Gerry is the only reference point that we have, so the characters are, to all intents and purposes, Gerry one (Matt Damon) and Gerry two (Casey Affleck).
These two young men are on a hiking trip in the desert, when Gerry one becomes annoyed at the number of other, less serious hikers around them, even though they themselves don't look anything like serious hikers. So he suggests that they stray off the main path a little.
Within minutes, the two men find themselves in a vast desert. Once there, they're too far gone to make their way back to their car.
These two imbeciles are on the ramblers' equivalent of kamikaze. What happened to using the sun as a guide to direction?
What happens by the end is tragic, but you'll be hard-pressed to feel an ounce of sympathy. Especially when you step back, explore the logic and realise that none of this makes sense.
It's an unedifying ego trip for a couple of actors with the arrogant assumption that because they're Hollywood players, we should have to pay to watch them act out this drivel.
Life is way too short to sit through rubbish like this.
SWIMMING POOL (2003)
Here is a very clever, very sexy French thriller which playfully confounds expectations and is wonderfully acted and directed.
Swimming Pool has the elegance of a well-written detective novel, complemented by the nuanced acting of a great actress and the talents of a fledgling star of French cinema.
It's a mood piece, a film to confound your senses, and it has a killer ending.
Charlotte Rampling stars as Sarah Morton, a British crime-fiction author who's having a hard time coming up with ideas for the umpteenth sequel for her detective character Inspector Dovell.
So, her publisher and sometime lover John Bosload (Charles Dance) sends her to France to spend some time at his family home.
At first, while Sarah finds the sunny French countryside to her liking, especially compared to dreary, crowded London, she also gets an unexpected visitor- Bosload's nymphette daughter Julie (Ludivine Sagnier).
The two women get on like chalk and cheese . While Sarah seeks peace and quiet, Julie seeks cheap thrills. She brings strange men back to the house almost every night for sex, drugs and dance music, not to mention a midnight dip in the house's large swimming pool.
As Sarah finds Julie's actions both repelling and strangely alluring , she finds that the unwitting inspiration for her latest work comes directly from Julie, her newly fashioned muse.
As I mentioned, this film takes you to such wonderful, unexpected places that it's a joy to watch it unfold.
The creative process of writing is given a sensitive but playful analysis here, as we get into Sarah's head and find all manner of devilish ideals floating around inside.
The film has the feel of a well-polished and sharply written stage play but isn't falsely theatrical in the slightest.
Director and writer Francois Ozon tries to twist the tale one too many times, but it's forgivable, simply because of the way in which the material is handled and how subtly the ending works.
Rampling, is, as always, mysterious, repressed, but at times erotic, troubled and seductive.
Her younger co-star, who could have passed for Rampling in roles which she played 30 years ago, matches her for allure and presence.
At times, the fact that the lead actresses, especially Sagnier, are nude for much of the time leaves Swimming Pool open to accusations of exploitation- often because it's fairly gratuitous.
But it also adds to the atmosphere, reflected in the sunny rays of the French villa and adjacent village.
It has to be seen to be believed-only then will the magic work its power.
Swimming Pool has the elegance of a well-written detective novel, complemented by the nuanced acting of a great actress and the talents of a fledgling star of French cinema.
It's a mood piece, a film to confound your senses, and it has a killer ending.
Charlotte Rampling stars as Sarah Morton, a British crime-fiction author who's having a hard time coming up with ideas for the umpteenth sequel for her detective character Inspector Dovell.
So, her publisher and sometime lover John Bosload (Charles Dance) sends her to France to spend some time at his family home.
At first, while Sarah finds the sunny French countryside to her liking, especially compared to dreary, crowded London, she also gets an unexpected visitor- Bosload's nymphette daughter Julie (Ludivine Sagnier).
The two women get on like chalk and cheese . While Sarah seeks peace and quiet, Julie seeks cheap thrills. She brings strange men back to the house almost every night for sex, drugs and dance music, not to mention a midnight dip in the house's large swimming pool.
As Sarah finds Julie's actions both repelling and strangely alluring , she finds that the unwitting inspiration for her latest work comes directly from Julie, her newly fashioned muse.
As I mentioned, this film takes you to such wonderful, unexpected places that it's a joy to watch it unfold.
The creative process of writing is given a sensitive but playful analysis here, as we get into Sarah's head and find all manner of devilish ideals floating around inside.
The film has the feel of a well-polished and sharply written stage play but isn't falsely theatrical in the slightest.
Director and writer Francois Ozon tries to twist the tale one too many times, but it's forgivable, simply because of the way in which the material is handled and how subtly the ending works.
Rampling, is, as always, mysterious, repressed, but at times erotic, troubled and seductive.
Her younger co-star, who could have passed for Rampling in roles which she played 30 years ago, matches her for allure and presence.
At times, the fact that the lead actresses, especially Sagnier, are nude for much of the time leaves Swimming Pool open to accusations of exploitation- often because it's fairly gratuitous.
But it also adds to the atmosphere, reflected in the sunny rays of the French villa and adjacent village.
It has to be seen to be believed-only then will the magic work its power.
Saturday, 18 April 2009
25TH HOUR, (2003)
Film director Spike Lee has always made changeling, interesting, if, in some cases, very flawed films, and 25th Hour is no exception.
But, as a director- and ambitious as he is- even Spike Lee's worst films are better than a lot of other directors who have little to say for themselves.
25th Hour is another of Lee's stories about New York, the place he loves and hates.
Summer of Sam explored New York trying to avoid a serial killer. Do The Right Thing-his greatest achievement- explored racism in one long, heated 24-hour period.
25th Hour takes a similar approach, in that it explores the moral choices of a group of friends over 24 hours.
The title refers to the fact that Monty Brogan (Edward Norton), a New York City drug dealer is about to be sent up the river for seven years, after being convicted of possessing and selling cocaine.
He's determined to spend his final day of freedom with loved ones, including his girlfriend Naturelle (Rosario Dawson).
As he starts on his reflective, redemptive quest for answers, Brogan tries to find out who told the police about his possessing large amounts of drugs and counterfeit money.
He suspects his girlfriend, but his father (Brian Cox) seems to trust Naturelle and thinks she wouldn't want to see her boyfriend behind bars under any circumstances.
Monty also cherishes his best friends- neurotic, socially awkward private school teacher Jacob (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and arrogant, brash, but emotionally hollow Wall Street broker Francis (Barry Pepper).
They provide the balance between Brogan's dishonest lifestyle and his need to reconcile with his conscience and prepare for prison.
But his friends have their own problems. Jacob fancies a 17-year-old student (Anna Paquin) and has to wrestle with the moral choices of underage sex, teacher-student ethics and his own lack of assertiveness.
Meanwhile, Francis is trying to block out dealing with real life and his attitude to his friends, including Brogan and his girlfriend, is dangerously one-dimensional and dismissive.
Francis's apartment overlooks the burned-out crater left by the September 11 attack. His nonchalance towards human suffering causes him to remark: "Hey, if Osama Bin Laden bombed again, right outside my door, I still wouldn't move." His amoral stance is quite telling, it's also quite sad.
As usual, Lee makes New York City large than life, as it to suggest the idea that a person is defined more by their environment than they would probably care to admit.
The opening credits, scored by the wonderful Terence Blanchard, express New York City's more sombre mood Since September 2001, complete with a montage of the city's skyscrapers silhouetted in a blue light. It's a beautiful, mournful image.
Expanding on what was quite a brief source novel, Scriptwriter David Benioff gives the characters a rare depth and the film manages to sympathise with even the most corrupt character.
Benioff , correctly, realises that even drug dealers, as characters, are not black and white in how they see things in life. They, too, have contradictory impulses.
Norton's performance elicits sympathy because he's not playing up to the normal stereotypes and he's actually scared of prison and regretful of his stupidity.
In homage to Martin Scorsese's Mean Streets, Lee manages to up the ante in terms of using music to explain a sequence or add a frisson of energy to it.
In a lengthy sequence, which takes place in a nightclub, Lee gathers his main characters as they talk, discuss and become more truthful, thanks, in no small part, to drink and funky music.
But the music, from '80s rapper Big Daddy Kane to Wilesden-based '70s funk group Cymande, takes on a resonance all its own, as the characters start to accept themselves, or express latent desires or spew home truths.
Lee uses turntable scratching in addition to traditional tracking shots and jarring close-ups, to conjure up the feel and confusion of the nightclub space.
Sometime the flashbacks in the story overlap confusingly and there is a fogginess to the approach, but, just like life, if you imagine that you'll come away from the film with just one opinion, then Lee hasn't done his job properly.
However, as in Do The Right Thing, Lee posits certain ideas about humanity that aren't clearly defined and leaves you to make a conclusion or set of conclusions based on your own life experiences.
Strangely, though, some of the characters are mere ciphers and somewhat badly defined, especially those in the Russian Mafia.
25th Hour is a strong, emotionally moving drama that packs in ambitious ideas and tangible, realistic situations that explore the human condition with verve, skill and sincerity.
But, as a director- and ambitious as he is- even Spike Lee's worst films are better than a lot of other directors who have little to say for themselves.
25th Hour is another of Lee's stories about New York, the place he loves and hates.
Summer of Sam explored New York trying to avoid a serial killer. Do The Right Thing-his greatest achievement- explored racism in one long, heated 24-hour period.
25th Hour takes a similar approach, in that it explores the moral choices of a group of friends over 24 hours.
The title refers to the fact that Monty Brogan (Edward Norton), a New York City drug dealer is about to be sent up the river for seven years, after being convicted of possessing and selling cocaine.
He's determined to spend his final day of freedom with loved ones, including his girlfriend Naturelle (Rosario Dawson).
As he starts on his reflective, redemptive quest for answers, Brogan tries to find out who told the police about his possessing large amounts of drugs and counterfeit money.
He suspects his girlfriend, but his father (Brian Cox) seems to trust Naturelle and thinks she wouldn't want to see her boyfriend behind bars under any circumstances.
Monty also cherishes his best friends- neurotic, socially awkward private school teacher Jacob (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and arrogant, brash, but emotionally hollow Wall Street broker Francis (Barry Pepper).
They provide the balance between Brogan's dishonest lifestyle and his need to reconcile with his conscience and prepare for prison.
But his friends have their own problems. Jacob fancies a 17-year-old student (Anna Paquin) and has to wrestle with the moral choices of underage sex, teacher-student ethics and his own lack of assertiveness.
Meanwhile, Francis is trying to block out dealing with real life and his attitude to his friends, including Brogan and his girlfriend, is dangerously one-dimensional and dismissive.
Francis's apartment overlooks the burned-out crater left by the September 11 attack. His nonchalance towards human suffering causes him to remark: "Hey, if Osama Bin Laden bombed again, right outside my door, I still wouldn't move." His amoral stance is quite telling, it's also quite sad.
As usual, Lee makes New York City large than life, as it to suggest the idea that a person is defined more by their environment than they would probably care to admit.
The opening credits, scored by the wonderful Terence Blanchard, express New York City's more sombre mood Since September 2001, complete with a montage of the city's skyscrapers silhouetted in a blue light. It's a beautiful, mournful image.
Expanding on what was quite a brief source novel, Scriptwriter David Benioff gives the characters a rare depth and the film manages to sympathise with even the most corrupt character.
Benioff , correctly, realises that even drug dealers, as characters, are not black and white in how they see things in life. They, too, have contradictory impulses.
Norton's performance elicits sympathy because he's not playing up to the normal stereotypes and he's actually scared of prison and regretful of his stupidity.
In homage to Martin Scorsese's Mean Streets, Lee manages to up the ante in terms of using music to explain a sequence or add a frisson of energy to it.
In a lengthy sequence, which takes place in a nightclub, Lee gathers his main characters as they talk, discuss and become more truthful, thanks, in no small part, to drink and funky music.
But the music, from '80s rapper Big Daddy Kane to Wilesden-based '70s funk group Cymande, takes on a resonance all its own, as the characters start to accept themselves, or express latent desires or spew home truths.
Lee uses turntable scratching in addition to traditional tracking shots and jarring close-ups, to conjure up the feel and confusion of the nightclub space.
Sometime the flashbacks in the story overlap confusingly and there is a fogginess to the approach, but, just like life, if you imagine that you'll come away from the film with just one opinion, then Lee hasn't done his job properly.
However, as in Do The Right Thing, Lee posits certain ideas about humanity that aren't clearly defined and leaves you to make a conclusion or set of conclusions based on your own life experiences.
Strangely, though, some of the characters are mere ciphers and somewhat badly defined, especially those in the Russian Mafia.
25th Hour is a strong, emotionally moving drama that packs in ambitious ideas and tangible, realistic situations that explore the human condition with verve, skill and sincerity.
FILM REVIEWS
From 1998-2004, I reviewed films for the ultra left-wing newspaper in the U.K, The Morning Star. As I have an archive of around 1200, I thought I would put as many up on this blog. You never know, I might get another gig reviewing through doing this, or perhaps it might inspire someone to go out and rent or buy one of these movies.
I'll start with Spike Lee's 2003 drama, "25th Hour", which, along with "Clockers", is Spike Lee at his very best.
I'll start with Spike Lee's 2003 drama, "25th Hour", which, along with "Clockers", is Spike Lee at his very best.
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
EBAY-HOW I HATE YOU SO.
So, apart from flogging off the music biscuits in my apartment, I thought I would use some of the proceeds to catch up on a pasttime I've not been too familar with, namely the dvd box set of a T.V series. I managed season 1, 2 and 3 of Lost, but, ahem, got lost with season 4, and was all at sea, losing the momentum to complete 24 episodes in the space of a weekend.
So, in the U.K, they finally started screening The Wire, which has the reputation of going above and beyond the usual police procedural, and then some. After catching a couple of episdoes of Season 1, I decided to lay down some bread, daddy O' and purchase me some of that here slicky written police drama.
So, I trawled through the usual places: Play.com, Amazon.co.uk, com, even Fr. Of course, if you want a bargain that's too good to be true, try Ebay. And there, amongst all the dross, was the 24 disc region 1 (U.S) box set of series' 1-5 for £60. The seller assured me it was new/sealed, I should have had the alarm bells ringing and thinking: lying bastard/economical with truth.
Anyway, I paid, via Paypal and waited for it to arrive. All seemed well, until the cracks started to appear and this was even without close inspection. The shrinkwrap seemed to be quite baggy; shrinkboy let himself go and breathed out, for once. The box was a bit battered and brusied. The discs seemed to be genuine, until you check the back for stunningly clumsy scratches and a disc that's obviously been frisbeed or used as a drinks coaster. Oh, Ambassador, using The Wire dvds for coasters? You're spoling us! Not only that, but the etchings on the disc are in Chinese... very suspect.
Anyway, my heart sank. Sank even more when none of the discs would work. I've emailed the twerp and I await his slicky worded response, or a possible one finger salute. Just shows you can't be too careful. It's experiences like this that leave you feeling stupid and duped. I'm not hopeful about getting a refund; the little scrote of a chancer will wriggle his way of it. If that's the case, I'll vow not to use Ebay again, even though, as a seller with a rep for honesty, good comms. and fantastically fast delivery, I've done my bit to ensure that people buying from me get what they've paid for, with no misunderstandings or disatisfaction.
So, in the U.K, they finally started screening The Wire, which has the reputation of going above and beyond the usual police procedural, and then some. After catching a couple of episdoes of Season 1, I decided to lay down some bread, daddy O' and purchase me some of that here slicky written police drama.
So, I trawled through the usual places: Play.com, Amazon.co.uk, com, even Fr. Of course, if you want a bargain that's too good to be true, try Ebay. And there, amongst all the dross, was the 24 disc region 1 (U.S) box set of series' 1-5 for £60. The seller assured me it was new/sealed, I should have had the alarm bells ringing and thinking: lying bastard/economical with truth.
Anyway, I paid, via Paypal and waited for it to arrive. All seemed well, until the cracks started to appear and this was even without close inspection. The shrinkwrap seemed to be quite baggy; shrinkboy let himself go and breathed out, for once. The box was a bit battered and brusied. The discs seemed to be genuine, until you check the back for stunningly clumsy scratches and a disc that's obviously been frisbeed or used as a drinks coaster. Oh, Ambassador, using The Wire dvds for coasters? You're spoling us! Not only that, but the etchings on the disc are in Chinese... very suspect.
Anyway, my heart sank. Sank even more when none of the discs would work. I've emailed the twerp and I await his slicky worded response, or a possible one finger salute. Just shows you can't be too careful. It's experiences like this that leave you feeling stupid and duped. I'm not hopeful about getting a refund; the little scrote of a chancer will wriggle his way of it. If that's the case, I'll vow not to use Ebay again, even though, as a seller with a rep for honesty, good comms. and fantastically fast delivery, I've done my bit to ensure that people buying from me get what they've paid for, with no misunderstandings or disatisfaction.
PUBLIC ENEMY NO. 1
Last Thursday, after a 65 hour work week, I sat down to watch one of this year's cinematic highlights. Entitled "Public Enemy No 1, parts 1 and 2", it tells the story of real-life gangster Jacques Mesrine (played by the excellent Vincent Cassel) and tells of his life and times, from the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s.
This is a wonderful, absorbing, uncompromising and absorbing thriller, which runs almost 4 hours and has subtitles. I was so 'out of it' with tiredness and just basic fatigue when I sat down to watch this, but the movie kept me glued to the screen for the entire running time.
It opens in the U.K in two parts. Part one on July 31st 2009, part two on August 14th. I think I will see them again when they open in the cinema here. The limited U.S release dates are for August 09. I urge you to spend your hard-earned money and time watching this future cinematic classic.
Sure, it's violent and it rambles in places and is somewhat unfocused, but it's never less than compelling.
With a supporting cast that includes Gerard Depardieu, Luduvine Sagnier and Mathieu Amalric, this is not to be missed. Please, don't let the running time put you off. This is one of the year's movie highlights, in a year which will be dominated by the usually uncreative and cynical sequels and remakes of movies that were never good in the first place, although some might slip through the net and be worth the effort of seeking out. Such as "The Taking of Pelham 123" with Denzel Washington.
CD COLLECTION-UPDATE
Well, I'm nearly at the end of this purging. I cheated a bit last night: I took a lot of cds out of their jewel cases and put them into a huge CD wallet, whist binning the jewel cases and inlay cards. It actually looks like I have more room in my sitting/living room, which is a blessing. It's good to get rid of stuff from time to time.
Not the most interesting topic I'll admit, but from my point of view, getting rid of these items is symbolical of a change of lifestyle, one where I will concentrate more on my own health and well-being.
I've spent a lot of time with the mistress I call music, but it's time to focus on changing other aspects of my life, one that might ensure a longer, happier existence. I could mention a few reasons why my health has suffered of late, but it would mean probably having to justify it to people who pay my salary, which, given the climate, I'm not prepared to do. I have integrity, have always had it, but now is not the time for blame and grandstanding.
As my 6 weeks of meetings to deal with my stress have shown: it's not the actions of others that are the problem, it's my reaction to it that is most important. Nice sentiment, and there's a lot of truth in that, I just believe it goes deeper than mere reactions.
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
Selling my entire CD collection.
I'm nearly at the end of selling my entire CD collection of around 600 discs. It used to be vinyl, spending a lot of time 'record hopping' all over London and in New York and wherever. They were all sold off in 2002- around 2,000 albums and 12's. I moved to CDs mainly because of the convenience and the invention of the wonderful Ipod-I've bought every one of them over the years.
But, one day, I realised that my apartment (flat) was turning into a hoarders paradise, with literally stacks and stacks of the discs on my shelves, shelves which should be used for a fancy clock or a photo or two. So, I set about selling the whole lot on Ebay. For the most part, this has gone well with most people bidding, winning and paying. But there have been a small minority- which keeps growing- of buyers chiseling discounts for postage, paying in a tardy fashion, and the old chestnut complaint of saying the CD never arrived, causing me to be out of pocket and without the CD. Unless someone wants to pay insurance, it's out of my control what happens to it after it's posted.
Try telling these goobars that. Endless emails, threats of non-payment, bad feedback, lies, claims of non-arrival of goods, it all adds up to quite a shite series of experiences. I can see why people are leaving Ebay in droves- and they are, and that there are collective experiences of people being ripped off, with one side not having trust for the other. One seller said "life's too short", when I profusely apologised for not having his item sent out as quickly as it should. It's a pity others don't take that approach, throwing their rattle out of the pram at the first sign of a problem.
To keep these idiots happy, I've waived the postage, offered free cds, offered discounts for postage, got back to people in a timely fashion with any problems, and still they keep-a-complaining.
Because of the volume of sales in such a short space of time, even Paypal came after me for money laundering. The issues were resolved, but it shows what kind of society we're living in right about now.
Despite this, the feedback score is fantastic and for the most part my European buyers have been fantastic, as have those in Canada and the U.S and Australia. The end is in sight. I managed to give 100 cds away to charity- it felt good. It will feel even better when the mantlepiece isn't clogged by the dusty, imposing stacks of cds.
For me, it's all about the music, and it's a lot easier shoving them on a dvd mp3, holding 1200 tracks on each disc. Music will never die, but the ways of storing them are far easier with the 80,000 or so Mp3s being safely stored on just a fraction of discs in comparison to what I used to have. The money raised has come in useful too.
SPREAD LOVE (REMIX) TAKE 6 AND MARK THE 45 KING
Here's one of my all time favourite tunes. It's remix of Take 6's "Spread Love", remixed by Mark the 45 King. It's been bootlegged for years and was always hard to find. The beautiful, rolling and thumping drum beat comes from Ike and Tina Turner's Cussin', Cryin' and Carryin' On. The sentiment is well timed and the beat is funky- what's not to like?
http://latinboogaloo.com/sounds/spreadlove.mp3
Phil Spector
Well, the time has finally come for Phil Spector to face the music, in more ways than one. My dad, who lives in Pasadena, CA, knows a friend of two of Spector. Whilst he got off last time around, he's gotten what he deserves. Even if he was out of his box on booze or whatever, shoving a gun in a woman's mouth, shooting her and all that kind of stuff is just unacceptable on so many levels.
He was guilty 7 years ago, it's just the wheels of Californian justice have finally got up to speed and whatever Spector's legacy was, he's heading to the same kind of prison that holds people like Manson, and no amount of good will and money is going to save him from being treated like a common criminal. Even if he did worked with the Beatles.
Greetings
Hello there,
I thought I would start a Blog. It'll probably contain my observations on life, both fair and not so fair. It'll be top heavy with film related stuff, with plenty of reviews, pithy comments and just what I fancy. Of course, I'll be mindful of the fact that certain people might use the information on this Blog to get me into trouble, so I'll proceed with caution, and obviously not 'kick off' in the usual way.
There'll be a lot of stuff on music- what makes me tick, what I love to relax to, what I enjoy getting amped with.
Hopefully, it'll be entertaining and engaging, which is all anyone can ask for and all I can ask for is that you keep reading, and let me know if you like it.
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