I haven't been in the blogging headspace of late, as I've been off producing and directing a short film, which is a surreal experience in itself. Critical blogger goes off and makes a film, determined to show all the overrated hacks out there how it should be done, it's all very French New Wave/Peter Bogdanovich/Quentin Tarantino, right? Ah... actually, no. It's much more like: Frustrated filmmaker who's been too pissweak to make a film so resorts to blogging critically to work out these frustrations until urged and inspired by wonderfully talented girlfriend and friends to finally get out there and do it himself. Or something like that. Mostly I'm just trying to make something that a) makes narrative sense, b) people can follow without detailed explanation and c) looks halfway competent. So, naturally, I surrounded myself with awesome actors and crew to mask my personal shortcomings and make me succeed in meeting these three objectives. So thanks to all who were involved, from the bottom of my cold, shriveled heart. I loved every minute of it, and I hope you did too.
But enough about me and my endeavours, and back to me and my reviews and wild opinions. Ahh, the interwebs. Where an ego can ride far, wide and unchecked across open plains, and a person can spout whatever nonsense they like about whomever for fun and even profit.
Firstly, like much of the Western World this week, I saw IRON MAN. And it's damn fine. Sure, it's held up by pretty much the same framework as every other comic book superhero flick, but Tony Stark's redemption story diverts slightly from the standard affable-everyman-gets-powers-and-wants-to-help-innocents playbook. This is a privileged, hugely arrogant (if hugely charming) Arms Manufacturer who goes through a traumatic situation, realises the error of his ways, and transforms himself into a superhero, which provides a nice point of difference. After that point, it's pretty stock standard for the genre, but a lot of fun, mostly due to some sharp dialogue, stunning visual effects (I WANT THAT SUIT!!!), extremely effective casting (Downey is perfect, Bridges is badass, Paltrow is more charming than she's been in years and Howard makes a ingratiating James Rhodes) and just solid, succinct storytelling. (Oh, and that scene post-credits. Marvel comic book geeks, stick around, it'll be worth your while.) The really surprising thing to emerge from this is how much Jon Favreau has really advanced as a director, how well he keeps this massive enterprise tight, punchy and humming. When the next batch of blockbuster adaptations goes round, and all the usual directorial names (Spielberg, Raimi, Jackson, Del Toro, et al) are thrown up, Favreau has absolutely got to be on that list... and not at all near the bottom. He absolutely belongs. Or, as his SWINGERS creation Trent might say, "He's all growns up..."
Secondly, I've finally discovered Francois Truffaut and the joys of the French New Wave. For such a crazy, self-avowed film nerd, it has taken me far too long to get here (I could've rented some Godard and Chabrol instead of the latest Steven Seagal flick, but I've no regrets: how would I have ever experienced the peculiar pleasures of ON DEADLY GROUND?), but I'm glad I finally did. The lovely folks at ACMI screened a Truffaut retrospective containing six of his films, all of which were highly engrossing and always watchable, and while some were wrapped up in their own psyches (MISSISSIPPI MERMAID, TWO ENGLISH GIRLS) and others just plain frustrating (JULES AND JIM), there were some real joys.
THE BRIDE WORE BLACK is an oddly cute, entertainingly even-handed revenge saga which follows a woman hunting down and dispatching the five men responsible for shooting her husband on her wedding day (yes, it's a massive influence on a certain two-part "Eastern Western" Uma Thurman blockbuster of recent years). THE 400 BLOWS is a classic for a very good reason: it's an irresistible (and highly autobiographical) tale of a love-starved and neglected boy who acts out in desperate rebellion and seeks the freedom the strictures of school cannot provide. It's beautiful stuff, with some brilliant scenes and a perfect lead performance from then 14-year-old Jean-Pierre Leaud, who would go on to star in three more films (and a segment of another) playing the same character for Truffaut, following his life. Leaud also plays a major role in DAY FOR NIGHT, a breathlessly entertaining, sharply eccentric and endlessly wonderful behind-the-scenes look at the madness of filmmaking which proved far and away my favourite film of the bunch. Anyone who's ever worked on a film set will laugh along knowingly, and I happened to see it the Wednesday before my shoot weekend... and it couldn't have been more perfect. It put my nervousness in perspective, reminded me how fun and rewarding directing could be amidst all the chaos, and literally inspired me to go on. I loved DAY FOR NIGHT tremendously, as much for its intent, content and execution, as this highly fortuitous serendipity. And while I didn't love everything I saw, I've been sufficiently impressed to add myself to the legion of Truffaut fans.
Thirdly, if any of you have seen Woody Allen's classic MANHATTAN, do you recall the scene where Diane Keaton and Michael Murphy are pompously regaling Woody and Mariel Hemingway with their "academy of the overrated" list (which included F. Scott Fitzgerald, Norman Mailer and Vincent Van Gogh, among others)? Well, I've been putting together of my own of late. A lot of good filmmakers and actors have been slammed over and over again in the media or on the internet for being overpraised and overrated, while some -- to me anyway -- seem to get away with murder. My first list is dedicated purely to the film world's underachievers, those who have displayed prodigious talent in the past, but since seem far too content to swan in, grab their cheque, phone another effort in, and go home. People who are much more talented than the stuff they're turning in, and are knocked far too infrequently for their efforts. Yes, folks, I'm compiling my "Academy of Underachievers" and plan to pompously regale you with it...
...but not here, not right now, as I'm putting the finishing touches on it. But soon.
All right, I'll give you a taste:
RIDLEY SCOTT.
There, I said it, and I already feel better.
See you on the other side.
TSIK
