My Booky-Wook Bloggy-Wog

I used to read all the time. Seriously. I read so much, I gave myself headaches. I'd even read the back of cereal boxes when I was having breakfast. I wrote alot, too, and would write and illustrate comic books when other kids were doing normal things like climbing trees (I didn't quite have the co-ordination for tree climbing... I fell over ALOT).
However, studying English scunnered me of the habit for quite a while... I hated having to dissect EVERYTHING I liked, and even more I hated doing a full term about Shakespeare. And not even the plays I'd heard of. I just found it really dry and tedious, the language really hard to decipher, and the hardcore literary geeks in my class didn't appreciate me giggling like a schoolboy at 'Coriolanus'. (Heeheehee! Anus! Toilet humour high five anyone?)

ANYWAY. Aside from rock star biographies, I've not really read much of note in the last few years. (Example- the last few books I've read all the way through have been The Dirt- The Story of Motley Crue, Never Enough: The Story of The Cure, The Heroin Diaries, and Heavier Than Heaven- The Biography of Kurt Cobain). Studying art didn't really encourage me either... aside from pretty picture books about Tracey Emin's manky bed, or Dali's fabulous moustache or, at a push, Peter Biskind's modern film histories like Easy Riders, Raging Bulls.
Recently though, I've started to get back into reading- particularly encouraged by our screenwriting classes and content origination. We're pretty much told that we can't expect inspiration to come to us- we have to look to other sources beyond what is immediately around us. Plus, I'd found that when I was writing my own stuff it was all kind of journalistic and dull- not terribly exciting, and not terribly progressive either.

SO. I decided I'd take advantage of Borders' closing down sale (sniff!) and, inspired by our Heavy Emotional Cathartic Post Secret class, bought what I thought would be an interesting foray into the life of a screenwriter...

In fact, James Brown's (no, not that one) L.A. Diaries is in fact the true story of a writer struggling to get his big break in Hollywood- all the while crippled by his addictions with drink and drugs, and barely managing to be a father to his children. The book flicks back and forth between his life, although not chronologically, through his disturbed childhood, his days as a promising young university student, his week-long motel bound drug binges and the premature deaths of his sister and brother through cocaine and alcohol. Hardly the kind of inspiration I was looking for, really. Still, I managed to read it in abour 2 days- a rare feat nowadays.
Starkly written, and unflinchingly honest, it's quite difficult to read at some points- but it struck a chord with me, weirdly, because of the class we'd had that day.
The way Brown wrote about his experiences with such clarity, exposing his most vulnerable moments and deepest depressions for all to read, really hammered home how much of themselves writers have to bring to the table. There's no point writing about what you don't know, or don't believe in, because then it's false- and no one else will believe it either. It's something that makes me a bit uneasy- I'm not one for 'opening up', really, and if I do it's in a journal bound by lock and key... Alot of it probably had to do with being out of practise- aside from boring mandatory essays I hadn't done any writing in years. It's something I'm developing as our course progresses though. I've found that if I force myself to sit and write, when I have free time, it becomes more of a habit and I find myself actually making time to do it, rather than finding time... weird huh?


On a lighter note, I recently caved in and bought the first Twilight book. I'd tried watching the film, but it was soooo depressing. The female lead, Bella, spent the entire duration with her face tripping her and I couldn't warm to her at all- she just came across like a spoiled, moody teenager. And you could read Robert Pattison's cue cards all over his face. BAD. However, pretty much everyone who'd seen the film told me to read the book first because 'you fall in love with the character'. So, I've decided to give it a bash- I'm only 100 pages or so into it so far, but already I'm enjoying it better than the film... although admittedly I'm finding it quite hard getting past all the adjectives. It's veeerrrry flowery... really, how hard is it to just say "he said", rather than "it was like a line delivered by a skilled actor"?
Like the Harry Potter series before it, I get the impression the author has a big imagination but not quite the talent to express it... still, what do I know... I've never written a novel, never mind had anything published. Still, it's yet to get into the real juicy stuff, so I'll plough on with it. I'm actually secretly enjoying alot more than I'd admit... if I was 16 I'd totally love it, and be looking for an Edward Cullen of my very own... In saying that, R-Patz is the same age as me!

Well, that's about all from me for now... my eyes are going blurry from staring at my laptop screen for too long, and blogging all day has used up so much of my concentration, that the only thing I can be bothered to read right now is The Book of Bunny Suicides... Which, to be fair, is a classic in itself!

"Every Time A Bell Rings, An Angel Gets Its Wings"

I know I've already trilled on at length about my favourite Christmas movies in a previous blog. But that was October. Since it's now a fortnight til The Big Day, I thought I'd make a special mention for the one film which reminds me of Christmas the most- Frank Capra's It's A Wonderful Life (1946).

I first watched this film when I was really young- I can't quite remember how young, but I do remember it being an early Christmas staple in our house. It's one of my mum's favourites, and I've always associated it with the aftermath of putting up the tree. It's one of the all-time classic feel good films... seriously, even the Grinch and Ebenezer Scrooge couldn't deny the festive magic of It's A Wonderful Life. Considering its year of release, I'd bet everyone was feeling in need of a good pick-me-up and this film is the perfect antidote. It tugs on the heartstrings without ever being phoney or saccharine, and is never rose tinted- for a start, its protagonist begins his journey by contemplating suicide.

At some point or another, everyone feels down and maybe even wonders how life would be if they weren't around- but unlike the rest of us, George Bailley (the legendary James Stewart) actually gets to see how this would be, with a little help from his guardian angel Clarence.

The film follows George's journey through his life without him, and realises that although his lifestyle may be modest, his close-knit town would be alot worse off without him. By the time the film reaches its conclusion, with George realising that after it all he does want to live again. After spending his life giving up his big dreams for the good of the community, he finds he really is the richest man in town.

It's a simple yet original story, elegantly told, perfectly acted and entirely heart warming- a classic tale of despair and redemption, all wrapped up nicely in time for Christmas.

Ah! German Expressionist Zombies!

It's a strange thing, that I don't really think of silent films as 'real' films. I don't consider that they have genres of their own, in the same way modern cinema does- apart from 'comedy' and 'melodrama', that is. Even 'horror'; to me they're all lumped into the general umbrella term of 'silent movies'. Which is a pity, really. It's quite fascinating to watch the products of a medium in its infancy, and how deeply these films have influenced alot of what we watch today.

It's impossible to talk about the lasting effects of the silent movie era without mentioning German Expressionism. Chaplin, Keaton et al might have had a hand in technological development, but in terms of set design, ze Germans have them beaten hands down.

I've already sat through Fritz Lang's Metropolis (and had secretly hoped never to have to watch it again), and its resonances throughout modern cinema are undeniable- Superman, Blade Runner, Star Wars and -my own personal favourite- Tim Burton's Batman all riff heavily from Metropolis. Today, though, we were introduced to another classic from the movement- 1919's The Cabinet of Dr Caligari.

This film is dreamy, macabre, quirky, sinister, baffling and undeniably loony; quite a feat considering it's less than a decade shy of being 100 years old. The set pieces are quite incredible. As soon as we were transported into the story via flashback, I found it instantly recognisable- and I'd never seen it before. It looks like the great-grandfather of The Nightmare Before Christmas; while the somnambulist character Cesare is a dead ringer for Edward Scissorhands. The surreal, slanting, theatrical set pieces wouldn't look out of place in The Mighty Boosh. In short, this film has influenced a fair chunk of my DVD collection, so it's really kinda shocking that I'm only watching it for the first time now.
At first, I couldn't get past the set design to get totally into the story- it's a densely packed set, like some kind of bizarre gothic pantomime captured on film. Even the intertitles are in jagged, erratic text. Watching the film to the end reveals, after all, that the words are those of a madman- hence the crazy font. At the start thought, it takes a while to adjust. Once I got properly into the film, I realised how large a part the psychotic dreamscapes play in telling the story.
Even the story is pretty convoluted- not your typical, straightforward silent film and a million miles away from the Little Tramp.
The film opens with a young man talking to an elderly gent. A young woman comes floating past unaware of them, she looks ghostlike, as if she's in a trance. The young man, Francis, explains that she's his fiancee. And terrible things have caused her current condition to befall her.

His story begins with a travelling fair in his home town; the main event being Dr Caligari and his somnambulist 'puppet' Cesare. Caligari brags that Cesare can predict the future, and when he awakens he predicts the death of Francis' friend Alan, to happen the next day. When the grim prediction comes true, the townspeople are out for blood. Cesare kidnaps Jane and flees, later found dead from exhaustion. Francis tracks Caligari down to a mental asylum- of which he is the Director...or is he? Are he and Cesare really travelling through towns and even time? Or is it Francis himself who is the madman?

The final reel's sucker punch twist is ingenious, one which would put many modern counterparts to shame. Definitely not a film I'd watch for some light entertainment, but it truly exemplifies film as an art form. I'm a huuuuge horror film fan, and since watching Caligari I've realised how immeasurable its influences actually are throughout the genre. I'd even considered whether it could be one of the first 'zombie' films- a character trapped in a half-life limbo? Who stirs from his seemingly eternal sleep only to wreak havoc and bring death and unrest upon humankind? Hmmm...!

It's rare to see a film of its era which has such pyschological depth. Rather than pander to the audience with a happy ending, it forces them to question what they've just seen. The grotesque characters, darkly twisted sets and chilling, involving story all add up to what it rightly hailed as an all time classic- and, as I have now learned, not just a classic 'silent' film.

A Lamb Amongst Lions

Saturday, 5th December. A freezing, drizzly, grey afternoon. Slightly hungover from the birthday celebrations the night before, I dragged myself into town and met with the rest of the DFTV-ers. We were not looking forward to the afternoon ahead. For we, as part of the unholy Creative Beginnings module, were away to attend... A PARTICK THISTLE GAME. My earlier protestations that I'd already been to the football at Parkhead, as a kid, had fallen on deaf ears. This was about 'learning'. 'Engaging'. And most of all, 'surviving'...

Thanks to Julia's driving skillz, we made it to Firhill without a hitch. No thanks to the BBC, our presence at the game had been announced on the news... suffice to say I was feeling a li'l bit apprehensive. I had a horrible feeling, like they knew we'd be coming... they'd be waiting for us. We strode up, casual like, a sort of uneasiness creeping in until eventually we were at the turnstiles. The roar of the crowd was audible from outside the stadium and inside it buzzed in my ears. I heard the rumbling from the seats above us and gulped. We were inside now... all that was left now was to cross the threshold (a feeeeww minutes late) and take our seats. As the game had already started, the Jags fans had already taken their seats and were shouting away. Unfortunately, the only seats left were right. Down. The front. So we had to bypass all the radge Thistle fans and, even better, EVERYONE could see us coming in. I've never felt more out of place in my life, and my bright purple scarf didn't help me blend in to a sea of red and yellow...

Once we took our seats, we attempted to follow what was happening. Well, the rest of 'em did, I was more panicked about our positions- being three rows from the front, I was TERRIFIED every time the ball even came close to our side of the stand. It didn't help that it was bitter cold and my head was still fuzzy from the night before... We spent alot of the time trying to work out if the handful of people in the stand opposite were away fans or not. If so, it was a shame for them- there were maybe only 20 folk there at a push. Still, we tried our best to get into the swing of things- as shown by these smiling faces:

Well, Lucy's smiling face at least! As for the game, there wasn't much in the way of action- well, not up our end anyway. It seemed to be mostly up the other end of the pitch. The poor ol' goalie looked as bored as the Very Cold Man with Camera. We tried to get into it by seeing if there were any hotties on the pitch. I spotted none, Flick found an affiliation with Number 5. We even tried to throw in some chants of our own... I don't think "you're a king amongst men, sir" will ever catch on, but hey! it was worth a shot. Still, we got an earful of the..err... 'colourful' banter from the trackie mob in front of us... "Yer maw's a ride!" was a particular favourite of mine. One thing I remember from going to games with my dad was that I was allowed to swear- no one could hear me anyway and I thought it made me sound soooo grown up. Despite the fact I couldn't see what was going on, cheering and jeering made me feel more a part of the crowd... sadly though, it didn't turn out that way on Saturday! Possibly because I didn't have a scooby what was going on, possibly because the stadium was exactly 'full' and I didn't want to draw any more attention to our corner...

Unfortunately, being vegetarian, I couldn't sample any of the 'tasty' halftime treats. Believe it or not, football catering doesn't offer much for non-meat eaters, but Murray took one for the team and got a good ol' fashioned pie and Bovril. Not that I missed out on the Bovril much- I remember trying it years ago and not being too impressed... like gravy flavoured tea, uuurrrggghh. Ah well, as long as one of us tried it, it still counts...right?

The rest of the game played out and, despite my griping and moaning, it actually wasn't too bad... well, not as bad as I feared anyway. We had a right ol' banter between us, and being the proverbial fish out of water let me view the game completely unbiased. It was weird though, being at a game where I didn't support either team. It left me feeling a bit disengaged, and I wondered how in the hell this related to us at all. A lesson in teamwork maybe? Hmm... Nah, too cheesy. An encouragement to follow sports? ....don't be silly. The reason I got into drama, art and watching films was largely to do with my AWFUL co ordination in the field of athletics, and the fact I fell over quite alot when required to do anything overtly physical. The whole Creative Beginnings thing is supposed to be about getting a feel for all sorts of 'Glesca culture', but considering I'm a weegie anyway it didn't seem all that relevant, or indeed necessary.

In the end, I came to a somewhat shaky conclusion... I thought back to the Screenwriting class when we had to debate a topic, take sides and argue our point. It's alot like football. You choose your team, support them ardently through thick and thin and, more importantly never back down. Like an argument in a debate, you see your team through to the end. You stick to your guns. Same with writing, too. You have to make your audience engage with the characters and scenarios you're presenting them with. And if you manage to get through an entire season without some kind of pie-related poisoning, well, more power to you!

Naaa, na-na-na-na, naaaaa.....

That, by the way, is supposed to be the theme tune to one of the country's most beloved soaps- Coronation Street. Really. Sing those "na-na-na's" to the Corrie theme tune, it fits! Well, what else am I supposed to do with no words? I'm hardly Charlie Chaplin!

I've never been into soaps really- I remember watching Brookside with my mum way back in the Body Under The Patio days, and I got more addicted to Hollyoaks than I'd care to admit in my uni days. Since then my interest in the genre has waned... I don't have the attention span or devotion to get properly involved. Plus, with the exception of the 'oaks, there are never enough pretty people to make it worthwhile watching.

In the last few weeks however, we've been learning about the construction of storylines and how different soaps are to regular ol' TV dramas. With this in mind, I settled down to watch Corrie yesterday (7th December) with a fairly open mind.

Surprisingly, I actually knew more characters than I thought I did- turns out I must have absorbed something whilst staring blankly at the screen when relatives had it on in the background. Plotwise, I didn't have a clue- thank God I had my wee nan, a Corrie devotee, at hand to act as a "Previously on...." for me. I couldn't understand why beige old Ken Barlow was so averse to his son opening a new bar- "his son's an alcoholic". I didn't get why leery old Kevin the Mechanic was drooling over some tubby chav with a face like a pitbull- "they're having an affair and she's going wi' Tyrone as well". Oh, and greasy Dev out the shop and Potato Head Steve McDonald? "They're golf rivals but he (Dev) fancies his golf tutor, but Steve doesn't know it's his golf tutor". Sorted!

From what I could tell, there were three main story threads running through the episode- as well as the aforementioned affair and the Barlow family dispute, there was the beginning of a storyline to revive the Rovers' panto. The golfing story was only touched on briefly in one scene, and kind of brushed aside. Another sub-plot came from the Ken Barlow story; his turkey-necked wife Deirdre angry because Ken's interference with the council had cost her the chance of a new job.
There were some scenes with other characters I didn't quite get, including one boy who was about to join the army, but they didn't seem central to the episode in question. It was fairly easy to catch up on the main points of the story, as it was re-iterated by the characters talking to each other. I wouldn't have known how they were related to each other, though, if I hadn't had outside help!

In terms of action, there didn't really seem to be very much of it. The episode I watched took place the morning after a fight between one character, Clare, and barmaid Becky- and not much ever happens in hangover episodes. The two women later resolved their differences by....planning to organise a panto in the Rovers Return. Err, yes. That's one way to settle an argument indeed.
The episode also featured alot of Ken's blustering about his wayward son, rather than any conflict between the two of them. I really thoroughly disliked him as a character- he's so condescending and dull, it's a wonder Deirdre's gone back to him. He acts like king of the hill, despite mother-in-law Blanch quipping that he got a degree 50 years ago and still gets stuck at the newpaper crossword.

I thought the acting was pretty hammy, and the characters all seemed like dull stereotypes. Most of the typical British soap characters were there: the brassy barmaid, the old lady comic relief, the old stalwart, the 'scarlet woman' (Leanne Battersby)... In saying that, I think my judgement's been changed a little considering what we learned in class. The performances may not be Oscar material, but the characters are acting fairly naturally, and talking like people from that region probably would (minus swearing, of course- it's 'real life', but it's still pre-watershed). I wouldn't say there was any great hook that'd make me want to tune in tomorrow, though. Maybe it's because I've only watched one episode, therefore not had time to get to know any of the characters.

It's amazing, though, how a show can become such a national institution- when I checked the episode guide on ITV Player, the headline read "CORRIE- THE NATION'S STREET". Considering the viewing figures it can command it's not too outlandish a claim. It's truly embedded in British culture; after nearly 50 years many older generations have grown up with the show and passed the tradition onto younger viewers. Personally I don't reckon I'll be in a hurry to tune in again (although if Andy is to be believed, I may have to, to further my screenwriting prowess...). Still, at least it's fairly cheery, and the 'Corrie bubble' provides a wee half hour of escapism for its die-hard fans.

(In comparison, I watched 5 minutes of EastEnders after Coronation Street was done and honest to God, I've never felt closer to suicide in my life. It was like being raped in the soul.)

Silence Is Golden

I have to admit, I was more than a little bit apprehensive when Andy told us we'd be watching silent films as part of our Friday screenings. The only silent film I'd seen before then was DW Griffith's Way Down East (1920), a 2-hour long silent melodrama, which moved along with all the pace of a glacier and mostly involved Lillian Gish reprising her wide-eyed waif routine. Apparently it's an all-time classic... if only it hadn't outstayed its welcome by about 30 minutes.

I'm happy to report, then, that there were no such problems with the films we watched in class- Charlie Chaplin's The Kid (1921) and The Gold Rush (1925), and Buster Keaton's Sherlock Jr (1924). I'd heard of both Chaplin and Keaton, but never actually seen any of their films. I was actually pleasantly surprised- although I think it definitely helped that we watched Richard Attenborough's 1992 biopic, Chaplin. Yeah, it's a pretty flawed film- lurching from Big Drama to Big Drama in Chaplin's life, it tries to cram far too much into its running time. However, the marvellous Robert Downey Jr (who rarely puts a foot wrong anyway) is just brilliant, delivering a powerhouse performance in his first big leading role.

The film was a good introduction to Chaplin, his works and his life, from his poor childhood, his first steps in variety theatre and his big break into film. Despite being a bit far-reaching and ambitious, I absolutely loved it- and not just because of amount of time RDJ is on the screen... It showed a man obsessed with his work, who understood the needs of the common people and understood what his audience wanted despite the phenomenal wealth and success his career brought him. His 'Little Tramp' character was a downtrodden everyman who struggled to get by via a number of comic cirumstances.

The following week, we watched The Kid. In this, the Little Tramp finds a baby boy, abandoned by his unwed mother along with a note pleading with the finder to care for the baby. After several attempts to fob the baby off on passers-by, the Tramp takes him home and raises him as his own. Unfortunately, a few years later, circumstances arise which put their relationship in jeopardy, as the mother (now a famous actress) becomes involved in charitable work. The child falls ill, and authorities try to take him away to the county orphan asylum.
Despite having no dialogue, the film is easy to follow and the performances are wonderful. Chaplin's Tramp is a creation of comic genius, although he can also handle weighty emotional scenes with great sensitivity. I actually felt myself getting totally involved with the characters- the scene where the little boy is being taken away by authorities is just heart-breaking, and I totally rooted for Chaplin's character to save his 'adopted' son. Everything about the film is as perfectly constructed as anything released 90 years later- perhaps more so, considering Chaplin didn't have access to special effects like films today. Can you imagine The Kid or The Gold Rush brought to you by Jerry Bruckheimer? It doesn't bear thinking about!

After this came Chaplin's favourite of his own films, The Gold Rush.
Apparently this is the film Chaplin wanted to be most remembered for, and was the first which he started shooting with a fully written out story. In this, the Tramp travels to Alaska in search of gold. Instead he finds himself in the midst of a storm, taking refuge in a cabin with two fellow prospectors. They have no food, and much comedy ensues when they start to hallucinate with hunger, eventually feasting on the Tramp's boot.
Eventually, the storm passes and he ventures into town, becoming smitten with local dance-hall girl Georgia. The rest of the film follows him trying to win her affections. There are many classic set-pieces in the movie, such as the 'dancing rolls' sequence, a fellow hungry prospector imagining Chaplin as a giant chicken, and the cabin tilting vicariously over the edge of a cliff.
I didn't like it as much as The Kid though. I felt it didn't have quite the same emotional heart- after a while it seemed a little drawn out, although it did have much more accomplished performances. Also, it was lovely to see the Tramp finally make his fortune and keep it- even the most cynical viewer couldn't begrudge the downtrodden prospector his chance at wealth.

The Little Tramp character is one which has endured throughout the arrival of the 'talkies', and it's testament to Chaplin's talent and dedication to his art that it's as endearing and watchable today as it was then. While he made the character to appeal to the working class audience, there's no sense of pandering to the lowest common denominator- he respects his audience. Despite his moniker, the Tramp is a much-loved character, perhaps one of the most recognised in cinematic history. He is downtrodden but also debonair, and his boundless optimism ensures the audience are always on his side.

It's a shame then, for poor old Buster Keaton, star of Sherlock Jr. His deadpan, stoic facial expressions earned him the unfortunate nickname of 'The Great Stone-Face'. Despite being far more technologically advanced than Chaplin, he never quite engaged his audience in the same way. It's a pity, because the film is wonderfully accomplished and, even now, jaw-droppingly inventive. For example, scenes where Keaton's down-on-his-luck projectionist rises out of his own body and jumps into the cinema screen would today be implemented using CGI, without even a second thought. The extended sequence in which Keaton tries to escape the bad guys, while riding the handlebars of a bike without a driver, is perfectly timed, fast-paced and incredibly accomplished.

It's a real pity that Keaton's performance was not as beloved as Chaplin's as The Tramp. However, I did find it difficult to engage with the character as much as Chaplin- whereas the latter's films featured lots of close-ups on his facial expressions and gestures, Sherlock Jr relies heavily on visual effects and long shots to portray the technical wizardry at its best. This seems to be at the expense of any interaction and engagement with the characters- it seems to say "look what I can do", rather than "here's someone you can associate with".

All in all, though, I enjoyed our dip into the water of silent film alot more than I thought I would. It's amazing how much emotion can be portrayed without sound, and what could be achieved when the directors had to create every effect manually, without use of lazy computers. I do think (although maybe it's just me personally) that there's a time limit on how long a silent film can hold my attention- maybe I've just become too used to being brought up in an age of fast-talking, high-concept blockbusters? However, the selection we watched were just long enough for me. Silent films are vitally important in our understanding of cinema as it is nowadays, especially when you realise how many gags, effects and nuances today and pilfered from the silent era. Who knows, maybe after this I'll be ready to give Way Down East another shot...although perhaps with, say, Die Hard With a Vengeance at hand to balance it out? We shall see...

"If You Look The Right Way..."

"...you can see that the whole world is a garden".


It may come as something of a surprise, but this and A Little Princess are two of my favourite films. Right up there along side Requiem for A Dream, Fight Club and Natural Born Killers. I know, right? But hey, I like to be diverse. It keeps things interesting. Plus no amount of drug-indiced trippiness or ultra violence can compare with the magical memory of seeing this childhood classic blossom into life (sorry) on the big screen.

I watched it with my mum on Sunday, the day before my 23rd birthday. She actually phoned me from downstairs to tell me it was on! I don't know whether it was the age-related self pity, rosy eyed nostalgia or the fuzzy depression of a hangover, but the delights of The Secret Garden made my wee day. Basically, it's about a pinched, embittered young girl, Mary, raised in India by her neglectful parents. When they die in an earthquake she is sent to live in England with her uncle in his cold, gloomy stately home (Misslethwaite Manor). Emotionally numb, her widowed uncle frequently takes trips away and she is left in the care of his strict, unfeeling housekeeper Mrs Medlock. She discovers her bedridden cousin, Colin, a pale, sickly boy of her own age who has been kept inside wrapped in his father's smothering emotional blanket. Lonely and cast aside, Mary befriends the servant boy Dickon, with whom she discovers her aunt's equally neglected garden.

Taking solace in her "bit of dirt", she plants seeds, and learns to develop relationships with Dickon, Colin and servant girl Martha. As her heart thaws, the garden blossoms into life, and eventually, too, her uncle learns to love again. After seeing his son walking whilst playing Blind Man's Buff, he realises he has been a ghost in the present, rather than treasuring his cherished memories of his beloved wife.

It's a testament to this film that it's revered as such a classic despite only being released in 1993. Sure, it's an adaptation of a classic book, but an adaptation doesn't necessarily guarantee a good movie. The film is driven by its central characters, who are three children- and their performances are wonderful. Kate Maberly, as Mary, perfectly depicts the unloved misfit who flourishes as her garden does. Cousin Colin, a spoiled brat who's never seen the light of day, is initially quite detestable but the two find something of themselves in each other. Local lad Dickon helps tend to the garden and as their friendship blossoms, we truly root for them (sorry again...) and their garden to survive the cold, dark winter- and warm the cold, dark heart of Misslethwaite Manor.


Despite its somewhat sugary-sounding themes, the film never once veers towards easy sentimentality and begins as cold as the characters themselves. As it unfolds, it thaws with the characters, which is why I think it's so easy to engage with them. When the garden starts to bloom, it's a wonderful, magical sight, and the last scene, of Mary, her uncle and cousin skipping in circles in the garden, packs a powerful emotional punch. It still makes me well up with happy tears despite seeing it...ohh....about 39284623 times?

The look and tone of the film changes as the characters and surroundings evolve, from the cold, icy blues and greys when Mary first arrives to the pinks, purples, reds, and every other colour in between. The attention to detail is superb and really captures the mood of the film. The costumes are beautiful, as is the drapery and wall hangings around the house-visually the film is just stunning.

The Secret Garden is, for me, one of those films I can put on whenever I'm feeling kinda bluse-y and it cheers me up in an instant. It appeals to both adults and children, as did the book it is sourced from. During the hefty, endless dreary winter, watching this film still makes me feel childish... but in a good way. A good way where that reminds me that it's not forever and, with a little bit of love, anything can flourish.

(...honestly, I make myself sick sometimes. Ah, well! It's Christmastime... the one time of year it's OK to indulge in over-sentimentality. So nyah!)

Misty Water Colour Memories....

Aaaww, doesn't it look nice aw lit up like...

Right. We're a good, what, five weeks into our 'real' classes at RSAMD now (Creative Beginnings doesn't count a mon avis) so I figure it's time for a lil reflection. And not just because Andy mentioned something about a blog assessment....

Anyways. It seems like we've been here at the good ol' Academy for ages now, even though it's only been a couple of months. But at the same time, it's also scarily close to Christmas and it's dawning on me we're only a couple of weeks away from the end of term. I.e, halfway through first year. So what have I learned from all this? Well...

When I first started at RSAMD I was interested in learning more about camera, since I'd always loved doing photography at college and thought cinematography sounded like a larf. I'd also done some veeeerrry basic editing on our video art piece for my HND, and thought I'd find it fairly easy. WRONNNGG. I didn't take into account the fact that I'm pretty much technologically retarded, and up until now I've found it kind of difficult to try and listen, take notes and follow directions at the same time... I'm rubbish at multi-tasking. In saying that I DID manage to edit a whole sequence without too much drama so maybe I'm coming along after all, albeit a bit slower than the rest...

Camera class with Ray has also been a bit of a struggle for me, mostly I think because I'm feart of the kit. When I'm holding a camera all I can think about is dropping it, or putting my foot through a monitor, or something going up in flames... Although considering I didn't even know what "calibrating a monitor" meant when I first started, I've actually learned alot more than I think. The cameras we used in college were basically regular cameras with a video function, so at times I feel a bit out of my depth. Tutorials an'that will definitely help though, and more than anything I just need to PRACTICE PRACTICE PRACTICE...

As for the rest of our classes, they're going swimmingly so far. When the course started I had no internet and was working 5 days a week to pay off my lousy flat, so I couldn't really enjoy myself and get properly into the swing of things. Since moving back home though, I've been able to focus on what's really important, and that's getting my head in the game fer real.
It's helped me to concentrate on the fairly daunting workload without the added headache of dealing with 'grown up' stuff. There's alot of aspects to the course I'd never have expected- Andy's Introduction to Cinema class, for example, has shown us the basics in getting to grips with marketing strategies and the importance of advertising/ audience awareness. Also, I now know what a producer does, which I could never fathom before. I didn't really think about 'the industry' before, maybe I was a bit caught up in the artsy-fartsy side of it but it's actually pretty interesting. Obviously once we're in the big ol' world of the film and TV industry alot of it'll be about selling wurselves and I like that we're getting a wee taster of that from the beginning.

I'm also really enjoying content origination- I didn't really go out of my way to watch much TV before (which I remember saying in my interview and immediately afterwards wishing I could cram the words back into my stupid gub). In the past few weeks though, we've been introduced to Life on Mars and Being Human, which I'd heard of, but never seen. It ain't all just watching TV though- coming up with themes and premises for shows we've watched have helped when trying to come up with ideas of my own- it ties in with writing premises for film in Richard's class. I haven't done any 'creative writing' since school and found it difficult trying to write personally, and get my mind working 'creatively' again. Learning about story structure has made it alot easier though, and it's also made it easier to understand films I've seen too...
Coming up with ideas and reading them out also forces me to be less reserved, I don't feel stupid for reading anything out loud cuz everyone else is in the same boat.

On a less academicky note, being on this course has also co-erced me into going to the picutres again. I used to go all the time, but sadly I've neglected it in recent months...

Although I've now seen more pictures since starting at the academy than I did all of last year. It helps that now I'm in a class of like-minded people who want to go watch 'em as much as me. The only problem currently is my lack of income... just wait til I get my Cineworld card for Christmas (please, Santa/ Jewish Hannukah Santa/ Mum...)- there'll be no stopping me! Also it helps with some of the wee tasks we've been asked to do, like come up with a film we want to see in the next 6 months, or the group assessments we've to do about films released in the last three.

Annyywayy. What else can I say about life at the academy? It's been great so far. I got bored of university and doing dry, dry film studies. Art at college was fun enough, but it didn't feel like the right fit. I justs didn't have the passion or enthusiasm for it. Now that I'm on the DFTV course, I actually find myself enjoying being in first thing on a Monday, and even getting up so early it's still dark doesn't faze me. Whereas at college I was always looking for an excuse to skive or leave early. Or go for coffee. Or take multiple extended cigarette breaks. It's alot of work, yeah, but it doesn't bother me- I actually ENJOY it. Even writing blogs, which I originally thought were gonna be a total chore.

On that note, I'd better leave this here before I start getting all hyperbolic and sentimental and junk. There's work to be done- and I'm sad to say this includes the dreaded dumping ground that is Moodle. Wish me luck....

Lions And Tigers And Bears? No, Ta.

As part of our Friday screenings, we've watched a shortlist of five films which are considered to be The Best Movies EVER. Admittedly, I wasn't terribly thrilled when I found out what they were- of all of them, the only one I actually liked/had seen all the way through was Citizen Kane. However I figured I'd watch 'em all with an open mind and choose one I didn't know so well.

I first saw The Wizard of Oz when I was about 5... I don't remember too much about it, though, so I was keen to see it again from a grown-up's perspective.

I really wish I'd stuck with not remembering much and left the film in the past. It was PAINFUL. Don't get me wrong, I like 'happy' films. I'm a total Disneyphile. But The Wizard of Oz was soooo sugary I near enough slipped into a diabetic coma. The sets looked as if a good sneeze would blow them over, never mind a tornado. Yes, the film was made in 1939, but Citizen Kane was released only two years later and technically it's far, far superior. Oz looked like a crappy budget theme park and I never found myself being immersed in the film at all.

The acting is so mannered and unconvincing, it's difficult to engage with the characters at any point. I didn't really care if bratty Dorothy ever made it home or not. The characters all seemed like cardboard cut-outs with no depth whatsoever- they were as wooden as the shonky sets. One thing I do remember from childhood is being terrified of the dancing midgets... sorry, Munchkins... which is still true. I also felt like the whole moral of the film- "there's no place like home"- was a bit weak and there wasn't much of a plot. (Girl runs away- tries to get home- gets home- end). Overall then, a thumbs down from me. I'll stick with Return to Oz, thanks very much!

One thing I will say in the film's favour, though.... wasn't Toto cute???

I Got My Festive Hat On!

Well, not really. It's only November, they're not on sale yet. Buuuuuut Halloween this year was a damp squib for me as I was sans costume/fundage, and my birthday shall more than likely be spent crying in a corner muttering about "the ravages of time". SO, forgive me if I want to indulge in a li'l Christmas cheer early, huh? I mean, the red cups are back in Starbucks!

Anyways, the whole point of that was... I've realised that all I've watched lately have been horror films and class screenings. Which is all well and good, but a bit of variety never goes amiss and as such, I have compiled a list of my Five Favourite Warm Fuzzy Christmas Movies to get me in the mood for the coming season...

First off is one of my favourite movies of all time, seasonal or otherwise- Muppet Christmas Carol!!! As a childhood Muppets devotee, this film has had a special place in my heart since I saw it in the pictures aged 6. I won't go into the plot in too much detail, as pretty much everyone's familiar with it- miserly Ebenezer Scrooge (a PERFECTLY cast Michael Caine, who retains his dignity despite starring alongside puppets) is visited by 3 ghosts on Christmas Eve, who warn him that unless he changes his ways he will be condemned to a miserable, lonely death and an eternity in chains.
What makes this different is the huge helping of humour courtesy of the Muppets, and songs which I dare anyone not to sing along to. Oddly for such a movie, the sets are fantastic- the opening scene where the camera likes over snowy Dickensian London, with the stirring theme music playing over the top, looks utterly convincig...in a Muppet-y sort of way.
The emotional elements are also handled sensitively, and despite this being a kid's Christmas movie it's not shmaltzy at all. For me, it's not Christmas unless I watch this film- one of the best feel-good films.
(One thing to look out for also, which I've only noticed as I've gotten older- when Scrooge throws the charity collectors Bunsen and Beaker out of his office, Beaker clearly flips Scrooge the finger- hilarious!!!)
Tragically though, my DVD version doesn't have the song Bell sings to Scrooge in a flashback... I'll have to dig out my tired old VHS copy for the full experience...even though it makes me cry like a little girl, which is NOT good for my image! In saying that, if this film doesn't invoke a tear, a laugh or squidgy warm feeling, you are clearly beyond redemption and DEAD INSIDE, y'hear???

Is it a Christmas film? Is it a Halloween film? Well, for me, I watched this for the first time on Christmas Day so it falls into the former- although it's one of the few 'festive' treats that can be watched any time of year. The jerky stop-motion animation suits the quirky, darkly gothic tone perfectly, and Danny Elfman's bewitching soundtrack is not only immensely sing-able but also carries the story. The problem with alot of musicals is that the songs are superfluous to the storytelling but here, they actually form a large part of the narrative. From 'This is Halloween', which opens the film, to Jack Skellington's 'What's This?' upon discovery of Christmas Town, to the sweetly melancholy 'Sally's Song'... it's one of my favourite soundtracks ever, as it rarely if ever hits a duff note.

I've already professed my love for Tim Burton on a previous blog, so I won't bore you with it again, but I truly think this is a classic movie. It's spooky enough for adults, whimsical enough for kids, and the budding romance between the two lead characters is refreshing as Jack is actually pursued by scientist's assistant Sally. Despite being a cartoon character she's actually a strong female lead with an agenda other than getting a man to notice her.

Sexual politics aside (did I really just say that about Nightmare? I'm reading FAR too deeply into this...), this is a Christmas treat with several tricks up its sleeve- original, edgy, sweet and dark, it strikes a perfect balance. The perfect movie for an 'alternative' yuletide!

Perhaps an unusual addition to the 'Favourite Christmas Films', what with it being a high-concept, explosions-packed 80s action movie. Not traditionally the kind of thing you'd watch with your nan after turkey and crackers, but it's set at Christmas time, therefore it is eligible for my list!

I'm not usually a fan of action movies- I usually find them brainless, far too masculine (kind of homo-erotic, really) and alot of the time big explosions are shoe-horned in to replace decent storytelling and bland characterisation. However, Die Hard has been a firm favourite of mine for years. Bruce Willis brings credibility and razor-sharp wisecracks to the role of NYPD cop John McClane, who's visiting his estranged wife in LA for 'the holidays'. What he didn't count on was the arrival of Curiously Attractive Older Man Alan Rickman, and his rag-tag band of hostage takers. Brucey Baby is the only one not in the room when the gang arrive, and so *in voice of omnipresent gravelly-sounding trailer man* it's up to him to fend off the bad guys and make sure help arrives in time. Amazingly, he does it all without shoes! What a man!

Even if you don't usually like this kind of film it's worth a watch- more intelligent than most, with some eye-popping action and sterling performances. In fact, even the sequels are worth a watch (Die Hard 4.0 NOT included).

Here's another musical- there's just something about this time of year that brings out the closet singalong fan in me, what can I say. Also, it's another Dickens adaptation, although quite different to the last! Lionel Bart's classic adaptation of Oliver Twist is just brilliant. A huge, epic, all-singing, all-dancing ensemble affair that you just don't see anymore.

Oliver Reed's mad-eyed 'Bill Sykes' and Ron Moody's 'Fagin' are to me, the best portrayals of their respective roles- I attempted to watch Roman Polanski's version and it just wasn't the same...in fact, I felt a little bit dejected after watching, and wanted to put on Oliver! straight away to rectify my mood!

Again, I know every word to every song, and it always cheers me up the instant I hear Artful Dodger's 'Consider Yourself'... I always wanted to be him as a kid, but in my school's Christmas version I got stuck as one of four Nancys...disappointing. Ah, well. It doesn't diminish the film at all, it's one of the all-time classic family films and not one to be watched alone.

And finally, the 5th film on my list- the classic, Home Alone 2-Lost In New York. This is one of the few films which I actually prefer to the original- I reckon for every one time I've watched Home Alone, I've seen this about 3. This film has alot to do with my developing an obsession with New York from a young age. It's a triumph of 'lost kid takes on bad guys' that I loved as a child, I only wished I could be as inventive as Kevin McCallister.

I absolutely love this film to this day, I think because it resonates so much with my inner child. I mean, who wouldn't love to run wild in New York with an unlimited credit card? Especially at the age of 10! Sadly though, my parents always remembered to take me on holiday with them...*sigh* There are so many magical scenes, like when Kevin befriends Pigeon Lady in Central Park, or when he enters the big toy store for the first time... Yes, the plot's pretty much identical to the first one, but so what? It's still laugh-out-loud funny, and it's always fun to watch a kid outsmart two grown up (completely incompetent) baddies. This is one film to silence your inner cynic- and probably as far removed from Die Hard as a Christmas film can be!

ANYWAY. That took a fair bit longer than I expected and if you're done reading, it's probably somewhere around New Year. I'm off to make mulled wine and mime along to Mariah Carey while wearing a reindeer jumper. Maybe. Ho ho ho!

48 Hours In The Life Of My TV

Usually, writing down everything I watched on TV in 48 hours would be a piece of cake. Unfortunately moving home has meant I don't get free reign on the TV anymore, and as a result my viewing quota is a little bit lower than usual... As a result, this isn't so much everything I watched in 48 hours, more "What I Watched Over A Few Days Condensed Into 2

First up was last week's episode of Flashforward (Five), which I watched on Sunday (1/11/09)- I missed it when it was originally aired last Monday, all I can say is thank God for endless catch-ups!

It's not often I get engrossed in TV dramas beyond the first few episodes... I gave up on Heroes halfway into Season 1 (what seemed like the climax was actually the series' midpoint, after that it was just boring). I didn't get into Lost at all, and BBC3's Harper's Island seemed promising, but was let down by a cast I'd happily have all seen killed off.

Flashforward though, is the exception. It's had me gripped from the beginning as it has a genuinely interesting premise. I really want to see how the series plays out, considering we've already seen the future through everyone's 'flashforward' in episode 1.

It's a twisty-turny type of programme, so I tend to watch it on my own- otherwise I end up distracted and missing parts which, knowing me, are always crucial to what's going to happen next. Such is my dedication to this show, however, I've even set up a series link on Sky+ to make sure I don't miss a thing. Commitment!!

By this point it was getting late and I was in the mood for some easy viewing- roll up, American Dad! (BBC3). I've grown a li'l bit tired of endless repeats of Family Guy, so I was most excited when the Beeb started showing new episodes of creator Seth McFarlane's more recent cartoon.

It's edgier and alot more satirical than Family Guy, and the humour is alot less scattered- whereas with FG you tend to remember clips and specific jokes rather than full episodes, with American Dad! the storyline seems alot more coherent. Also, there are fewer American pop-culture in jokes than its predecessor. Kind of odd considering the title, but the humour seems to be alot more political. This definitely gives has a broader international appeal than US sports and TV references which, try as I may, do not understand. They poke fun at hot-button subjects, like American attitudes to terrorism, and the rivalry between Liberals and Democrats. It's silly in a grown up kind of way- a grown up kind of way that makes me feel slightly better about spending the evening watching cartoons...

On Monday 2nd, I only really sat down to watch Flashforward episode 6 (Five). After the nail-biting climatic shoot-out of last week, I didn't think the show could make me into any more of a fangirl than I already am. I was wrong. Just over 1/4 of the way through the series and already the lives of some characters are echoing those of their visions. For some, the frightening and somewhat unwelcome prophecies are becoming more and more intrinsic in their lives. For others, their visions couldn't be further removed from current reality. Tightly plotted, fast paced and with great performances all round -this is a taut, tense thriller and one I reckon everyone should check out. (Start from episode 1 if you can though- my mum tried to watch this episode to see what the fuss was about and gave up after 10 minutes of me attempting to catch her up. Ah, well).

OK, confession time- I only saw the original Halloween for the first time a few days ago. I loved it (OBV), and so The Boy recorded the Rob Zombie remake for me the next day (Sky+ from Sky Sci-Fi/Horror). I'll save my full analysis for a proper 'film blog', but I will say that this 're-imagining' left me with mixed emotions. Initially we were glued to the screen- for the first 20/30 minutes we get alot more of Michael Myers' back story, and he kills more people in the opening scenes than he does in the entirety of the John Carpenter original. It's a gleefully gory slash 'n' stalk, and Mr. Zombie stamps his trademark style all over the first half-hour. However, once the "re-imagining" part is over, we're introduced to Laurie and the film becomes a retread of the original- which is when we stopped paying quite so much attention and played an almighty tournament of Switch. (10-8 to me- he won't be so cocky next time!).

Another big American import which I've fallen for is Lie To Me (Sky 1). I missed most of the first season since I didn't have Sky, but again thanks to the magic of Sky+ I've managed to see all of season 2. Tim Roth plays Cal Lightman, who's basically a human lie detector. He and his colleagues at the Lightman Group assist in enquiries with third parties- kind of like private investigators. It's an interesting concept, similar to fellow ex-pat Hugh Laurie's turn in House.

This week's episode saw Lightman held hostage by a man accused of murdering his wife. Desperate to clear his name, he forces Cal to investigate the case without involving the police. There was genuine threat as the group, in a race against time, detected the man's shift from anxiety to extreme anger and irrationality... would he make good on his threat? You'll have to tune in and see....

Finally, it was time for some light night-time viewing before dropping off. Unfortunately it was rather late and the only thing I hadn't seen that looked remotely interesting was Hostel Part II.

I haven't yet watched the first Hostel movie, but I was assured it didn't require much explanation to understand the sequel. It didn't. I watched a whole 43 minutes and changed the channel. I'm not really a huge fan of this new genre of 'torture-porn'- it just seems like gore for gore's sake. Not even 'Quentin Tarantion presents...' could entice me to watch any further. The characters are obnoxious American tourists (yaaawwwwn...) who were so irritatingly stupid that I found it impossible to root for them and actually found myself rolling my eyes and tutting at the TV. Like a cranky old man. Goodnight!

"They Are Neither People Nor Animals..."

"...but something in between"

Yes that's right, I'm talking about WEREWOLVES. In anticipation of the release of The Wolfman next year, and because, y'know, it was Hallowe'en, I decided to investigate a classic of the genre from 1981- The Howling.

Although somewhat overshadowed by the better known American Werewolf in London, I'd definitely recommend this film first. It opens with popular TV anchor Karen White (Dee Wallace, aka Elliot's mum from ET, fact fans!) as she tracks down notorious serial killer Eddie the Mangler to a porno shop in LA. After a traumatic encounter he is shot dead by police, and Karen is left physically unharmed but severely mentally scarred and unable to remember what happened. Following a breakdown live on air, her psychiatrist Dr. Waggner recommends she and her husband Bill re-locate to his remote resort in the country, known as The Colony, to relax and hopefully piece together her ordeal. However, after hearing howling in the middle of the night, and discovering the mangled corpse of a sheep the next morning, she discovers that all is not what it seems in the idyllic retreat. As it happens, The Colony is home to a pack of....WEREWOLVES!! Eeek!

I'm always a bit dubious about horror films involving things like werewolves. Older films tend to look clunky and, well, a bit crap, while modern films are so over-CGI'd that it's impossible to feel remotely scared because it feels like you're watching a computer game. I mean, where's the threat in that? Van Helsing is one such film which suffered badly from CGI-saturation. Good premise, terribly executed, and oh-so-painfully slick. Silent Hill suffered a similarly tragic fate, although it's let off on the grounds that it's actually based on a video game (and a bloody good one at that).

No such problems with The Howling! It's a genuinely frightening gem, which fully deserves its reputation as the film that revolutionised the genre.

The human-to-werewolf transformations alone make it worth the watch- bearing in mind this was made almost 30 years ago, before the dastardly dawn of computer special effects (as you can probably tell I'm not a fan). A werewolf transformation sex-scene is a mid-point standout. As the human character's nose grows into a snout and his teeth into snarling fangs, you can see why the film earned is revered as such a classic of its time.

The atmosphere of The Colony is captured perfectly by the cinematography- the eerie crackling darkness, the lingering fog, the neon lights of sleazy downtown LA... The editing is also really good, keeping the pace slow and creepy when Karen is tracking down Eddie, and fast paced and frantic when she's stumbling around the woods or trying to escape.

The story is tightly plotted and keeps us hooked even beyond The Final Reveal. The twist at the end, where Karen reveals the truth about what she's learned on air, is spectacular, and I genuinely didn't see it coming- it was a proper "WTF?!" moment, and I've not witnessed one of them in a horror movie for quite a while. The only area where the film stumbles is the somewhat patchy acting, but then again, I didn't watch this film expecting a Laurence Olivier masterclass- I watched it to be scared. And I was.

All in all, I can't recommend this film highly enough. A masterpiece of its time, and genre, it's easy to see why it paved the way for the onslaught of 80s horror which ensued. It has the right mix of horror and delicious irony, tongue in cheek but genuinely fearty at the same time. (to give an inkling, and perhaps a gentle introduction to the style, director Joe Dante went on to helm Gremlins).

Apparently the sequels are terrible but, like Psycho, The Omen, Hallowe'en and The Exorcist, I've chosen to stick with the original. Definitely perfect full moon viewing! (....sorry, had to shoe-horn that in somewhere...!)

CIAO FOR NOOOOOOOWWWWWW! <---that's a howl by the way. It's funnier when you hear it, honest...........

Creative Beginnings- A Reflection. Oh Dear.

OK, I realise Creative Beginnings was like, a fortnight ago, but this is the first chance I've had to sit down at a computer for any great length of time, in between uni and getting the life-force systematically squeezed out of me by my Job. Thank you horrid groutish flu, for granting me the gift of time!
So here is a wee reflection on my first few weeks at the RSAMD (or the aRSeMD as my friend Jess calls it, because she goes to the art school which we refer to as GaySA... immature, yes, but we like to think we're funny and NO ONE can take that from us...!).

Initially, I was rather disappointed to find out we weren't going to be playing with cameras or unleashing my as-yet-untapped cinematography skillz (...aye right...) right away after the round the clock inductions, relentless form-filling and general social swirl of Fresher's Week. I say social swirl, I went out a grand total of twice since my work didn't realise that I couldn't go to uni full time AND work full time. Even worse was the discovery that we were going to be split up from our classes and put into groups with other first years.
I realise the point of Creative Beginnings was to introduce us to other disciplines and help form relationships across the school and yadeyadeya... still, I couldn't help feeling like I was 11 years old again at youth theatre, being made to 'be the colour red', or whatever. It seemed a bit anticlimatic considering I've been on edge waiting to start this course since I got my acceptance letter in many months ago. All I wanted to do was get right into my DFTV course, not kid on to be an inanimate object. No harm to them, but the CB group leaders reminded me of CBBC presenters on crack. Don't get me wrong, it's a good idea an'all, and once the course is in full swing I'll probably be praying for a return to simpler times of reflecting on WHERE I AM NOW.
I did like the taking photographs, and the installation at the end was actually quite an emotional experience. We had to write a fear, what we could bring, an unansweres question and a hope on the floor with chalk. It was a surprise and a reassurance that alot of people shared the same anxieties as me, and that I wasn't alone. I also liked writing a letter to ourselves which were sealed along with our photographs, which we will get back at graduation. I do have a sneaking suspicion this will be more cringe-worthy to read in 3 years than anything but what the hell, I'll just be glad to have made it that far.

Since the course started properly it's been ticking along nicely. I was originally shocked to find out we were going to be in all day, 5 days a week, but in all honesty even this isn't enough time! I found it difficult getting right into things like Screenwriting, especially since it's been so long since I did any kind of creative writing. 2 years of studying English at uni actually put me off reading anything other than pamphlets and cereal boxes, Heaven knows the effect it had on quashing my writing abilities. Over the last couple of weeks though, I've found myself getting right back into it again, and hopefully in time my imagination might actually start coming back... It's a bit like a leaky tap at the moment, and my writings and scribblings have gone from writing mini-books as a kid, to short stories, to poems, to Lists. This is where I'm currently stuck but I'm excited about having enthusiasm for the subject again- hopefully this will feed into my writing itself!

The only practical film-making I've done recently was a video art module in college, where me and Jess made a 12-minute film (everyone else's was about 3/4 minutes) of completely static camera, no lighting whatsoever, a script made up of 5 segments which were mostly written a half hour before filming, and editing which I finished in an afternoon (we were waaaaay behind schedule) on a computer which crashed every 10 minutes whenever someone connected to the internet. We were pretty proud of it, and showed it at our end of year exhibition, but I was a bit apprehensive about going into Tech Fundamentals with only this minor knowledge on my side. Plus, I'd only used Adobe Premier editing software before, which doesn't seem to be a favourite at the Academy! Right now I'm having trouble fumbling around trying to even assemble a tripod, but if we're getting it hammered into us then I guess even I will pick it up eventually!

Anyhoo, the first few weeks here at the RSAMD have gone by really quickly. It's been alot to take in, and is so unlike anything I've ever done before. I never thought I'd get excited about getting up and going to uni so early but what d'ya know, I'm actually getting used to the early rises. It makes all the difference when you go somewhere you ACTUALLY want to be.
That's all from me for now, I'm getting square eyes from looking at the screen and I keep having to go and fix all my spelling mistakes because I am a fairly terrible typist. Ciao for now! Ahaha...

My Spell-Checker Hates This Movie

So, last week, myself and the crew went to check out The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, the latest offering from Terry Gilliam, ex-Python turned writer/director/mind-fuck extrordinaire. Gilliam wrote and directed one of my favourite films, the sublime, surreal roadtrip (and I mean 'trip' in every sense of the word), 1998's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. However, since then, he hasn't really followed up on the flashes of brilliance which shone through this movie, although I was determined to view Parnassus with an open mind.

There's been a hugr amount of anticipation and hype surrounding the film. It's no small wonder, considering its roster of Hollywood megastars- practically everyone who's read a film review, newspaper, magazine or internet blog (so, pretty much everyone...who can read) knows that, following the tragic death of star Heath Ledger, his pals Johnny Depp, Colin Farrell and Jude Law rallied round to save the film's production and ensure his final screen outing was not left dwindling, unfinished, in Hollywood limbo.
As such, the film carries alot of baggage and is weighted heavily with expectation. As Ledger's 'last film' it was always going to garner alot of attention before it was even released. However, Gilliam's previous film with Ledger, The Brothers Grimm, made a mediocre splash at the box office and received only middling reviews. Could Parnassus really be the standout, the masterpiece that would propel him over to the mainstream? Or will the cinema-going public blindly troop along full of expectation which the film was never meant to stand up to?
To give an indication, we went to see this film at 2:30pm, mid-week, and the screening was fairly full. Sure enough, alot of people want to see this film, regardless of the reason.
To give the cast and director credit, the end result is a cleverly-put together visual thrill. Gilliam's decision to carry on without one of his leading cast members was a brave and bold one, that pays off in places but at other times leaves the viewer (or perhaps just me) rather confused.

The film is based around a bizarre travelling theatre troupe led by the seemingly immortal Doctor Parnassus (the second performance I've seen this week by Christopher Plummer, he was also the baddie in UP). The show features his daughter Valentina (Lily Cole), young actor Anton (Andrew Garfield) and midget sidekick Percy (Vern Troyer, aka Mini-Me!).
As part of the show is a magic mirror that transports participants to fantastical parts of their imagination, which the Doctor has the power to control. The former monk made a deal with the Devil (known here as Mr Nick) many moons ago, guaranteeing him immortality- which he then exchanged to find love, on the condition that he hand over his daughter on her sixteenth birthday. (Perhaps the biggest stretch of imagination in this film is asking us to believe that Cole is only 15- neither me or any of my friends made it through our teenage years quite so easily).
Whilst trying to figure out how to break his deal with Mr Nick the troupe find and rescue a hanging man, who turns out to be Tony (Ledger). He is taken on as a cast member, garnering attention and luring souls through the mirror to help the man who rescued him.
Each time Tony himself goes through the mirror he is transformed- first of all into Johnny Depp, then Jude Law, and finally Colin Farrell. Thankfully, Jude Law's section isn't very long. He is a TERRIBLE actor, more wooden than the Mayflower and with less on-screen presence than a bag of sand.
That Tony's appearance changes each time is indicative that the amnesiac is not what he originally appears to be. It's a clever narrative advice, albeit one born out of tragedy and necessity but thankfully it only enhances the sense of deception and mystery, rather than feeling contrived.
Gilliam has a wonderful twisted imagination, which he often lets run riot, and the film's visual overload is incredible. However, at its heart, it is a simple morality tale, which asks what good can come from betting and wagering with the 'dark side', and, when faced with a choice, will people opt for good or evil?
Thankfully the film is never preachy with its morals, and Gilliam doesn't let them get in the way of a good story. A bizarre recruitment song featuring cross-dressing policemen singing "we love violence" could have been lifted straight out of Flying Circus and the scenes inside the Imaginarium are jaw-dropping. The cast are (mostly) excellent, the biggest surprise being female lead Lily Cole. I didn't have many expectations but her ethereal style suited the character to a tee. Sadly the costume designed seems more intent on showcasing her 'heaving busoms' but she makes a decent stab at it and certainly does well to dispel any pre-conceived notions about model-turned-actresses. Her would be suitor Anton is also very good and you genuinely root for the young couple. Johnny Depp and Colin Farrell do their best with the small parts they have and grizzly-voiced crooner Tom Waits seems to be having a rockin' good time as Mr Nick. As previously mentioned, Jude Law is the weak link but then again when is he not? 'Young Michael Caine', my arse.
The main focus of the film though, is always going to be Heath Ledger. Unfortunately this is not the great swan-song performance many expected and his dodgy, unplaceable accent does him no favours. It may be that there is just too much expectation placed on a film that was never meant to be more than just a fairy-tale fable, a visual feast with strong visual ethics at its heart. Rather than being the definitive epitaph of Ledger's relatively short career, this is more like an abrupt full stop. To see him at his best, watch Brokeback Mountain or The Dark Knight. Both films showcase what a truly brilliant actor he promised to be, and could have grown into were it not for his untimely death.
As for Dr. Parnassus, I'd definitely recommend it, but I'd also say don't expect it to be more than what it is- sometimes baffling, occasionally brilliand and always very, very barmy.
Here's hoping next time around Terry Gilliam serves us the masterpiece Fear and Loathing and this film show that he is more than capable of.

My First Blog By Ada

Well here it is, my first blog... About a month overdue admittedly, but I've got them all written down so..... there's more to follow, it's just a question of when I can hijack a computer. Anyway, here goes.

Since I found out I'd been accepted onto the DFTV course, I've endeavoured (or at least attempted) to get to work on my List of Films What I Have Never Seen But Always Meant To. The list has been compiling for a few years, since Film Studies at uni opened my eyes to what 'real' films were, and ranges from the sublime to the ridiculous. So far I've ticked off American History X, Leon, See No Evil Hear No Evil and Rain Man, among others.
Considering my lack of fundage I've done pretty well, with donations from friends and family helping no end.
I told myself I'd watch them all regardless of what I'd heard about them, from start til finish. The only exception has been 'The Godfather', although I did make a respectable attempt at it. Unfortunately, I fell asleep halfway into it, and suddenly Startlingly Young Al Pacino was in Italy, his sultry Mediterrenean missus doing a fine job decorating their car with her cranium. A well made film, yes, with great performances all round. Sadly, though, it falls foul of what I have imaginatively dubbed the "Godfather Syndrome". This is when a classic or renowned film has been spoofed and referenced in so many other films and TV shows that it's nigh on impossible to watch them with an open mind or not think of other things I'd seen parodied. (see also- 'Star Wars'). My plan is to get all three and watch them in succession...some day.

I experienced no such problems with another film on my list, the trippy, ultra-violent, peerless 'Natural Born Killers'. My friend Stef had told me it was "your favourite film...you just haven't seen it yet". Since he is never wrong about these kinds of things, I was very much up for that.
And how right he was. WOW. I sat completely transfixed throughout the whole thing, only turning away to hang up on whoever was daring to phone/ disturb me. Written by Tarantino, directed by Oliver Stone- excellent combination. Much as I love QT, I sometimes prefer when he takes a back seat and lets someone else direct. ('From Dusk til Dawn' and 'True Romance' also feature pretty highly on my List of Films I Like To Watch More Than Other Films).

Performances were outstanding across the board- normally I think Juliet Lewis just plays Juliet Lewis, but her performance as Mallory Knox, troubled wild child turned mass murderess, is intense and mesmerising, balanced perfectly by Woody Harrelson's cold, calculated and depraved Mickey. Robert Downey Jr rarely puts a fiit wrongm and appears (relatively) fresh-faced as egotistical ratings whore Wayne Gale. The cumulative prison riot follows on from an interview between Gale and Mickey, in which the latter reveals why he is drawn to kill:

"I used to be you, then I evolved. From where you're standing, you're a man. From where I'm standing, you're an ape. You're not even an ape. You're a media person. Media's like the weather, only it's man-made weather. Murder? It's pure. You're the one made it impure. You're buying and selling fear. You say "why?" I say "why bother?"

Tom Sizemore deserves extra special mention for having his nose broken in real life, and keeping it in the film, blood, snot, reaction an'all. Rodney Dangerfield is also suitably sleazy and disgusting as Mallory's creepy pervert dad.
The crazed, frenzied tone and pacing of the film befits its two leading roles and it's a visual rollercoaster. When Mickey and Mallory trip out in the desert the lurid visuals and swooping camera work really disorientate the viewer, making you feel like you're there too, and unfortunate bystander allowed to bear witness to the glorious carnage.. They become international celebrities, spreading their doctrine to their devoted admirers by always leaving one victim alive to tell their tale. It's a brilliant, bloody, merciless thriller of a film and I can't recommend it highly enough. I just wish it hadn't taken me to long to see it, although I am making up for lost time. Since first seeing it in March I've watched it at least twice a month.

Anyhooooo, that's quite enough for now. Got to get to work on eeevvveeerrryything I've watched in the last three weeks