GET SOME!!!!

You know, sometimes, after a year of watching films which shaped the History of Cinema, and several years watching Sort-Of Intelligent Films I Think Will Make Me Look Cool to Have Seen, there's a part of me that will always love what you'd call 'Entertaining Shite'. The kind you watch with no expectations and pretty much put your brain on aeroplane mode for an hour or so.

My last cinematic outing was Chris Nolan's Inception, which I followed up by buying The Prestige and Memento. These, I'll save for another blog once I've attempted to make them into some kind of coherent timeline... and not half-watched after falling in from work at 1...2..ish..in the morning. No, I returned to the cinema, at HALF FREAKIN' TEN on Wednesday morning to make sure I didn't lose out on tickets for something quite different altogether...

Aaawwwww yeeeaaahhhh.

Action movies and most things made in the 80s with high concepts and higher budgets are a bit of a favourite of mine. I remember seeing Die Hard for the first time, I demanded my mum sign up to Blockbuster JUST so I could rent it after a friend told me all about it. Like most teenage boys, I went through a WWF phase (Friday Night Raw, Saturday Night Smackdown...ah. Simple times). I watched Face/Off and The Rock and Con Air years before I was probably supposed to. Soooo when I read ages ago about THE BEST ACTION CAST EVER ASSEMBLED- and Eric Roberts- I was more than a li'l bit intrigued.

Coincidentally the film was released finding itself sharing hype with Scott Pilgrim vs The World. After watching the only man in his 20's who still sounds like a teenage girl, do the 'adorable monotonous geek' thing one too many times in Youth In Revolt, the constant exposure of his
weedy, ironically cool face everywhere was beginning to wind me right up. Instead, I opted for the "man's" film, and enjoyed it far more than I would watching Michael Cera waste more time waiting for his first chest hair to come through.

There isn't much about The Expendables that you can't tell from the trailers, or at least the poster. It's written and directed by Sly Stallone, a man who can barely talk yet is somehow able to string a semi-legible screenplay together whilst getting thrown about by Stone Cold Steve Austin. Basically he, Jason Statham (..swoon....), Jet Li and Dolph Lundgren are a team of killer assassins, but assassins with an odd sort of moral code that means no killing for no reason. But...shock!...big Dolph gets his drug problem and need for blood get the better of him
and he's kicked out. Sly ponders this, and his lack of belief in anything, whilst hanging about Mickey Rourke's tattoo parlour/bike shop watching Jason Statham throw knives at dartboards. He is summoned by John McC... sorry, Bruce Willis who asks him to go to an island somewhere in South America and overthrow the evil dictator who's actually really working for Eric Roberts. Who's growing cocaine. And the General's daughter is a rebel who allows Sly & Stath to sneak into the island in the first place.

Caught up? Well done. You're about as clever as 98% of the population. There's also some soul searching thrown in courtesy of Mick- I'm guessing since he's the only one who could, y'know, ACT, he was just given all the dialogue. This leads ol' Sly to finally find something for himself to believe in, despite barely escaping with his life visiting the island for the first time. Deeeeeep. I kinda wondered why they even bothered coming up with character names in the first place- Jet Li's character is called 'Yin Yang' (for serious). Stath is Lee Christmas, Dolph becomes Gunner and Steve Austin's character is called Paine. PAINE.I'm guessing as much thought went into the dialogue as went into the name choices/plot twists/plot...in general... For example, Austin's ass-whooping/word-mangling style of interrogation throws up this little gem:

Paine: "Who are you working for?" Barney Ross (Sly): "Your hairdresser". Brilliant stuff, truly brilliant. Still, for all its terrible soundbite dialogue, questionable acting and apparently missing plot, there's one area in which this film pulls no punches... the ACTION. The fight scenes are bursting at the seams with testosterone and even when our heroes are enjoying some down time together, they're still having Manly down time.

This film is the perfect antidote for anything you've seen so far that has left you feeling confused, befuddled, unfulfilled or, y'know, thinking about it afterwards. There's not really a great deal more to say about it- I think I've said all I can really. Although for those eager to see the greatest sharing of screen time since De Niro and Pacino in Heat, the scene between Sly and AAAH-NUUULD is literally JUST a scene, full of cheesy self-references and further proof that former bodybuilders don't necessarily make for good...or at least passable...actors.

For all my semi-slagging of the film, it is genuinely a whole mess of fun. As long as you expect nothing from it. I even found myself shaking an involuntary pumped fist at the screen and shouting of "GET SOME!" on more than a few occasions...worryingly though, since then I've tried to watch Memento three times and have gotten nowhere, and abandoned the book I was reading for Ozzy Osbourne's autobiography. Can too much manly action really have deteriorated my brain? Ah, well. I'll just go and watch Rambo again. (Funnily enough, aside from the setting and larger supporting cast, if you've seen Rambo 4 you'll find yourself in very comfortably familiar territory with The Expendables).

EIFF 2010, Or Why It's Sometimes Good To Play Safe

After a year of anticipation, it was finally upon us... the end-of-year celebration, the respite after the slog of endless weeks of running, planning, fretting and filming... yes, last weekend, DFTV1 arrived en masse in the capital for the Edinburgh Film Festival. Given the festival's track record for launching new films (including, as the posters proudly boasted, Taxi Driver, Pulp Fiction, Let the Right One In and Wild at Heart) I was excited as to what potential future gems we would uncover. Unfortunately, I think we picked the wrong weekend to go- the last of the festival, when the Big Films had been premiered. Soooooo, gone were my plans to see Cherry Tree Lane, The Illusionist, The Dunwich Horror, Get Low, HIGH School, Cigarette Girl, TOY STORY 3... Still, not one to turn down a free cinema ticket, I figured it'd also be a perfect reason to go and see films I wouldn't necessarily have chosen to see before.

First up was actually something I thought I'd have really liked to see, even if my original choices were still showing... the Mexican 'Mariachi noir', El Pantera Negra. What is a Mariachi noir, I hear you ask...? Well friend, you're asking the wrong person, because I don't have a clue either.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4VIXtdtcbA&feature=player_embedded

Starting out oh-so-promisingly, the story centres around Nico, a dishevelled private investigator with more than a passing fondness for the drink. A mysterious phone call from 'God' sets him on a mission to find the fabled 'Black Panther', in return for 50,000 pesos a month- forever. A tip off leads him to the Pantera Negra nightclub, wherein he meets a sultry femme fatale (who is apparently Death), who wants Nico to bring her deceased Mexican singing legend Pedro Infante. (Clearly they're not as fussed about their idols in this film/Mexico, Pedro Infante looks like a caricature from the front of a tequila bottle).
On top of all this there are murdered jockeys, love interest hit-girls (WHY do all female assassins wear skin-tight PVC? Aside from appealing to a certain audience, logistically they must be a bit of a nightmare), shaky looking UFOs, lesbian martians who bear more than a passing resemblance to Frank N. Furter, underground clubs in cemeteries... it's more than a wee bit confusing, and a big bit completely batshit crazy. The film comes across as if reconstructed from Ed Wood's old prop store, with an added slammer of surrealism. I'd like to see it again... mostly because I (shame!) nodded off for 20 minutes in the middle.

Next up that day was a documentary, which is something I'd admittedly only watch if it was on TV. Which, being a More 4 production, this film would've been. Still, Road to Las Vegas sounded like some kind of fun road-trip effort. I was wrong. The family- mother Vanessa, father Maurice and their five youngest (!) children- upped sticks after Vanessa had a message from God, in a dream, telling her she must move the family from their home in Anchorage, Alaska to Las Vegas. Considering Vegas was, at the time, America's fastest growing city, this seemed like a pretty sensible idea.
There wasn't much of a road trip, as the family arrived in Las Vegas in the first ten minutes, with less than $300 to their name. The director followed the family for the next four years, through sleeping in their car, struggling to find work, battling drug addictions and grieving lost family members.
Not exactly cheerful stuff, but director Jason Massot clearly develops a bond with the family, and always portrays them without bias; while there would have been plenty of scope to criticise the family, he instead takes a step back and instead presents them as no different from any of the 7 million Americans who migrate across the country every year, trying to find a better life and the American dream. Possibly not something I'd have chosen to see in the cinema, but an honest and eye-opening film nonetheless.

On Friday we saw another documentary, although this one was as far removed from the trauma of the first one as could be. Superhero Me, by Steve Sale, asked the question previously brought to our attention by Matthew Vaughn's recent Kick-Ass... what happens when real life people try and become superheroes?


Using whatever technology he could lay his hands on, including mobile phone cameras, this debut feature had 'amateur' written all over it, but this really added to the final effect. It had a real home-made feel, and thanks to cameos from Steve's parents, friends and long-suffering fiancee (who becomes his wife during the course of the film), it's a very personal little film too. And, crucially, it's funny- from Steve riding around his hometown on a chopper, trying to learn kung-fu or writing his own theme song, he makes great use of a subject seemingly made for a documentary like this. Steve also meets real-life superheroes, even jetting off to Florida the day after his wedding to meet Master Legend- a good samaritan with over 20 years experience under his (utility) belt. This film is definitely a rough diamond, if a somewhat uneventful one... even if Steve never quite masters superhero skills of climbing walls...or even getting a six-pack!

We followed this up with International Shorts, a series of short films from around the world, funnily enough. The result was a mixed bag, for me. The first film, a Hungarian film called Birthday Party, was a beautifully shot, dialogue-free film. It made clever use of extreme close-ups, only panning out to reveal the final shot, which made the impact of the scene alot greater.
The second film was an eyewitness account of a Swedish bank-robbery, filmed from outside the bank...it didn't really seem like there was much going on, and not seeing the action inside left it a little flat- there wasn't any real sense of excitement, although it was pretty funny watching the bumbling robbers hauled off of a moped by bank security!
After this was an American short, which I didn't like at all- alot of close ups of a boring middle-aged guy, trying to come to terms with his boring middle-aged life. I didn't see any real drive in this film, there was no inciting incident as such, and the final scene- the man managing to thread a needle- seemed a clumsy and cack-handed attempt at whatever 'redemption' he was looking for. Mostly I was just irritated, and the strange use of focus made me feel a wee bit nauseous.
The final film was a strange, but quite funny, little number, about a jobbing actor sent to the Phillipines to coach call centre workers. His guided tour by one of the workers doesn't end up so well though, with his being mistaken for Brendan Fraser in The Mummy 2 causing quite an uproar. Some funny moments, and a curiously downbeat ending, made this an intriguing film, and it seemed the most 'film-like' of all the ones we saw- in that it had a definite structure.

Overall then, quite a variety- although definitely not as many films as I would like to have seen. I'd have liked to have seen more than just documentaries and short films, and I can't say I was especially blown away by what I saw. Lesson learned for next year, though... don't book tickets for the last weekend of the festival, and maybe get up a wee bit earlier to see the films I really want to!
I had also hoped the festival would change my attitudes to Edinburgh in general... I've never been there for more than a day, and I've never really been a huge fan of it. I dunno if it's unfamiliar territory or whatever, but I wasn't particularly bowled over- there's just something about me and that place that doesn't quite gel. Perhaps I'm too 'weegie'- so I guess I'd better get practising my non-regional dialect for next year!

Two Seconds, Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Camera

It feels strange to be sitting with my feet up, and the TV on, writing a reflection on our end of year films. For a start, they mark the end of our time as the 'babies' of DFTV. As of next term, we'll be right in the middle of our degree and won't be able to blame silly mistakes on being young uns any more. Also, it's weird knowing that, as far as our films are concerned, I have absolutely nothing to do. After the last few weeks, the thought of having nothing to do seems a strange and alien thing to me but hey, I'm not one to question a free afternoon to myself.

vThe last few weeks have been a flurry of goings-on, pretty much as soon as we found out which roles we were taking on for our end of year films. Admittedly I was a teensy bit terrified that I'd been made camera op with no assistant, especially since it's been so long since I was even near one. (My last shot at camera opping was Candid Cabaret and that was pretty much 'press record, leave camera alone'). It was a relief to be working with Harry, since we seemed to have alot of similar ideas about how the film would look.

We had our first production meeting in a cupboard somewhere near the AGOS foyer and after that we were ready to go. The next week or so that followed were a headache of planning, scheduling and trying to work out shotlists, storyboards and other necessary things which seem extremely tedious and time-consuming. As most necessary things tend to. I was dreading doing the storyboards, since I haven't drawn...well, anything since finishing college. Once I forced myself into it though, it turned out OK. There were more than a few glitches along the way- mostly involving unwilling agents and promises of extras which fell through. Happily (for me), this was more an issue for our more-than-capable producers Sam and Julia to sort out, although I'm soooo happy we got sorted in time. I found the way the agency had treated us was appalling- surely if you have actors on your books, who are suitable for the role & have agreed to do so, it should be a relatively straightforward process? How is that going to work when said actors are out there trying to get jobs in the 'real' world? I'm just glad it wasn't me who had to deal with them...


We also had a shaky start with our sound recordist. Since we've only had two classes in sound, away back in February, none of us were overly keen to sign ourselves up. We managed to bag one, but true to form, he too cancelled on us. Grr! At the last minute, somehow, it was decided that our editor Michael would do sound on Sunday, followed by Gav on Monday. Location-scouting was alot more straightforward... for day one, we'd be building a three-walled set in AG10, and the second day would be in Harry's flat on Glasgow Green. Happy days!

Last Saturday we started building the set- it's a strange, bizarre thing to be in uni on a Saturday, with all the junior academy types floating around, but we kept out of the way. And thankfully, too, since I'd brought my scabby painting gear with me- which, YES, consisted of trackies and a stretched out old t-shirt I haven't worn outside in MONTHS. Not exactly hot stuff, but still, it was gonna get covered in paint. We had Sam's joiner friend on board to help with the actual, y'know, joinery, so all we had to do was paint...a good thing too, those flats were bloody HUGE!

The next day was It... The first day of shooting. I was determined to not make any mistakes with the camera, and luckily my fellow DoP Amelie is quite well-versed in all matters camera... or at the very least, she knew what needed done when I was in a flap about white balancing and such. Once I got going though, everything seemed to run pretty smoothly. We were lucky that Julia Jack, our actress, really got into her character- pretty essential for a film based heavily on a central performance!- and carried the emotional weight of the film really well. It was also good to see everyone growing in confidence as the day went on; and this continued into the next day as well.

The only real problem on day one was sound... apparently the camera was switched onto 'front mic', rather than coming through the mixer, and I was more than a little annoyed that this wasn't picked up on until we were about to break for lunch. ESPECIALLY since we only had an hour's worth of tape for each day, therefore couldn't afford to go back and re-shoot. Plus, I was really proud of some of my random shots I'd captured, which were mostly complete flukes and I didn't know if I'd get them again. It just shows how unequipped we are to do sound on our own, and definitely need a few more classes in this field...

The next day got off to a bit of a rough start, since the charger broke down and refused to charge anything. Nightmare!! Amelie, Harry and I got into Harry's flat to set up, but without batteries for the camer and monitor, there wasn't much we could do. Eventually, a new charger and a fully charged battery arrived, as did our three-month-old co-star... Sam's little boy cousin, who for purposes of the film we had to dress in a pink babygrow...I just hope it doesn't scar him too much! Keeping it in the family, the role of the daughter aged 15 was played by my wee cousin Samantha. It was good since uni and work mean I don't get to see as much of my family as I'd like, plus she got to see me in action too. I can only apologise though; after my auntie saying she could take the day off school to come along, the wardrobe requirements were...uh..school uniform. Sorry, Sammy!

Tempers were a bit frayed on the second day, but after some lunch in the sun I think everyone managed to chill out a little bit. It's a long, claustrophobic day on shoot and you tend to fall over each other quite alot- especially when you're pushed for time and feel under pressure to not only wrap a scene, but make it look the best you can. I think we pulled together well towards the end, and I'm really excited to see the first rough-cut. Or, in the case of the end-of-day scenes, AKA when the monitor battery ran out and we had to rely on what I could see through the viewfinder, more than a little bit apprehensive... the words "we'll just have to trust Ada's judgement" struck a teensy bit of fear into me, I must admit! I did find that I really loved doing camera though- I dunno if it's the narcissism of people seeing what I shot, the way I framed it, or helping to bring Harry's words to life, but I definitely know I'm over my fear of camera. And who knows, maybe it's even something I could see myself doing?? Watch this space...

The Last Picture Show (1971)

Why don't you love me like you used to do?

This song, which plays over the credits of Peter Bogdanovich's The Last Picture Show, has so many inferences throughout this film. Relationships, friends, family, even the town itself gets cast aside eventually and the result is a sad, barren dust pile somewhere in Texas that is slowly dying.

This film, shot in black & white for an added feeling of melancholy, reminds me of Jim Jarmusch in its simplistic style, but at the same time looks fitting of the period. Despite being made in 1971, Bogdanovich and designer Polly Platt have created a world so starkly and believably realised that it's hard to tell it was filmed 20 years later. It focuses primarily on the relationship between Sonny (Timothy Bottoms) and Duane (Jeff Bridges), two high-school best friends at that awkward age when all there is to do in small town Americana is hang about the pool hall and try and have sex.

The odd juxtaposition of the 'Wild West' setting and the boring, unfulfilling lives the inhabitants lead make for an unusual setting for such an in-depth character study, but I think the contrast works well. By keeping the film's focus so inward facing, it allows us to get to know the characters more thoroughly. This, I think, give the final act a more affecting impact and the 'climax' is genuinely touching because of it.

It's a low-key, slow burning film which does tend to feel a little directionless at times, but I think this is the whole point. Like the wind rolling in at the start of the film, things just take their time rolling by, both on screen and in small-town life in general.

Dear (Production) Diary....

I've been falling behind a tad on the blogging front lately, mostly because- rubbish excuse, I know- it's been a whirling dervish of activity at the academy recently, and I've been caught in the middle of it. Sorry, I should say away from the academy- because to be honest, despite being involved in filmings, dancings and running-aboutings, I've hardly set foot inside the building at all.

It all started a few weeks ago when I got a call asking to be a third assistant director on Paperskin, one of the grad films. I wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but a rude 6:30am awakening indicated that it wasn't gonna be an easy few days.
After making my way to Summerston for 8:30 (OUCH!), I spent most of the day waiting. And fetching stuff. And waiting. And fetching stuff. But, in all honesty, I think I learned more in those few days than I have on anything we've shot so far. I guess with it being a graduation shoot, everything had to be done to the highest standard, and it showed. Yeah, the days were looooong and I didn't actually get to do anything filmish, but I got alot of information about how everything worked on the job. All the fourth years were really helpful, even with questions I thought might've sounded stupid or trivial. After two days of shooting indoors in some divine derelict flats, the last day I was there was in my neck of the woods- Cumbernauld. Outdoors. On a sunny bank holiday. Needless to say much of my time was spent bribing children with sweeties to stay out of shot and "quiet"...no easy feat, especially with my fear of young children. There were some, umm, logistical problems which resulted in lack of van, which meant some equipment had to be stored at my house, which I didn't mind at all- I got to show off all the cameras and lenses and other stuff I didn't know how to work to my mum, and she was dead impressed.

After that, I felt well prepared to take on a shot at production assistant on a film by Gavin Laing in second year. Sam, Julia, Lucy and I were all enlisted to troop around charity shops, trying to drum up donations to make the rented shop set look like...well, a charity shop. We found out pretty quickly that, yeah, most charity shops? Not so charitable. I managed to dig out some old railings from work (again showing off why we needed them to someone external, this time my boss- "Can we go and get the railings from downstairs? Y'know, for the film we're working on?")and managed to acquire enough donations to make it look convincing enough for the camera. The first day's shooting was to take place in Eaglesham- I had noooo idea where it was, although after hearing that it was a wee village outside Glasgow, I thought it'd be lovely. I was wrong. Cut to the first day of shooting, and I'm cycling a mountain bike to the location in the rain, waving down traffic in the rain, and squatting in a ditch by the road looking for cars. In the rain.

Soooo, not so glamorous. Still, it was good to see the downside of filming outdoors- you can have the most perfect location in the world, but nothing will protect you from the elements. I was quite happy though; despite my ill-thought canvas Converse soaking up every drop of boggin' puddle water, I got to take loads of pictures of the countryside. I was there to take continuity and production photos, so totally indulged in having a shot of Paul's SLR and got a tad snap-happy. I even got close enough to my biggest fear- a herd of cows- to take a photo of them. Now THAT'S growth!

The crew decided to forego the outside scenes in the city centre for some interior shots of the shop- a wise move considering I'd started to forget what 'warm and dry' felt like. Unfortunately, there was a small problem with one of the REDs...in that it was broken. Or part of it was, anyway. Oops! They had to make do with attaching a handheld onto the tripod... I hope the gamble paid off, because upon reading the script it was a really lovely, well-written story that will make a wonderful little film! The next day was all interior sets of the shop, so I had to make sure I took alot of photos so we knew where everything went! No pressure...but thankfully my 200-odd pictures from the day before were enough to recreate as close to the original layout as we could get...I hope, anyway!

I missed the final day of shooting due to orientation for the Commonwealth Games handover ceremony in India. Yes, INDIA. I wasn't too keen on going initially because I thought I'd missed my chance to apply, and didn't think I could afford to take the time off work, but after a couple of days I'd made up my fickle mind that I really do want to go after all... As long as they don't base their final cast decisions on my attempts at dancing on the Friday morning. I have long been aware that I am as graceful as the wreckage of a car crash, but it was made PAINFULLY aware to me how bad I was when surrounded by dancers, musical theatre students and contemporary performance students. Clearly people who have long been trained in movement without falling over your own feet, constantly turning in the wrong direction and being unable to remember the simplest dance routine. Maybe they could just hide me at the back on the actual day of the performance....?

This week, it's back to focussing on our end of first year films. It's the first proper film we've made from a script written by one of the class, and I think we've got a great little production team to bring Harry's script to life. I landed the role of camera op, and along with Amelie on lighting I reckon we'll have this cinematography thing nailed!...I hope....I wish! It's really exciting being a part of the production in my own class, because I'll actually be a part of making the damn thing in the first place. This is the part where I say "...and I'll take everything I learned on the other shoots with me". Well, I'm going to, because as cheesy and cliched as it may be, I really did learn alot from working on other shoots. Not even just about using equipment, but everything- working with actors, dressing sets, continuity, the ups & downs of location shooting and the endless headache of production responsibilities. I think I'm a little bit closer to finding out what I want to do when I'm all grown up and paying council tax...which can only be a good thing, right?

Production notes

Over the last week, in between filming, shmoozing with grade-A celebrity film makers and, y'know, learning, we've finally been having our Introduction to Production classes with Abigail. It's always been somewhat of a mystery to me what the role of a producer actually is, and I'd semi-considered it being a path I might follow in the future. My number one passion is writing, but unfortunately often I feel like once a script has been commissioned, the writer's role is done. Sidelined. In a "d'you wanna maybe mark up the tapes" kind of way. Soooo, I figured production might be the kind of interesting, hands-on role I've been looking for.

I was wrong.

Don't get me wrong, I've learned more about production in the last week than I have in my whole 23 years. Abigail is incredibly thorough, explaining in detail every potential obstacle the producer might come across (and the form to fill out just in case). There's so much more to the job than I could ever get my head around; my organisational/budgeting skills can best be summed up by a familiar phrase including the words 'hangover', 'brewery' and 'couldn't even organise'. Financially, I am an absolute mess, and would love the kind of discipline it requires to fund even a student short film. There is far more involved than I ever imagined, but the whole thing seemed to technical and..well.....un-creative. It's left me feeling more than a little bereft of ideas, and somewhat lost for what to do. I'm by no means the best in the class at camera (seriously, I'd be lucky to be in the Top 11, although not for lack of trying). I like editing but I cannot keep up with even using Macs instead of Windows and my attempts at editing our Home film left me with a killer migraine and a seriously depleted sense of self worth. And now, it appears that producing will find me out of my depth also. It's good to be learning the complexities of the job, but I simply don't feel like I have the savvy or know-how to muddle my way through a production checklist. As far as producers go, I'm probably more likely to be coming up with the next Springtime For Hitler. So where do my actual talents lie then....? I only wish I knew.....

A Moment Of Realisation Is Worth A Thousand Prayers.

As the tired old cliche goes, you should never meet your heroes. They'll only disappoint you. Clearly, those who came up with said phrase had never met Oliver Stone.
My old uni, in Aberdeen, had an annual literary festival, which, when I was there, featured a guest seminar from my literary hero, Irvine Welsh. Being the trampy, underfunded excuse for a uni that it was, there were no freebies, for ANYONE. And I was so broke, I couldn't afford the £5 ticket price for An Audience With Mr Trainspotting. So I literally could not contain my joy when I learned that 'Oli' was to be making his way towards RSAMD to collect an honorary doctorate.

I'd first learned of the World's Worst-Kept Secret when we were told during our 3-day induction, waaaaaay back in September, that he'd apparently arranged to come the year before, but had cancelled at the 11th hour. I'd like to kid on and say I was being 'cool' and not holding my breath for a return, but let's face it, I was practically blue. I cannot emphasise enought the effect that Natural Born Killers has had on my life. Everything about it, from the story, acting, camera work, the cast, everything...is just perfect. It inspired the kind of films I want to make. The combination of Quentin Tarantino's (admittedly heavily bastardised) story, coupled with the trippy direction of Oliver Stone, plus the brilliantly nuanced performances from all cast members, solidified this film as one of my absolute favourites after seeing it only once. The prfound emotional effect this film had on me is second maybe only to Fight Club; which I watched on VHS and immediately rewound and watched again the first time I saw it.

I'd been most disappointed by recent phoned-in publicity appearances by another favourite of mine, Tim Burton, promoting Alice In Wonderland. Call me controversial, but I really don't think Burton has directed a decent film since Sleepy Hollow. I'd also heard that Oliver Stone was the temperamental type, and that you never knew which 'Oli' to expect. I couldn't have been more wrong. For the first time, I felt that my class were truly a part of the Academy. Not just in the background, not filming a promo for another course, but a real, integrated, sitting up the front, big deal. As we were in row B, with no one in row A, we were practically within breathing space of thr man himself. I felt an odd sense of pride, seeing Adam address Oliver before he received his doctorate, and the same when Andy came on for the Q&A! I found Oliver Stone to be a fascinating subject, grounded in his political beliefs, unwilling to compromise in making the films he believed in, and able to take critical 'failures' in his stride. I did feel like somewhat of a total fangeek at times, particularly when there was cause for applause and I found myself on the verge of a standing ovation, slapping my hands together like a retarded seal. But really, when you're watching your hero watch a montage of his movies, accomapnied by a live Adagio For Strings?.....nah, I really don't think it gets better than that.