I Had Alot Of Trouble Remembering.

It seemed like the holidays were never going to end. My promise of all the shifts I could physically work fell a bit flat, and given that most of my friends have 'real' jobs I really didn't have that much to do during the day. Lying in til midday before making a trip to check my bank balance (which I'd stretch out to last about 3 hours) left me craving structure and bored out of my tiny mind... too much to even blog! By the time Sunday night rolled around, I was itching to get back into the swing of things, but all those late nights and late rises had gotten me into a pattern of bad sleep and an inability to, y'know, shake myself alive, so I was pretty chuffed that Monday was a nice, easy 2pm start.

We had a few classes with Barbara in the last weeks of term 2, talking about drama at the BBC. Drama series, I mean, not handbags at dawn drama. We kicked off the new term by looking at kids' shows, something I'd never taken into consideration before, let alone thought of it as a career. I'm pretty much hampered by my dislike of children and the fact that I find it difficult to censor myself. (I imagine if I ever ended up working with kids I'd try too hard to be 'cool', and open with a joke..."what's the number one cause of paedophilia?"* or something equally inappropriate).

Anyway, poor taste aside, it was an interesting wee class and we were sent off with the assignment of coming up with a kids' TV show of our own. Oddly, I didn't actually find it as hard as I did coming up with film premises for Richard... All I did was think of something I'd liked to have seen when I was a young 'un. The idea we came up with was all about teaching kids about art, film, history,etc by having them actually go 'inside it'...like, one example episode was about Vincent Van Gogh and the idea of a pupil going into the painting and meeting the artist. Nothing dazzlingly original in terms of format, but it seemed to go down OK considering!

The next day saw the return of Techie Tuesdays...kind of. With Ray off on paternity leave, we were led by ex-graduate Dave, which left me feeling a lil bit behind... It's always the same withe me and anything practical when the teacher really knows what they're talking about. I hear words, I understand their individual meanings, but collectively it makes zero sense to me. I spent a full term in college doing the same with Photography, I think I know what I'm doing and plunder on ahead, but it's usually....not entirely right. There's usually one vital step missing. In this instance, I forgot to lock off the focus barrel on the lens. So if anyone was going to zoom or indeed move the camera, the focus would go all askew. Braw! Still, it felt good to be getting to grips with the cameras again- it's been so long since we had a tech class I was starting to worry that my sieve-like brain would have forgotten all but how to 'click' a camera into place on the tripod.

The afternoon saw us pitch our kiddy TV ideas to Barbara and delve a bit deeper into the frightening (for me) world of children's TV. Although considering the huge potential audience for children's television, it's definitely worth thinking about. It was strange having to plan the show exactly as you would an adult TV show, in terms of channel and time of day it'd be broadcast. In some ways, I found coming up with the idea easier because it's easier to understand what kids want... or what their parents want them to watch. There was also the challenge of trying to think up spin-offs, e.g online content, merchandising, etc... basically anything which would hold the attention of the fickle young audience and encourage them to spend their parents' hard-earned cash. What was difficult though, was trying to make them seem 'educational' enough that parents would actually want their children to go online and buy tie-in merchandise... such is the challenge of trying to appeal to an audience which is arguably the most easily influenced, but also reliant on someone else's disposable income. Damn!

Wednesday saw us once more pitch our idea for our TPA/DFTV collaboration, our own take on the 'University Lip-Dub'. We (Murray and myself, along Iain and Rosie from TPA) had already made our pitch before, to Adam and Ros Maddison, but this time it was higher still....the DEAN OF DRAMA. Eeekkk! A hasty morning meeting was arranged between me and Murray, since we had to re-write the whole ruddy thing (we weren't including the music school in the project anymore, and since the whole first pitch was about "One Academy" it needed a bit of...err..updating). Also, Iain was off so it was up to the two of us to try and win over Mr Hodgart with our flashy Powerpoint presentation, into giving us loads of money and permission to shut down the Academy for the day. And we did it all without once getting overly pally and referring to him as 'Shug'.

After that, it was nice to have a wee wind-down as we trooped back to AGOS 9 for Television & Society with Andy. Only this week, we had a visit from the equality and diversity officer, who told us there were no 'wrong' answers in a political correctness survey, but that some of our answers were wrong. Huh.....? We watched clips from old, old (1970s) British sitcoms It Ain't Half Hot, Mum and Love Thy Neighbour. The way in which jolly old British family racism is shamelessly played for laughs was quite nauseating- mostly because it wasn't very funny, rather than it being offensive. I couldn't believe one of the 'Indian' characters in Ain't Half Hot was actually a white actor 'blacked up'...presumably there aren't enough real Indian actors out there in Bollywood, eh? Or was it all part of the joke...? Either way, it was truly terrible.



We had a cancellation on Thursday afternoon, meaning our one and only class was in the morning- not too shabby, eh? We continued our History of Cinema with Andy, looking at ways in which film makers tried to keep audiences in the cinemas following the birth of the suburbs. With people moving out of the cities, and into the comfort of their own homes, they could easily watch their newly-available, mass-produced televisions, rather than drag their entire family back into the city. So, what to do??? Well, the only answer, it seemed, was to create eye-catching posters which people would remember.

One film maker, William Castle, went one step further, and became his own publicist. His (apparently dreadful) self-financed feature, Macabre, offered a life insurance payout of $1000 to anyone who 'died of fright' while watching- which had the audiences intrigued. (although not those with pre-existing heart conditions, shockingly they weren't covered). With each new film, Castle introduced bigger and..is better the word here? OK, for alliteration's sake, better gimmicks to entice the masses back into their theatres. Tricks such as 'smell-o-vision', in which certain scents were pumped into the theatre when on screen, and 'illusion-o' (a kind of predecessor of 3D cinema... basically the glasses with one red lens and one green)were shamelessly employed to trick the audiences into believing they were part of an experience they couldn't get at home. Ultimately, the shclocky tactics couldn't last, although they did seem pretty successful in arousing intrigue in the trickery, rather than the movies themselves.

Considering the current decline in cinema audiences, and the rise in more and more pictures being released in 3D, it makes Castle's ambitious gimmicks seem far less outlandish...and scarily relevant to the state of cinema today.

Friday morning arrived and we had an extra-early screening- something which the more 'fragile' among us weren't entirely grateful for, but as it turned out I was pleasantly surprised by our morning film. The Best Years of Our Lives (1947) is just 10 minutes shy of being 3 hours long, but my attention was held for every minute. I actually started writing about it here, but I couldn't find any way of summarising this film into a paragraph or two...so it's been given its own blog, where I can really do it justice!


After lunch, we had a huuuuge shock to the system- A FRIDAY AFTERNOON CLASS. We had screenings in the afternoon for part of the first term, but since then it's been a cheeky wee 12 o'clock finish, regular as clockwork. Luckily, we had more from Adam on Mobile&Web Content, a subject which I've found really interesting. It's not like conventional film-making, and the whole concept seems a bit huge to get my head around at the moment, especially since everything's so new- so new, in fact, that maybe new technologies are merely being 'talked about' and 'trialled'. To be at the forefront of something so innovative sounds really exciting.... whether or not I'll be saying that when I come up short with project ideas, I dunno, but for now I'm most intrigued....!

Sooooo, yeah, that was pretty much your by-the-numbers reflective week blog. Nothing terribly new, nothing too taxing, just a nice, easy week of getting back into the groove. Apparently this is the 'calm before the storm', and the workload this term is about to snowball, so I'm not complaining too much... Like Andy said, next term is a whole new year, it'll all be about 'real work' and we won't be the fresh-faced newbies anymore...sob!

*"sexy weans"

Not-So-Superman Kicks Serious.... Butt

I really have to give myself a right shake when it comes to blogging over the holidays. It seems to fall by the wayside quite a bit. Ironically enough, I've been working alot of night shifts, so mostly I just sit on the computer, watch DVDs or take full advantage of my unlimited cinema card, passing time before I have to go sell my life for minimum wage.
Soooo, with our impending return to the Academy almost upon us, I decided it was about time to get writing again...especially after my lack of blogging over the Christmas holidays meant I had to write an epically long make-up effort to compensate.

I decided for once to follow up on the hype and actually go and see a film which was receiving rave reviews from...well, everyone. That, and posters for it were plastered all over Cineworld in the week or so prior to its release. Not exactly subliminal, but hey, I figured it'd be worth checking out. I've made no secret of my love for comic-book adaptations in the past, but the last effort I saw in the cinema really soured it for me... I won't say much more about it, except this- if you love Frank Miller, DON'T watch The Spirit. I've never seen so many walkouts during a film, and I was seriously close to smashing up both of my copies of Sin City, so gutted was I.



Happily, there were no such problems with Kick-Ass. I first saw the trailer for it last year, and was immediately hooked. I haven't read the comic, but I liked the premise- what if an ordinary high school kid, no different from anyone else, decided to become a crime fighting vigilante? After all, if Bruce Wayne did it, it can't be that difficult, right........?

Current wunderkind Aaron Johnson is Dave Lizewski, a regular teenager who's not popular, has zero luck with the ladies and isn't even smart enough to be a nerd. What he does have are his comic books and, after being mugged, he decides to take matters into his own hands, don a...erm...scuba suit and take on the bad guys himself. After a video of his first fight makes it onto YouTube, he becomes an overnight sensation, and teams up with 11-year-old mini-assassin Hit Girl (Chloe Moretz) and her ex-cop father, Big Daddy (Nicholas Cage, the coolest he's been in years) to take on crime boss Frank Damico (Bad Guy of The Month Mark Strong). Unfortunately, d'Amico is not one to let a mere teenager get in his way, and he employs his son Chris (Christopher Mintz-Plasse/McLovin) to lure Kick Ass by pretending to team up with him as Red Mist.



It's a hilarious overblown adventure, genuinely violent but also hugely entertaining. It helps breathe new life into a tired genre, currently enjoying revival following a disappointing late 1990s. It's a gleefully silly and deranged as Chris Nolan's Batman is po-faced and seeeerious. Usually anything which plays to heavily on so-hot-right-now trends makes me cringe- references to Facebook, Myspace, YouTube, iPhones, etc really date films and seem like an embarrassing attempt to appear 'in touch' with the yoof audience. In relation to this film though, it's used in quite a novel way that's actually pretty funny. Nicholas Cage erases all memories of the awful Ghost Rider and channels the old-school Adam West Batman, while Aaron Johnson pulls off an American accent with aplomb and plenty of nerdy charm.
The real star here though, is Chloe Moretz as Hit Girl. She single-handedly assassinates men twice her size all the while qupping more expletives and killer one-liners than most grown-ups. Her rampage of vengeance in the final act actually got an applause from the audience, and while much has been made of her dropping the 'C-Bomb', (and it is truly funny), it'd be derivative to her awesome performance to focus on it too much. Maybe because I over-use it myself and don't really understand what's taboo about it... hmm!

While my cinema going may have flagged slightly over the holidays, I'm definitely glad this was the one film I went to see. It's great fun, fast paced, quick witted and giddily violent in all the right places. Sure, its reliance on 'modern' references might not stand up in years to come but who cares about that when you're enjoying yourself this much? A great one for any kid who's ever dreamed of becoming a superhero... and for those big kids of us who always clung to the hope that it could really happen.

Access All Areas...

In the whole time we've been here at the Academy, I've never once sat down to watch a soap in my own time. I guess I still have a little snobbery about it. I realise the irony of this, coming from she who was once addicted to Hollyoaks, in the same way fat children are addicted to fried bacon fried in fried oil. I told myself it was a casual thing, that I was a social soap-watcher, and that I watching it for the 'irony'.... but when I found myself staying up late to watch Hollyoaks Later after my flatmate went to bed, I had to admit I had a problem. Then, like a fat child who can no longer buy child-sized school trousers, I realised I had to cut out my fatal addiction for the good of my health. I was starting to live in a world where everyone was secretly psychotic, everyone has everyone's mobile numbers and AIDS, drug addictions and teen pregnancies are everyday life (and all of these occur in relatively middle-class surroundings). It was pretty easy to go cold turkey, as it was slowly becoming a parody of itself- murderous lesbian sky divers!! Hannah getting an eating disorder- AGAIN!! No, ta.

Since then, I've not really attached myself to another soap in the same way. I don't have the patience, and every other soap is either too 'cosy' (Corrie), 'parochial' (Emmerdale-dale-dale) or 'soul-rapingly, eye-gougingly, brain-meltingly depressing' (EastEnders). They didn't reflect where I was from, or people like me. At least the 'oaks had a student union!

That pretty much just leaves one... our very own weekly slice of 'Glasgow' living, River City. I'd watched this when it first aired and mostly just cringed at the forced Weegie accents. Obviously there were going to be alot of teething problems with any new show, but I didn't hang about long enough to see how they panned out. Since our classes with Kim though, I've found myself sitting of a Sunday, watching the catch up episode... and I have to admit, it's not so terrible. I appreciate the process of soap-writing so much more now, as well as the efforts behind camera to make the show on a par with the Big Hitters of the soap world. OK, so maybe I didn't tune in every Tuesday religiously, and I didn't know all the characters/plots/backstories etc... I did watch enough, however, to get really PROPER excited about our visit to the very set where River City is made!

We drove up in Julia's car, thankfully without having to smuggle anyone in the boot. I was surprised at how far away the studios actually are- we were practically on the shores of Loch Lomond! We made it there on time without a hitch, Murray worked his best Producer charm and before we knew it we were being waved in and handed BBC visitor's passes (which I think we may have have to hand back... Ooops). One thing which initially struck me was how decidedly un-glamourous the studio was from the outside. It was imposing, grey and bore more than a passing resemblance to an outbuilding from Schindler's List. We'd been there literally five minutes before the fire alarm broke out... Just as I was pondering whether or not we'd see anyone 'famous', the whole cast and crew came pouring out. I was more than a wee bit starstruck, considering I'd only watched the Sunday catch-up the day before they were still fresh in my memory.
First off we were taken to the backlot, which is just amazing! It looks like a street lifted straight from anywhere in Glasgow, right down to the fake subway station. I managed to resist temptation to steal a menu from the Oyster Cafe, although it did take a considerable amount of self-restraint. We also watched a scene being filmed, which brought home the point I made during 'Home' about never working with children, animals or balloons... it showed the huge amount of time and effort that goes into one street scene which will probably only last a couple of minutes, and put our bitching about hanging around the Necro in the bitter cold into perspective!
We were then taken inside to see the interiors... The sheer scale of it was epic. We were informed that all the sets were built in real-size whereas other soaps like Eastenders were a mere 75% to scale... honestly, if it weren't for lack of bedroom I'd move into the 'student' flat in a heartbeat... There were lots of nice quirky touches here and there, like flyers for The Garage and mail addressed to Montego Street. I was a teensy bit disappointed that the tenement sets and the interiors were actually separate, although I figure it's testament to the success of their production design. The day was rounded off with a wee chat with a script editor friend of Kim's: it was a job I'd never even heard of until recently but sounds pretty interesting. The amount of time an effort that goes into making the show seems mind-boggling; from co-ordinating the actors and splitting their time between backlot and studio time, even down to editing out the sound of seagulls... Being so close to Loch Lomond there's alot of 'em around, far more than in Glasgow... it's not something I'd have even considered but it just goes to show the painstaking detail they have to go to, in order for the show to be 'believable'.

After such an intense afternoon of shmoozing industry professionals and behind the scenes access, it seemed only natural to pile into the nearest chippy and head for the swing park. Obviously... Nothing calls your mental age into question like frantically running for a swing screaming "shotgun!!!!!"....
The trip highlighted for me what I love so much about our course. It's not enough that tutors and guest speakers are industry professionals, we get guided tours on the sets of major BBC productions too. I still don't think I can bring myself to watch/enjoy Eastenders without wanting to drive nails into my arm, but I have a sneaking suspicion that Shieldinch may have found itself a unlikely new fan...

We're All Criminally Insane Here

Sometimes I get slightly worried at the things which fascinate me. I get totally obsessed with things which I find interesting, although perhaps they're not the most....orthodox? When I got a loan of X-Files series one, I HAD to watch series two right away. And then I HAD to get the entire box set. I've always been a bit of a conspiracy nut, and this show brings out the worst in me. I can't watch enough programmes about crop circles, alien abductions, government cover-ups and endless searches for The Truth... I'll watch or read absolutely anything about serial killers or unsolved murders- I actually think I'd be really disappointed if I ever found out the identity of Jack the Ripper or the Zodiac killer. Jeffrey Dahmer, Richard Ramirez, Henry Lee Lucas and Charles Manson.... I find them all morbidly fascinating. I can't explain why- maybe it's something about a damaged human psyche. I dunno. I was never interested enough in psychology as a subject; I guess I was more afraid of what it'd say about me. My parents are both psychiatric nurses, so I s'pose alot of it comes from them.
Whereas nowadays we have a deeper understanding of the human mind and mental healthcare, back in the Victorian era right up until the 1950s, it was quite different. Back then, the best way to deal with patients was to lock them in fortress-like asylums, as if they never existed. They were submerged in icy baths for hours or even days, until they froze or drowned. They had holes driven into their skulls, and ice-picks through their eyes, all in the name of freeing them from 'inner demons'. (I found a good wee site listing the 10 'best'....
http://www.neatorama.com/2007/06/12/10-mind-boggling-psychiatric-treatments/)

Of course, while practices like these went on behind closed doors in institutions everywhere, no one reeeaaallly liked to talk about them. Which is why poor old Leo DiCaprio's having such a hard time uncovering the truth in Shutter Island, the lastest venture between Martin Scorcese and his new muse (Bobby DeNiro presumably is too old to scale down the side of a cliff, or in fact make a decent movie anymore). Tucked away from civilization miles from the shore, the Island is home to the most dangerous and criminally insane patients in America (as one guard proudly boasts). They take on the patients nowhere else can handle. Under the guidance of Dr Cawley (Ben Kingsley), the staff at Shutter Island have a new approach to psychiatric care, that involves treating patients as people, and not prison inmates. Unfortunately, one of their patients seems to have vanished into the walls- enter US Marshals Teddy Daniels (DiCaprio) and his new partner, Chuck (Mark Ruffalo, possibly my Favourite Actor in Most Supporting Roles), to solve the mystery of her disappearance. As indicated by the enshrouding fog, remote location and creepy men in white coats, all is not as it seems on this island, and before long Teddy and Chuck are caught up in something far more sinister than they could ever have imagined...

Shutter Island is a really frustrating film to try and write about, or explain, because it's so twisty-turny that anything you say could be considered a "giveaway". Unfortunately with so much emphasis placed on the big 'reveal', it inevitably ends up being a bit of a letdown. Shame though, because throughout its running time it is a genuinely creepy, thought-provoking and intense psychological chiller, with nods to Hitchcock aplenty and some damn fine performances. Visually, the film really invokes the mood of the period, and every location looks potentially dangerous, and genuinely.....scary. The buildings of the 'hospital' are hugely expansive and cavernous, but sinister, isolated and claustrophobic at the same time. Prisoners are allowed outside, but they are shackled and watched over at all times.

The film is stuffed full of ambiguity right up until the very end, another reason why the Turning Point onwards seems such a disappointment. Perhaps I've just seen too many films which end up this way... or perhaps the build up was so hugely enthralling and thought-provoking that I'd overthought what the outcome would be. As Teddy's backstory unfolded and new characters were introduced, I thought there'd be a more intrinsic connection between the two. It seemed there were alot of missed opportunities and build-up to things that just didn't happen. In saying that, the film is based on the novel of the same name, so old Marty can't be faulted for that. I can't shake off the nagging feeling, though, that it'd have been a much more intriguing project in the hands of, say, David Fincher.....?

If we're changing director here, I'd suggest a change of leading man too. Leo has come a long way career-wise since his days of chasing Clare Danes around in a pair of angel wings, but he still only looks about 2 weeks older than he did in What's Eating Gilbert Grape?. He does a good Baaawwwston accent, and admirably steps up to the 'tough guy' act with relative ease, but overall he's pretty unremarkable. I hate to be predictable, but I reckon Edward Norton would have done a great job in the role- although similarities to another memorable film of his would have been a bit too much, considering.... Mark Ruffalo, in the role of 'sidekick', does a far better job; after his overhwelming turn in Zodiac, I really hope this film sees him elevated to the kind of roles he's capable of. And not fluffy Jennifer Garner body-swap nonsense. The rest of the supporting cast play their parts well to; Max Von Sydow is appropriately German and a bit of a bastard, Ben Kingsley is the infuriatingly cryptic, yet seemingly progressive, doctor, and Jackie Earle Haley gives an unrecognisable cameo which is easily one of the more disturbing scenes in the film. He plays mentally unstable roles with such integrity and aplomb, I'm actually looking forward to his take on Freddy Krueger- especially since the Robert Englund incarnation is more of a friendly Boogeyman nowadays than terrifying dream-stalker.

If you strip away all the intensity and hype surrounding this film, and think about it for long afterwards, it starts to crumble a little within its own story. There are some huge neon arrows pointing to its conclusion, and it stumbles a bit under the weight of its own infrastructure. Still, it's a sumptuously gothic piece of work with a neat line in Hitchcockian suspense, and if you're looking for something a bit more cerebral (sorry...!), then this is a good 'un. I was glued to the screen for the whole of its 2-ish hour running time, and it's not very often I can say that anymore.

And The Winner Is.....

On Tuesday, March 9th, just after dinner-time, a historic event happened. In the wake of awards season, after the fawning and fake smiles and industry back-slapping were over for another year, I tuned into the Sky Planner and.......watched the Oscars for the first time.

I don't know if it counts since I admittedly fast-forwarded all the breaks and dire links to the UK, and skipped to the categories (OK, celebrities) I wanted to see, and I didn't stay up all night when they were screened live, but still..... To be fair, who wants to sit and watch Claudia Winkleman yammer on to three "Oooh, it's them off the telly!" faces about who they think will win, when they have absolutely nothing to do with the awards, or in fact 'the movies', whatsoever. Call me a total philistine, and I'll probably get shot down by film snobs for saying this, but I haven't seen any foreign short films this year, so why shouldn't I skip the award? God bless the Ross then, for not only having Sky Movies (I don't...yet we have Sky Sports in my house...it's a huge bug-bear, don't get me started), but recording it for me too. I thought it'd be so exciting but really, star appearances aside, it was a long, dull affair, with too many poorly read autocues and cringe-worthy speeches. Alec Baldwin/Steve Martin as the hosts were just not funny, a few throwaway quips aside. It was like watching someone's tipsy dad make an extended wedding speech. Even George Clooney, who tries so hard wishing he were Cary Grant with his easy charm and demeanour, looked distinctly unimpressed.

All in all though, a good night for The Hurt Locker... Scooping Best Screenplay, Film, Director and a nomination for Best Actor. War films tend to kind of blend into one another for me; Buffalo Soldiers aside. And only because that was really, really funny. I haven't seen Hurt Locker, but I was pretty stoked it triumphed over Avatar. I haven't seen this either, admitedly, because my loathing of CGI won't let me... I can't imagine anything worse than sitting through 3 hours of self indulgent nonsense, without very much 'story' involved... snoooozzze. Plus, corny as it may be, it gave me a teeny bit of hope to see a female lifting Best Director. I hoped it'd have been me in my fertile little imagination, but hey, everyone remembers Buzz Aldrin, right? And George Harrison? And um...... emmm....

The icing on the back-slapping cake came with the nominations for Best Actor and Actress... a troupe of ex co-stars turning out in their Sunday best to waffle on about how great all the nominees were. I was totally stoked to see the Dude, Jeff Bridges, pick up Best Actor... having seen him in Crazy Heart, the award was totally well deserved. It proved that a great performance can lift even the most average, narratively-slight film into something far more watchable. Seeing Sandra Bullock lift the award for Best Actress was a bit of a left-field surprise, although I do think she's a good actress, even in fluffier romantic comedies (yes, I HAVE seen some!!!). I haven't seen The Blind Side, and to be honest I might wait for the DVD, but it was good to see the underdog in both categories get the top prize. Both acceptance speeches were pretty funny as well, rather than the usual "I'd just like to thank the Academy" sniffling and crying affairs.

I was a tad gutted poor Quentin "I've eaten the 1990s version of myself" Tarantino didn't get anything for Inglourious Basterds; for my money one of the best films of last year. Christoph Waltz's gong for Best Supporting Actor was a hugely promising start- Colonel Hans Landa has entered pretty highly on my list of Ultimate Film Bastards, joining high-profile characters like Alan Rickman as the Sheriff of Nottingham and Alan Rickman as Hans Gruber. OH! And Michael Madsen as Mr. Blonde. Even though the film didn't get any of the bigger awards, I was glad they honoured the right choice for Supporting Actor... Whatever came immediately after him got fast-forwarded, I'm slightly ashamed to say, but heeeeeey.... it's all about dreaming big, right? I loved UP and was again happy that it got Best Animated Picture, although I would have LOVED if Coraline had snuck up and pipped them to it...although in all fairness, Cars aside, nothing going up against Pixar really has that much of a chance, does it?

I don't feel as if I've missed out on not watching the Oscars before... I guess there's not much point unless you're staying up all night, and maybe if I'm off the next day I'll tune in for 2011. By the time I watched it, I'd seen most of the highlights on the news and in the papers anyway, so I wasn't seeing anything new. I didn't watch any of the red carpet "ohmygawd you look fabulous" shenanigans either... I can't walk in high heels and I feel like a polished turd/giant tranny whenever I put on something 'fancy' so I don't care about what famous people are wearing, really... If I'm ever in the position to be nominated for some kind of Awesomeness in Film-Making award, I plan on turning up in Converse and a tuxedo t-shirt. And the smart money wouldn't be on my chances of walking home with a shiny prize, but whether or not they pronounced my name right...

There's Something In The Water...

It was a crazy old weekend for me, cinematically. On Friday, we all saw Jeff Bridge's Oscar-winning turn in Crazy Heart, but Cineworld played host to a different kind of crazy for me on Thursday. I've been sorely disappointed by horror remakes recently, the notable exception being Zack Snyder's 2004 Dawn of The Dead which I think ranks among one of the best. Mr Romero's legacy, and the old classic 70s horrors have taken quite a battering in recent years. Land of The Dead turning out to be a stinking turd of a letdown (apart from a shining turn from the lovely, lovely, lovely Asia Argento). Rob Zombie's Halloween was promising until it finished with all the Michael Myers backstory, and turned into a conventional 'remake' rather than a 'reimagining'. The absolute worst of this godawful bunch is The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, which I haven't seen since I watched it in the pictures. Needless to say, I'm a more than a little apprehensive about A Nightmare on Elm Street. Freddie Krueger played by Rorshach? Interesting.... Produced by Michael Bay?...... Good. God. No.

Anyway, Thursday brought with it a surprisingly enjoyable romp through biohazard-infected small-town Americana in The Crazies, a remake of the 1973 film of the same name. I haven't seen the original, so I didn't know what to expect, but 'zombie remake' didn't exactly inspire confidence. Still, I figured I'd go and check my brain in for an hour or so. I'd also been let down after high expectations of The Wolfman and Daybreakers, so there was alot riding on this one. Perhaps unfairly, but in the end it was totally worth it.

The Crazies opens with Johnny Cash's familiar baritones, humming 'We'll Meet Again' over shots of a small town in the first clutches of spring. It's opening day of the baseball season and the whole town has turned out to watch the local high school batter up. Sheriff David Dutton (Timothy Olyphant) is young, handsome, respected and expecting his first child with town doctor Judy (Radha Mitchell). This is the kind of town where you can leave your door unlocked, and are surrounded by acres and miles of glorious farmland. The sort of town that's ripe for some sort of undead pandemic, then.

The game's barely begun before the town's former 'drunk' wanders onto the baseball field brandishing a gun, not speaking, not showing any emotion whatsoever. No signs that he is in fact human. The sheriff shoots him down after he's unresponsive to negotiations. His family are adamant he's been sober for two years and are baffled by his behaviour, and the mystery deepens when a family man in a similar catatonic state burns down his family home after locking his wife and son inside. The sheriff and his deputy investigate a tip-off and find a fallen plane in the local river- the source of the town's water supply. Later, the whole town are dragged from their homes into military quarantine, faceless soldiers dragging off those with 'high temperature'; unfortunately for the Duttons this means Judy. Chaos ensues as David and his allies try to find her, so that they can make it to safety outside of the town's boundaries.

It's pretty standard horror fare, but the difference here is that the gore and shlock value is underpinned by a good ol' dose of black humour. The characters aren't just faceless teens in minimal clothing, they're stand-up members of the local community, on a race against time when basically they're walking targets. Sure, there's far too many instances of people walking into rooms without realising the 'infected' are behind them, but it becomes less of a shock tactic and more of a means to keep the journey moving. I won't give too much away and spoil the ending, but it's a thrilling race against time to get there.

Sure, it's not gonna win any Oscars. Then again, horror movies rarely register with the 'Academy', so that's probably not the best comparison... Still, I went to see this film to enjoy it, not think about any deeper meanings behind it or to be intellectually challenged. It's alot of fun, with a good few scares and a clutch of impressive special effects along the way. It doesn't add anything fresh or stunningly original to the 'infection-horror' genre, and the characters are a little thin. There are some clunking references to American politics and the brute force of the military too, but they get kind of swept aside in all the pandemic fun. The Crazies is refreshing in that it doesn't offer any obvious resolution, and it's certainly one of the better remakes I've seen. It's economic with its running time and doesn't waste a minute of it, guaranteeing you to be entertained from start to finish. Problem is, now I want a sequel....and can see myself spending an absolute fortune in bottled water.

I'm A Little Bit Country

Another Oscars season has come and gone, and yet again they have passed me by. I always feel slightly guilty that I haven't watched them, considering the nature of our degree an' such, but hey. It's just on too late for me, and I don't have Sky Movies. It works out in my favour though; the Ross has it taped for me meaning I can skip past all the boring stuff and Steve Martin, and go straight to the Big Awards. I do try and make up for my lack of Pro-Plus and dedication though, by watching all the winners of the year.
This doesn't always work out so well though. After Halle Berry became the first black female to win Best Actress, I decided to go and check out Monster's Ball, since there was such a huge deal made of her performance. Two hours later, I left the cinema feeling like the whole world was Bleak with a capital B. L-E-A-K. The film lurched from one huge tragedy to the next, and I was far too young to have been seeing Billy Bob Thornton's naked ass bouncing up and down in Cinemascope. Shudder.

This time around I was a little bit more pleasantly surprised. After spending the morning with King Kong, 'the world's biggest film star' (groan!), we trooped over to Cineworld to kill some time before our tutorial with Gav. We opted for Crazy Heart, which I'd quite fancied seeing; the Oscars seemed to be all about 'Hurt Locker vs Avatar' and this little country and western flick seemed like the underdog choice. The Dude was nominated for an Oscar, but everyone seemed to be in a flap about Colin Firth in A Single Man. Plus, all the songs were actually performed by The Dude... sorry, Jeff Bridges. Sounded promising, yes?

The end result left me with mixed feelings... Jeff Bridge's performance as 'Bad' Blake, a broken down alcoholic old country singer, was fantastic. You could really hear the emotion in his voice when he sang, and truly believed that this was a man who'd hit rock bottom, several times over. Once a great country singer, touring huge arenas across the country, he's now reduced to playing in bowling alleys, unable to pay for his favourite brand of whiskey in a bargain booze store. The bitterness in his voice was palpable when talking about his protege Tommy Sweet (Colin Farrell), a young star enjoying huge success, who'd inherited all of Bad's successes and none of his failings. You could even almost kind of buy his relationship with single-mum journalist Jean (Maggie 'help, I've got the saggy face of an old lady' Gyllenhaal), and the bond he forms with her young son Buddy is quite touching. The scene in which he calls his own son, whom he hasn't seen in 24 years, is heartbreaking, yet you can understand his son's haste in hanging up.

The big problem was... not very much happened. I know that's a bit of a lamen's reason to complain, but one Oscar-worthy performance can't make two hours go any faster. It doesn't compensate for a lack of action. Bad's rehab and redemption also seemed to have a very quick turnaround. After an incident where he loses Buddy in a shopping mall, he checks himself in to AA and from then on, he's a changed man. Yeah, you get really involved with the character whilst watching, but it all seems a bit too.....easy. The story was also very slight; the emphasis of this film seems to be more on character and performance than dramatic pay-off.

Given the results of last night's awards, Jeff Bridges definitely deserved to win for his role here. He puts in a committed, totally believable performance, and the supporting players are all good too. The film is beautifully shot too, from the shadows of crummy motel rooms and the brilliant azure of the New Mexico desert, it looks fantastic. There's nothing contrived or artificial about this film, which is where I think alot of the film's dramatic gravitas comes from. Still, in years to come, if asked what film I think truly defines Jeff Bridges... The Dude abides, every time.