Affleck Affection

Cheese, if you ever disrespect her again like that, I’m gonna pull your fuckin’ card, okay? So you’re saying you didn’t do it, fine. We’ll take your money, and we’ll be on our way. When it turns out you’re lying, I’m gonna spend every nickel of that money to fuck you up. I’m gonna bribe cops to go after you, I’m gonna pay guys to go after your weak fuckin’ crew, and I’m gonna tell all the guys I know that you’re a C.I. and a rat, and I know a lot of people. And after that, you’re gonna wish you listened to me, ’cause your shitty pool hall crime syndicate headquarters is gonna get raided, and your doped-up bitches are gonna get sent back to Laos, and this fuckin’ retard right here is gonna be testifying against you for a reduced sentence, while you’re gettin’ cornholed in your cell by a gang of crackers. ‘Cause from what I’ve heard, the guys that get sent up Concord for killing kids, life’s a motherfucker. – Patrick

 

One of the real lost (?) gems of the last few years is ‘Gone, Baby Gone’. I say lost, but it didn’t do badly at the box office and critics almost universally praised it. Sometimes, it must be said, those critics were in shock that Ben Affleck as co-writer and director could produce a film of this quality. So maybe not lost. But then sometimes, you just want a film shouted from the rooftops. Yes, last year it’s no wonder ‘No Country for Old Men’ and ‘There Will Be Blood’ took all the plaudits, but Affleck’s film should’ve earned more than a measly Best Supporting Actress nomination at the Oscars.

Firstly, Affleck and his brother Casey (in the lead role of Patrick) cannot be praised enough. It’s only when people have that telepathic understanding of each other and their surroundings (the Boston where they grew up) that you get that certain magic that goes beyond plot and character to give you…atmosphere. The streets and neighbourhoods are not sets and they are definitely ‘Desperate Housewives’-style picture perfect suburbs. They are the places people actually live and the communities that they live in. This gives an indefinable feeling to the film that makes everything that bit more real, even when events become slightly more unlikely.    

Yes, the final twist is a little far-fetched but it sets up such a brutal dilemma for our hero that it can easily be forgiven. The film is not only about this dilemma but you can see how the entire film has been building to it, refusing t give an easy answer. This applies even more on second and third viewings, once we know how the plot will play out and we can just sit back and enjoy the characters, the mood and the dialogue. But I wouldn’t want to over-criticise the plot at all as it works brilliantly as a thriller and even has some great action. I say action like ‘The Departed’ has action, not like ‘Die Hard 4.0’ has action. Patrick not backing down to a bunch of thugs in a bar was probably when I knew I was going to love this film.  

Remy: How well do you know “Cheese” Jean Baptiste?

Helene: Who? Sounds familiar.

Remy: No. It don’t “sound familiar”, Helene. He’s a violent sociopathic Haitain criminal named Cheese. Either you know him or you don’t.

Casey Affleck is ridiculously cool in the lead role and an instant hero of mine. He’s scruffy, looks too young for his job as a Private Detective and is unsure of himself. He’s also smart, quick, tough and determined not to let anyone get one over on him or ever disrespect him. Michelle Monaghan is slightly less successful as his partner in business and at home. She’s a good actress (and suits ‘Mission Impossible 3’ down to a tee) but she’s maybe just a bit too beautiful and glamorous for a film where everyone looks ‘real’, i.e. rough. Morgan Freeman has an easy job (for him) as the moral, rock-solid Police Chief (he could phone this in, but doesn’t) and Amy Ryan, from ‘The Wire’, deservedly received the Oscar nomination as the skanky, horrendous mother of the kidnapped child that launches the plot. She’s convincingly awful; hateful and hateable. The real standout in the supporting cast for me is Ed Harris as Remy. Harris is so regularly excellent in films that he’s easy to overlook but here he’s given a complex role that plays with audience sympathies throughout and is damn cool. He could’ve easily been on the Oscar list and he gets the best scene in the film, sat with Casey Affleck outside the hospital with a bottle of liqueur in his hand. He’s very scary here.  

I won’t give too much away plot-wise as it’s best to discover these things for yourselves, but really, it’s the flavour and texture of the film that makes it one of my (fairly) recent favourites. You can almost smell the neighbourhood. There’s a sea of jealousies, loyalties, bad blood and secrets that runs through the community and, by the end, Patrick probably wishes he’d never started. That sense of reality and the brilliant acting make it a film to return to again and again. It’s easily in the top 5 films of 2008 and puts Ben Affleck right at the top of the list of promising writer-directors in Hollywoodland. Let’s hope he doesn’t leave it too long for his next project.        

Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip

“This show used to be cutting-edge political and social satire, but it’s gotten lobotomized by a candy-assed broadcast network hell-bent on doing nothing that might challenge their audience. We were about to do a sketch you’ve seen already about five hundred times. Yeah, no one is going to confuse George Bush with George Plimpton. We get it. We’re all being lobotomized by this country’s most influential industry! It’s just thrown in the towel on any endeavor to do anything that doesn’t include the courting of twelve-year-old boys. Not even the smart twelve-year-olds – the stupid ones! The idiots – of which there are plenty, thanks in no small measure to this network! So why don’t you just change the channel? Turn off the TV. Do it right now. Go ahead. There’s always been a struggle between art and commerce, and now I’m telling you, art is getting it’s ass kicked, and it’s making us mean, and it’s making us bitchy. It’s making us cheap punks – that’s not who we are!”

I recently finished watching Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip for the second time through. Since its cancellation in 2006 it has been the Great Lost Series to me – the one that could have been special if only it had been given fair chance in the fickle, fickle world of American TV. I’d adored The West Wing from Day One right through to the end, but as with most fans, a little bit (in fact, a HUGE bit) of the soul of the show disappeared the day Aaron Sorkin walked out the door. But then we saw adverts for Studio 60 and it seemed all would be well.

I don’t remember how long into watching Studio 60 I knew that it was being cancelled. I think I had seen a few at least, but with the massive delay from America, the curtains had closed a long time before I saw all of the first and only season. So who knows if my glasses were already rose-tinted?

First seasons are rarely perfect. Even The West Wing has Mandy in it. I liked Studio 60 a hell of a lot first time round and maybe a bit of that was due to its underdog status, having been hyped to the heavens and then having the balloon popped on it virtually straight away. Now that time has passed I can probably see it with a more critical eye.

So why did it fail?

1) The fantasy land aspect that is usually inherent in Sorkin’s work simply didn’t play as well here. A hell of a lot of people want to believe in a president that is genius-level smart AND pure of heart, surrounded by a group of people only slightly less talented than himself. This doesn’t have the same impact for a late-night sketch show (and one that doesn’t look very funny).

2) Matthew Perry is very good as Matt Albie. I can’t fault him or his performance, but in a similar point to 1, he is Sorkin’s wank-fantasy version of himself, writing a 90-minute comedy show every week by himself, constantly being hailed as a genius (“Are you coming to save us?”) and still being endearing goofy, loveable and photogenically screwed-up.

3) The political(ly correct) aspect of the show were a little forced at times. The show’s attitude towards drugs was particularly fumbled. The cast and crew were all too prim and proper to indulge when we could see, but it was mentioned as though part of late-night comedy furniture. Not in this convent. The drug habits of note were Danny Trip’s (Bradley Whitford) cocaine addiction which set the plot in motion with Matt and Danny having to return to TV, but was otherwise unremarkable (not for a moment did you believe Tripp had gone through any kind of ’drug hell’) and Matt’s painkiller addiction which developed for a few episodes towards the end of the season but then stopped when he decided not to do it anymore. I’m sure Matthew Perry would argue that it is not quite that simple. Maybe a second season would have allowed these foibles to flourish, who knows?

4) The two biggest character failures for me were Simon Stiles and Tom Jeter as part of the “big three” stars of the show. Neither were ever shown to have any talent as performers in the show or convinced me as celebrities in that world. Tom had a pathetic weediness which was not convincing in that supposed calibre of star. He only became more likeable through his romance with Lucy and the naturally sympathy that came with his brother’s plight at the climax of the series. Simon was often the Faultless Black Guy that American TV defaults to sometimes and was prone to giving out short, declarative sentences that supposedly summed things up adroitly and cut through the crap by telling people what to do and what not to do. He grew up in the ghetto, therefore he can teach all these lame, pampered white people about the ‘real world’.

5) Jordan McDeere was a lot of things. Smart, sexy, witty to name just a few. But a convincing (there’s that word again) Network TV President? I don’t think so. Would a Network President really hang out at a late night TV all the time, ingratiate herself with the cast, allow herself to be seem to be remarkably vulnerable to all and sundry and indulge in a ridiculous food ‘addiction’ whilst being the size of a stick insect? 6) Another ‘West Wing’ comparison I’m afraid. In that show the characters were dealing with hugely important matters that affected peoples’ lives. They joked in order to diffuse tension and the responsibilities on their shoulders and were convincing smart in their witty banter. Somehow, ‘Studio 60’ doesn’t get the same free pass for everyone to speak in the identical banter-happy, pop-culture-referencing style. Yes, Sorkin’s dialogue is brilliant, but we should be able to tell the characters apart. And sending up the importance of a TV show whilst also emphasising how vital the show is, well just that highlights the irrelevance of all these dilemmas.

But yet there were lots of things I did like and love. The stories, while never death-defyingly vital were always entertaining and that Sorkin dialogue really is magnificent, quotable stuff. You feel like you want to sit there with a notepad and scribe it down for later. His slicing of this very blog-culture I’m indulging in right now is particularly well done. Matt and Danny were a very loveable duo (I didn’t find myself thinking of Chandler and Josh at all) and the heart-warming camaraderie that Sorkin can always evoke is very much evident here. His good-heartedness and love of teams (remind you of anyone?) shines through and it’s a hell of a lot more fun than the average CSI crap. Harriet Hayes and Jack Rudolph were two characters who I liked more and more as the show went on and the whole thing started and ended strongly. Who knows what a second season could’ve brought?

Masterpiece #2 Mission Impossible 3

Ethan Hunt: I’m part of an agency… called the IMF.
Julia: What’s that stand for?
Ethan Hunt: Impossible Mission Force.
Julia: Shut up.

Yes, you didn’t expect this in the Masterpiece series, did you? I have no loyalties to the Mission Impossible brand. Part one is fine as a Tom Cruise spy thriller, in that it doesn’t blow my mind but I don’t dislike it. Part two I actually dislike a bit. It’s so over the top that it becomes quite dull and it doesn’t feel at all like Mission Impossible film; it’s a Bond film by any other name. So my expectations were not particularly high going into Mission Impossible 3, even though I’ve got a lot of time for JJ Abrams (after Alias and Lost). Having seen his Star Trek, this respect has only grown.

However, despite all the history of this most bizarre of franchises (nothing links up, Ethan Hunt’s character is not very consistent, IMF is poorly defined, the look and tone of the films is always differnt) and the soap opera life of Tom Cruise (particularly in the news at that time), something just clicked. JJ Abrams, used to establishing plots and characters in 42 minutes with adverts chucked in, gives a masterclass in re-introducing us to Hunt, now complete with his fiancée Julia (Michelle Monaghan), suburban home and secret double-life training the next generation of IMF agents. The introductory engagement party is funny and warm – not qualities this franchise had previously been over-burdened with. But do we think Ethan is going to get called back into action? Oh yes we do.

In the first of many “oh-that’s-so-cool” moments, Ethan is given his mission in a disposable camera by IMF agent Musgrave (Billy Crudup). I could sit and list the cool moments in this film (whether of action, ideas or gadgets), but it would take all day. Suffice to say, every time the film makers were faced with a problem, they managed to pick the best possible way to deal with it. Yes, it might not be as brutal and realistic as Bourne and the Daniel Craig Bonds, but it makes up for that in sheer inventiveness and originality. And it gets the series back to doing some impossible missions. Which is what we want really.  

Cruise has been better in a lot of films than he is here, let’s be clear on that, but that is partly due to the blandness inherent in Ethan as a character. There’s not much to work with and he can’t even claim amnesia like Jason Bourne can. Within the confines of an off-the-peg hero, Cruise does well and this time, more than ever, Hunt is humanised by having someone to care about and fight for. The kidnapped wife is obvious choice for a dilemma, but it works a treat here.

While the posters and promotion always highlight Cruise to the point where it seems only he will appear, MI:3 is smart enough to surround him with an excellent cast. Crudup and Laurence Fishburne as warring IMF high-ups get some great exchanges and put a fresh spin on the ‘mole within IMF’ story that we’ve seen before. Monaghan as the fiancée (later wife) is suitable tough and luminous and we are finally reminded that Hunt is not a one-man army, but part of a team – yes the team are all ridiculously smart, witty, gorgeous and brave (actually, maybe Ving Rhames isn’t gorgeous), but I can live with that when the film is this much fun. Simon Pegg rounds things off as the likeable geek back at headquarters. Finally, we are given a cracking bad guy in the form of Owen Davian, a weapons dealer and general nasty piece of work. Phillip Seymour Hoffman looks like a man left off his leash here and has loads of fun with the part. Especially when playing Hunt disguised as Davian (keeping up?). That’s not to say he’s not effectively menacing though, and the opening scene (which actually drops us in near the end of the film) is genuinely nerve-shredding.

The Gang

This should not be up there with my favourite films of recent times. Everything tells me that it should be a Hollywood cookie-cutter sequel, done purely for money with everyone involved just coasting along in a franchise that’s not setting anyone’s world on fire. I can only say that JJ Abrams, having the budget to give free reign to his imagination and directing like his life depends on it, bringing a fresh eye to action clichés, combined with an on-form cast and better script than it needed to have, has managed to produce a quite wonderful action film. It’s one of a rare breed, which actually improves with each viewing and has a story to care about in between explosions. Everything clicks into place just perfectly. I love this film.

“Raging to the Future” or “Back to the Bull”

In my obsessive need to list everything I love, I often return to the problem of favourite films, of course. Top 5 is not too much of a problem and I can generally build a top ten with some compromises – there’ll always be something that is unfairly missed out, or even worse, something that is really great but you can’t help thinking “That’s in my top ten films? Of all time? Really? That?”

But this is nothing compared to the horror of deciding on films when it gets to top 15’s or top 20’s. This can be best summed up by the ‘Raging Bull’ versus ‘Back to the Future’ theorem. You see ‘Raging Bull’ was a film I first saw taped off ITV (and so with adverts) late night, when I was about 15/16 I would guess. And I didn’t like it. It was bleak, plot-less and the only thing cool about it was its reputation. I wanted to like it, of course, because I had heard so many good things. And at that age I wanted to be the kind of film-fan who liked and appreciated masterpieces. Still do really (so apologies to The Deer Hunter, Blade Runner, Network and any others I’ve forgotten). But then it was re-released at the cinema (I’m guessing it would be for its 20th anniversary, so probably in 2000), I decided to go and my eyes were opened. Right from that slow-motion shadow-boxing opening (has there been a better use of music set to film?) to De Niro’s monologue to the mirror, I was hooked. I fell in love and for a long time it was a solid lock in my top ten, maybe even top five. I bought the VHS. Then I bought the Special Edition DVD. Then I bought the Definitive Edition DVD. Yes, that’s ridiculous, I agree.

Now so much time has past, ‘Raging Bull’ is not such a fixture in my top ten films. It’s a bit too bleak and unrelenting. It’s a film you can only experience every once in a while and so resides in that sub-section just underneath top-ten-ness. However, this is not a criticism. Even if it’s not quite one of my favourite films (it’s a gruelling experience and not one to indulge in regularly), it is still one of the best films I’ve ever seen – if not the best. It’s gorgeous to look at, for a start, but nothing else has unpeeled the stinking layers of a ‘bad’ person (simply put, that’s what he is) with such care and understanding. The film never panders to make him sympathetic. Jake is pitiable yes, but never redeemed. Scorsese and De Niro (along with many less-celebrated collaborators) here coalesce into one to make a masterpiece.

But then there’s ‘Back to the Future’ to consider. Not just any film, but one of those which made me fall in love with film itself, many years ago. I was too young to see it at the cinema, but really, I can’t remember a time without it in my life. It was a joyous experience to watch when I was younger and it still absolutely stands up now. It’s funny, fun, feel-good and the intricacies of the plot (and the imagined consequences of time travel) are so well thought-out (in an immaculate screenplay) and well-played by the cast that it stands as one of the great family films (that is in no way a criticism). I can quote it happily all day (‘better get used to these bars kid’…’is there a problem with the earth’s gravitational pull?’…’who the hell is John F Kennedy?’) and I’d sit down and watch it any day of the week. I can’t think of a single thing I would want change – Michael J Fox is superb as Marty, cool but insecure, and I do not believe there is an actor better suited to the role of Doc Brown than Christopher Lloyd. The only downside of the film becoming a franchise (both sequels are enjoyable) is that the original can become a bit devalued. It’s probably one of the films I’ve watched the most times in my life and that ending at the clock tower never fails to get my heart racing. And as soon as I had the ability to download songs, one of the first I got was “Earth Angel”.

So where to begin with judging which is highest in the pecking order? Do you go with best or favourite? And how do you judge which is which? Do you have to have a list with Oscar-winning types and one with badass action and fun? Where’s the satisfaction in that? I want a definitive list of my loves (and hates), not subsections and messing around. And therein lies the problem. I can make a rough top 50 (very rough, I probably forgot loads of films when I made it) but putting them in order was an impossibility. There’s probably no solution to this problem as there’s always the worry, when you’re past the obvious giants of the top 5, that you want a list that not only is good, but also looks good. So it has a suitable amount of ‘intelligent’ films that acknowledge your superior taste, but also shows your quirky side, your fun side and those films that you feel only you truly love. So, which goes first, ‘Rear Window’ or ‘Point Break’?

The top ten, for those who interested, looks something like this (it is pretty steady, but I can’t say how long it will stay exactly this way…):

1. Fight Club (“I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck. I am smart, capable and, most importantly, I am free in all the ways you are not.”)

2. Memento (“You know, I’ve had more rewarding friendships than this one. Although I do get to keep telling the same jokes.”)

3. Adaptation (“You are what you love, not what loves you.”)

4. The Godfather (“You’re taking this very personal. Tom, this is business and this man is taking it very, very personal.”)

5. Glengarry Glen Ross (“Because I don’t like you.”)

6. Jackie Brown (“My ass may be dumb, but I ain’t no dumbass.”)

7. The Prestige (“They’ll beg you and they’ll flatter you for the secret, but as soon as you give it up… you’ll be nothing to them.”)

8. LA Confidential (“Don’t start trying to do the right thing, boy-o. You haven’t the practice.”)

9. Donnie Brasco (“…’I aint runnin’ from nuttin’. The man I married was a college man.”)

10. Minority Report (“I just want him back so bad.”)

“So they may be gorgeous…”

“Take the noose off your ambition”

                                                                           – Red Hot Chili Peppers

The above quote comes from the song “Throw Away Your Television” – bitterly ironic since Lost is has now got me addicted to mine like a baby crying for its bottle. But let’s begin at the beginning.

Lost season 1 was a TV phenomenon. Everyone was talking about it and it was only natural that I watched. And I enjoyed that first series. I did – it was never going to be one of my top ten shows but it was so watchable and the mysteries kept you coming back for more. Good stuff. And then that second season…

What a mess. All of a sudden, the show became slow, turgid and not at all fun to watch. Mysteries were not answered – there were just more mysteries piled on top of others. It became a frustrating fan experience. And, bizarrely enough, we all knew why. Because Lost was a network TV show, it had to be planned to last 7, 8, 9 or more years, or however long the show was popular and profitable. Watch ER now after 15 years and there aren’t many familiar faces from the early years. People quit the hospital, got promotions or got other jobs, retired, etc. However, on Lost, every character has a destiny, a purpose. They can’t just have everyone leave and get a new planeload of passengers to crash there for season 12. Jack, Kate, Sawyer, etc are there for the long haul and those who have come and gone in the last five years have all played their part in the mythology of the island.

 

Right after this poor season and with the beginning of season 3 I was ready to drop Lost like a bad habit. Season 3 starts sooooo slowly, with our heroes trapped in cages for what feels like months. I pretty much only kept up with the show at this time out of convenience. It was on Sundays at 10, so what else was I going to be doing? I’m glad I stuck with it, though boy, am I glad I stuck with it. Because then the sun broke through the clouds and Lost became worth watching again. The fight-back began around episodes 13 (“The Man from Tallahassee”) and 14 (“Exposé”), both of which showcased what Lost does best. “Tallahassee” was a brilliant mythology episode, linking the pasts of Locke and Sawyer and bringing satisfying closure to the two characters with the most interesting back-stories. “Exposé” was an incredible stand-alone episode dominated by the nobody characters of Nikki and Paolo. This one show placed away from the main business of the island was the nearest Lost could come to something like Buffy’s musical episode or Dr House being stuck on a plane. Something that breaks the weekly formula and is a hell of a lot of fun to boot.         

I was enjoying Lost again and season 3 ended with one hell of a cliff-hanger – we were no longer seeing a flash-back, but a flash-forward. We were off the island. Even better, the producers announced would have 3 more 16-episode seasons and that was all. No longer would they be straining at the leash to keep things open indefinitely – the storywriters could get on with telling their story. Or in other words, take the noose off their ambition.  

Suitably, season 4 started like a freight train and never let up. Reduced to 14 episodes by the strike, it was fast, funny and sleek. Lost was not the lumbering dinosaur of TV shows anymore; leave that to the stumbling, stuttering, misguided “Heroes”. Remember when Heroes started? Oh, how they laughed at Lost. So many quotes along the lines “we’ve got writers who actually know where they’re heading, we won’t start mysteries that we can’t answer, blah, blah, blah” – how well did that work out for you? It very soon turned into a sticky turd of a show, just as Lost found its sea legs again. Special mention here should go to the episode “The Constant” (episode 5), which is simply mind-blowing TV and to the introduction of Daniel Faraday (Jeremy Davies), an instant favourite character of mine.   

 

Daniel Faraday

Season 4 never really put a foot wrong and really blew the cobwebs off, just at the time when shows can often become stale. And getting rid of the flashbacks (which could be deathly boring in the early years – Jack, Charlie, Sun and Jin, yes I’m referring to those ones) has been a massive boost to getting on with things. But I still wasn’t prepared how just how addictive season 5 would be. The time-travelling conceit that this latest season was built on could’ve been a ‘jump the shark’ moment, but instead it feels like exactly what needed to happen. There’s no other show I can compare it to.

Now I’m not saying it’s a Sopranos or a West Wing in terms of quality, but I honestly can’t think of another show that has the mix of action-adventure, science-fiction, romance, humour and a self-created mythology that all ties together so well. The show now feels like it has a depth to it and that it’s building towards something vital. They are so many threads, themes and ideas within the show that it is now impossible to boil it down to essentials. Every character has their own motives and beliefs – everyone is essential to the overall tapestry. No one feels like a supporting character anymore. I haven’t even mentioned Sayid, Ben, Juliet, Michael (and God knows who else), all of whom have contributed to a great cast in the most fascinating and addictive show being broadcast on TV right now.  

I like Lost. There, I admitted it.

Underappreciated #2 Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines

 

John Connor: So… she’s an anti-Terminator Terminator? You’ve got to be shitting me.
T-800: No, I am not shitting you.

So let’s start by looking at the things we don’t like, shall we?

1) The T-X, The Terminatrix; whatever you want to call her. A failure on several levels. First, Kristanna Loken doesn’t bring to the role any of the menace or sheer iconic cool of Robert Patrick in T2 and Arnie before him. She’s also too advanced, in that Terminators aren’t supposed to be able bring moving parts through time (a fact well-established in the earlier films), but yet she’s firing laser cannons through her arms. No way – it’s ‘knives and stabbing weapons’ only. It also makes a mockery of the struggle. You worried that Arnold couldn’t beat the T-1000 in Terminator 2, but here, he doesn’t stand a chance. She’d destroy him in seconds.

2) The tone is far too light and some of the comedy almost camp. Yes, Terminator 2 was far lighter than part 1, but where they cracked the door ajar in T2, T3 blundered right through it to make a family-friendly version of the saga. Hopefully Terminator Salvation this summer will redress the balance.

3) Nick Stahl aint John Connor. He acts well, does his job professionally (and even has some nice chemistry with Claire Danes), but he simply aint John Connor. Edward Furlong is. I know he and Stahl have both played the character the same amount of times, but it is what it is. I hope Christian Bale can make me forget that fact, but we’ll see.

4) There are some unfortunate flourishes forced in to remind us that this really (honestly!) is a Terminator film. First off, Earl Boen’s cameo as Dr Silberman – first time you see it, it’s a nice touch, but on re-watching it’s a travesty. It turns the character into a joke and the unlikelihood of him being in that cemetery for that shoot-out doesn’t even bear thinking about. Also to be filed under this is John Connor trying to jog the T-800’s memory by saying “Hasta la vista, baby” – I cannot even express how much I hate this one line. Stahl’s seems embarrassed to be saying it, but who can blame him? We and he KNOW it’s a different robot. We and he KNOW there’s loads of them that look like Arnold. This line (shoe-horned in) serves only to make the audience groan and the character look stupid, or maybe that he’s not been paying attention. To his own life.

5) The ‘emotional’ climax for Arnold Schwarzenegger’s T-800, where he is re-programmed by the T-X to kill John Connor, but somehow overrides this in order to stick to his original mission of saving him. What? Are we meant to interpret that the Arnie robot is somehow intrinsically good and likes people? And especially likes John Connor? Or is it that he has learned morality in the brief time he’s been back in our time? This is possibly worse than Clark Kent fighting Evil Superman in Superman III. There’s no defending it. It’s a bad idea. In T2, John learned to see the robot as a father figure, but that was because of his robotic qualities of consistency and honesty. The T-800 is NOT a good person deep down. He’s a Terminator who has been programmed to defend rather than kill. That’s all.

And yet, and yet, why do I like this film. Why will I defend it and open myself to the castigation of friends and well-wishers?

First off, it’s a Terminator film. It’s canon. And this isn’t a Tim Burton’s Batman situation where it’s more than easy to pretend Joel Schumacher didn’t happen. Kate Brewster (as Connor’s wife) is now resolutely part of the series and the mythology around her and her father, widens and deepens that of the existing films in a way which I think is a genuinely interesting addition to the overall arc. The inevitability of Judgement Day and the new way in which Skynet is created (via the military and Kate’s father) is a neat variation on Miles Dyson and his boffins in T2.

However, it’s true to say that Robert Brewster and his gang will never mean what Dyson, etc means to me. Miles Dyson has become short-hand for a genius, inventor, overreacher, nutty professor, Prometheus; all of the above. The events of The Terminator and, especially, Terminator 2 are enshrined in my childhood-movie-memory-bank and their legacy is safe and untouchable by any modern re-imagining. They are my Yellow Brick Road, Rosebud and “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn” (or rather, “We got Skynet by the balls now, don’t we?”) all rolled into one. However, if a non-Cameron third effort was needed (and I’m sure it wasn’t), I’m glad they did it like this. The series had been so set on the idea of “no fate but what we make” that it was intriguing to see the other viewpoint; that some things are set and we do have a destiny. After all, if John Connor is destined to be a great leader, surely it makes sense that his wife and children have destinies of their own? And that his wife’s destiny would intertwine with his at some point (whether aged 9, 23, whenever), no matter what. After two films, there has to be a shake-up in the way things are done. The first Terminator went after John Connor after he was born, the second when he was a child. This one posits the idea that the T-X is going after his future lieutenants (including Kate, his second in command) as John is living ‘off the grid’ and is therefore untraceable. Now this might not have great impact on the story (it’s still John Connor and Arnie on the run after all), but it’s a lovely little touch to begin the film and enough to get it a few more points on my internal scoreboard.

I have said that Nick Stahl is not John Connor for me, but this deserves some clarification in that I do think he does well in the part. He and Claire Danes have the thankless human roles of running and screaming, but they do it as well as anyone could. They hint at their future romance (think how weird it would be to know a total stranger is definitely going to be your future spouse and love of your life) without the film ever slowing down to get mushy and they do have some nice character moments amid all the mayhem. I particularly like Stahl’s hesitancy and shock over the knowledge of his own future-death and Danes’ clinical demand to know. In fact, the T-800’s explanation of Connor’s murder by him, achieved due to John’s childhood affection for the robot, is my favourite scene in the film.

Arnold Schwarzenegger deserves a mention as the heart and soul of this franchise (how WILL Salvation cope without him?) – yes, he definitely too old for this shit, but the guy’s still in good shape here and he’s so vital to the series that part 3 could not have been made without him. And it’s only right and fitting that this be his last starring role.

The single aspect where I’d argue that Part 3 exceeds the other entries in the series is in its ending. Parts 1 & 2 both end in much the same way. The Terminator is defeated, the hero has sacrificed himself to the cause and Sarah Connor looks towards the future with cautious optimism. Not here. John and Kate realise that they have been sent (by Kate’s father) not to shut down Skynet as they believed, but in fact to a hideout, a nuclear bunker, to protect themselves from the titular Rise of the Machines. Judgement Day is inevitable, the war will happen and it’s the beginning of the end. This bleak, almost apocalyptic ending, is very unusual in a 12A blockbuster and the courage on the part of the film-makers should be applauded.

Finally, judged on its own merits (and not the merits of its two illustrious predecessors), it’s a damn fine action film, with neat set-pieces (John Connor being locked inside the animal cage, Sarah Connor’s coffin being full of weapons) and smash-ups on a big scale (the crane chase). Simply put, it is fun to watch and never for one moment am I bored or restless when watching the film, which I’ve seen several times now. It delivers as an action movie throughout and whilst it will always be the weakest of the Terminator films (unless McG really screws up this summer), there’s definitely a place in my heart for the little film no one wanted.

Role on part 4.

Review – STAR TREK

First I should probably say this. I’ve never watched an episode of Star Trek. In any of its forms. And I’ve seen a few of later films (with Picard), but none of the Kirk ones. I’m not anti-Trek (or anti the geeky reputation it has), but it never really appealed to me and even if it did; I’m a completist. I’d have to see from the very first episode ever broadcast to the dying days of ‘Enterprise’ (see, I know the names) and everything in between. And who has the time (and money) for that? Especially when you’re debating whether to start The Sopranos or The Wire or The West Wing again from the start. 

Anyway, enough of that. Suffice to say, I’m not a trekker/trekkie. So I approached this with as much objectivity as anyone. And yet the history/mythology of the franchise still proved to be undeniable in its effect on viewing this new film.

The film gets off to a wonderful start with George Kirk having to sacrifice himself to save the USS Kelvin from a Romulan attck (after having been Captain for 12 minutes) as he hears the first cries of his newborn son over a comms system. It’s moving, stirring stuff and if the presence of Dr Cameron from “House” as Momma Kirk is distracting (hell, why not get Hugh Laurie to deliver the baby?), it’s a minor quibble. This strong opening continues when showing us the respective growing pains of Kirk and Spock; the former a rebel with a chip on his shoulder and the latter an outcast, provoked and bullied into showing his ‘weak’ human emotions by classmates. 

One bar fight for Kirk later and we’re off to the academy. Zachary Quinto has received most of the praise coming the film’s way for his portayal of Spock (and he’s good, no question), but Chris Pine is the true revelation of the film and an unqualified success. He has the hardest job in the film, the advantage/disadvantage (?) of not looking like William Shatner and some qualities to convey that aren’t exactly likeable. He’s cocky to the point of arrogance, hot-headed and bullish, a cheat, a burden on his friends and somewhat slimy in his pursuit of Uhura (or any female creature – you’ll see), but Pine really makes you root for him. He’s a walking charisma bomb here and he’s got the cool that made Han Solo a hero to millions. This should be the making of him.     

 

Quinto is good as the genius Spock, but is undermined by; 

1)       Winona Ryder as his mother looks like his slightly older sister – bad idea. And another distracting piece of casting.

2)       An underplayed (to the point of being unnecessary) romance with Uhura. Was this in the original? Will real trekkers hate this as much as I did? I’ll find out from my two trekker friends in due course, I’m sure.

3)       Leonard Nimoy. I can fully understand why they wanted to cast him. The time-travel plot works fine and having him is a respectful tip of the hat to the originals, but for my money it just doesn’t work. For all the talk of how much Quinto looks like Spock…well, he sure don’t when the two are put next to each other in the movie. And Nimoy talking to Chris Pine and Simon Pegg as though they are HIS friends from long ago. No no no, it takes you out of the story completely and your mind is all on Shatner and the rest of the originals – surely the last thing JJ Abrams wanted.

However, as I’ve said above, the time travel plot, where Spock (Nimoy) comes back and changes things, does work. I like the idea of Nero (Eric Bana) chasing Spock through time and space to get revenge and it allows the film-makers to say that this is a ‘new’ reality, a parallel reality to the Trek that has gone before. This may prove useful in future instalments. 

As for the other cast members, Karl Urban is probably given the most to work with. His Dr McCoy is gruff, dependable and just sarcastic enough. Uhura, Chekhov and Sulu are mainly there to tick the box of having them (although has a moment to shine in the best setpiece – the parachute jump), but hopefully bigger contributions will come in the sequels. The major misfire is Simon Pegg as Scotty. The sub-plot, which finds him marooned on an out-post in exile, removes him from the group dynamic (he enters the film very late) and he’s played too much as light relief. Again, in the sequel (which must surely come), he’ll be part of the crew from the beginning and this should offer him the opportunity for more depth.   

 Eric Bana has kind of flown under the radar as being an important part of this film and this may be due to him being unrecognisable in the role. I think he makes a perfectly decent villain, especially as one who believes he is doing the right thing (or at least, that he has a valid reason for what he is doing) and his scream of “Fire everything!” was a highlight for me. 

 

A quick mention also, for Bruce Greenwood, a favourite of mine ever since his portrayal of JFK in “Thirteen Days”. His Captain Pike is a great role model for our young heroes to look upto; a father figure that Kirk badly needs at the beginning of the film. 

So, overall a decent film and a very good blockbuster. The real praise must go to JJ Abrams for creating a vision of Trek that can be enjoyed by obsessive fans, little kids and someone like me, all at the same time. After his stupendous “Mission Impossible 3”, he’s two-for-two directing-wise and I can’t wait to see what he does next.

Masterpiece #1 LA Confidential

“Don’t start trying to do the right thing, boy-o. You haven’t the practice.”

There are not many films where I would use the word ‘perfect’, but LA Confidential seems to scream for that tag somehow. Everything, from the costumes to the soundtrack, the casting to the dialogue, and the way the plot clicks into place is so ‘right’ that watching and re-watching is simply a pleasure and you somehow feel better for it. It’s a nourishing movie experience. This is despite the unsympathetic characters, the labyrinthine plot (which demands the aforementioned re-watching), the brutal violence and a general mood of sombreness. The sheer quality of the film shines through and makes it effortlessly enjoyable, in a way that is similar to, say, ‘The Godfather’. That’s not to say there isn’t humour, such as the interrogation of District Attorney Loew (“Call him off me, Exley!” “I don’t know how.”) 

It is easy to say that LA was robbed at the Oscars by the Titanic juggernaut and safe to say, it was. But with a film this good, awards hardly seem relevant. You have to bear in mind that not Guy Pearce, Russell Crowe, Kevin Spacey or James Cromwell was nominated for their stellar performances. If not one of them was acknowledged as being award-worthy, then there’s something wrong with the awards.  

Guy Pearce as Ed Exley is, in theory, the ‘hero’. He’s a good cop with principles, ability and ambition. When we first meet him, he’s on the rise, maybe not too popular around the department, but sure to have a good career. Ed’s determined to do the job the right way, as evidenced by his ‘pep talk’ with Cromwell’s Captain Dudley Smith. At this point his ambitions might suffer because of his morals, but that won’t last. The events of the film and his progress within the police department will bring out his worst qualities, until we see the peeling layers of his own gradual corruption and the bubble of his priggish self-righteousness is burst. Pearce isn’t exactly likeable or unlikeable in his performance, but instead gives a portrayal of a fully human character, with many deep flaws, but also brains and ability as a detective.

Russell Crowe here set his career on a path right to the top with his Bud White. At first glance, he’s a one-dimension thug-cop, a bruiser used by Dudley Smith to keep the bad guys in line by being even worse. As Exley becomes evermore corrupted by the Nite Owl case and its connection to Fleur de Lis, White slowly becomes more moral (if that’s the right word), first through his tender relationship with the prostitute Lynn (Kim Basinger), with whom he can reveal himself emotionally (his motivations and character are all-too-understandable given his past), and then through his desire to become a real detective and not merely a tool for violence. White and Exley’s eventual teamwork is what solves the case and it’s only through the combination of their better selves that this is possible, White striving to be a better man and Exley knowing that what he has become is beneath him.

 

Bud White: The Nite Owl case made you. Do you want to tear all that down?
Ed Exley: With a wrecking ball… You want to help me swing it?

Kevin Spacey arguably steals the show as Jack Vincennes (“Hollywood Jack”, “The Big V”), the deliberately shallow man with the glamour and the flash, who looks inside himself and still doesn’t find much depth. He does, however, find enough conscience to try and solve the case (as well as get himself back involved in his real passion, advising on a television show) and he pays the price for this, although you could argue justice is done. His murder is the moment of the film, the gasp-inducing shock that shows that we aren’t playing anymore. I simply would not believe anyone who claimed they saw this coming the first time they watched the film. A truly great twist, so good in fact, it was stolen and used in ‘Minority Report’, another one of my absolute favourites. Spacey as Vincennes is as good as he’s ever been and nails a hundred tiny moments, from his impression of Smith (“just keepin’ the streets safe boys”) to staring at himself and his bribe money when he’s realised the consequences of his actions.    

Kim Basinger was rewarded with an Oscar for her performance and while it would be unfair to claim that she didn’t deserve it (for what is her best performance by a distance), I can’t help but feel it was also a nod to the whole ensemble. Lynn Bracken is the most clichéd role, the “tart with a heart”, but Basinger does well within this constraint to find the woman who is honest about herself and her job and able to see the same honesty and decency in Bud (and the corruption in Ed).       

The plot is far too complex and detailed to go into properly here. Suffice to say, the more you watch the film, the more rewarding it is. I’m glad I read the novel afterwards as it filled in some useful backstory and gave me a greater understanding of the film, even though there are some major differences. The film and the book can stand separately but complement each other – the only other case I’ve found of this happening was with ‘The Silence of the Lambs’. The plot is set in motion by the events of ‘Bloody Christmas’ (the vicious beating of some Mexican suspects) and does not let up from there. Violence, murder, deception and sex. It’s all here. Off the record, on the QT and very hush-hush.

LA Confidential is one of those happy accidents, where an unfilmable novel was adapted by an untested screenwriter and a seemingly hack director, cast with unknown leads in a thoughtful, intricate period-piece and yet the result is staggering. Beautiful to look at (and listen to), expertly played by all and full of quotable dialogue and great sequences (Exley’s interrogation of the Nite Owl suspects, Exley vs White, Exley and White vs Loew, the Motel showdown). However, despite obvious highlights, every scene is vital, not just in being relevant to the action, but also by being alive with drama and oozing with style. In short, a masterpiece.    

 

Underappreciated #1 The Incredible Hulk

“This summer, our only hope is something incredible”

 

After the blinding success of Iron Man and The Dark Knight (only the fourth film to break the billion-dollar mark let us not forget) in the summer of 2008, there did not seem to be any attention or love left for the big green guy arriving late on in the summer. Financially it did fine, but the critical reception was lukewarm at best.

 

Now, this may be in part to the fact that in 2003 there was another Hulk film (you may have heard of it) called simply “Hulk” – see, ours is already better (it has a better name). People may have been confused – is it a sequel? – or simply bored – seen it all before. But more than that, it was rubbish. You can talk all day about the quality of Eric Bana’s performance or Ang Lee’s composition quality (it looks just like comic book panels apparently), but it is criminally, unforgivably dull.      

 

  

And people at the time were not afraid to acknowledge this. Lisa Schwarzbaum of Entertainment Weekly stated, “a big-budget comic-book adaptation has rarely felt so humourless and intellectually defensive about its own pulpy roots” and this just about sums it up for me. Batman (recently) is massively dark but it gets around the problem by being completely badass. I’d love to intellectualise it more, but The Dark Knight, especially, rocks in a way that a big green guy smashing shit up really should, but somehow fails to.     

 

But then something happened with the 2008 “re-boot” (not a good phrase, but you can’t really class it as a sequel). Suddenly, having a Hulk with humour and action (one that rocks a bit, basically) wasn’t good enough anymore. Oh no, we liked the old boring one. Honest. “The Incredible Hulk” is no doubt an ideal version of the Hulk saga for those who found Ang Lee’s “Hulk” too talky, or dare I say, too thoughtful says Roger Ebert in one of his snottier sentences in a review that basically compares the two instead of reviewing the new one.

 

The Incredible Hulk gave everyone a chance to try and look clever and a hell of a lot of people took that chance. “Hollywood dumbing down again; just typical!” was the common response. If the new Hulk was a KFC, the previous version was Coq au Vin and only the right kind of people could appreciate it. Well, I disagree.

 

Hulk 2003 – the trailer had Eric Bana snarling “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry” – one of the classic superhero (I know the Hulk isn’t really a superhero, but you get the idea) catchphrases. It was cut from the final film. They were embarrassed by the history of the character.

 

The Incredible Hulk 2008 – Bruce Banner, struggling with his newly acquired Spanish linguistic skills tells the men threatening him: “Don’t make me hungry. You would like me when I’m hungry”. I know which I prefer.  

 

Personally, I love Edward Norton so I always going to prefer him in the role of Bruce Banner. Eric Bana was perfectly fine too, but he’s never been in Fight Club so balls to him. Norton is always good at playing clever people (as he’s pretty smart himself), but he doesn’t often get to play nice, decent people and this is what I really enjoyed about his performance. He is convincing as a smart (too smart) young scientist who doesn’t realise just how close to the flame his hand is getting until it’s too late and his Frankenstein’s Monster is unleashed within himself. He wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, but his genius-sized brain was simply more active than his common sense and the punishment he now receives (from the government he was trying to assist) far outweighs any crime he commits.

 

 

 

I stated before that it’s not a sequel and it’s not, but I would’ve quite liked Sam Elliott and Jennifer Connelly to reprise their roles as General ‘Thunder’ Ross and Betty Ross, if only to provide some continuity with a prior film only five years old. Maybe a clean break was best for all though and Liv Tyler is undeniably lovely as Betty. William Hurt, too, is entertainingly fierce as the General, especially when telling Bruce, “if you’ve taken it from me, I’ll put you in a hole for the rest of your life”. This is one of my favourite moments in the film. Hurt is very much in the middle of a second wind, jump-started not least by his Oscar-nominated ‘A History of Violence’ turn and he’s just fine in the role of bad man who believes he’s doing good.

 

The film really excels in the introduction of The Abomination, however, and this is where it improves vastly on its predecessor. The first film didn’t know who to fight against. Hulk is the good guy, obviously, but not really. He smashes things up and doesn’t really help people. The army is the villain, but Hulk could crush them with his little toe, so this doesn’t really work dramatically. Hulk 2003 falls into a dramatic black hole having Hulk fight something like, er; his father, (who gave Bruce his Hulk-ness accidently) now super-powered by electricity wants to be the Hulk, but Bruce won’t let him so they fight and then get blown up by the army’s gamma bomb…or do they? My explanation makes far more sense than the film itself.

 

Hulk 2008 keeps things far clearer and more satisfying. Banner is on the run (like in the TV show) and trying to keep out of everyone’s way and off the radar. The army make a major balls-up by creating The Abomination and so Hulk is needed to save the day, as the only thing that stands a chance against something worse (and bigger) than himself. This is far better.

  

This final mash-up is a thing of wonder (like super-sized Spiderman versus Doctor Octopus) and comes after several excellent action set pieces (turning the college campus into a battle field is probably my own favourite with Tim Roth running round like a Duracell bunny) and lots of well-handled humour and cute touches in the rest of the running time. This is best exemplified in Betty and Bruce’s re-growing affection whilst on the run, and not least in their abortive attempt at sex. 

 

Maybe it never stood a chance. In an excellent summer for comic books and coming so soon after an unloved ‘prequel’, The Incredible Hulk was possibly always destined for a reaction of ‘meh’.  Its reputation may be restored with the growth of the Avengers franchise. But, before that, look again and you’ll see a film with more heart than Iron Man, one that is more nimble on its feet than The Dark Knight and one that is certainly better-suited to the material than Hulk 2003. Try it. You might like it when he’s angry.  

 

       

Le Grande Finale

I’ve recently finished the final episode of The Shield and I realised how rare it is far me to see a show (any show, not just ones as wonderful as this) from start to finish. I can list a good few that dropped by the wayside, through either my fault or theirs (The Practice, Nip/Tuck, The X-files), despite a good start to the love affair and countless more that didn’t even have a good start. I’ve recently blasted through a couple of great shows that were cut down in their prime (Arrested Development, Deadwood) and they didn’t get to tell their stories in full. Either way, the point is investing in a loved show over time often doesn’t reward the loyal viewer. Ask Seinfeld fans.   

 

Having time to fully reflect on The Shield 75-minute extravaganza, I can honestly say it’s the best, most satisfying and complete finish to a series I’ve personally experienced. Seven years and 88 episodes is a lot to condense into a finale, but the strength of the Shield is that every that happened since that opening episode felt like it was a result, a consequence and an escalation of that. Yes, we had a Glenn Close season and a Forest Whitaker season, but other than that, it was one of the hardest shows on TV to pin to a season if you saw an episode out of context. The entire events of the show were meant to have taken place within the space of about 3 years.

 

What this meant was that the characters who had started the show all those years ago finished it too. We took the journey with them and their victories and defeats, compromises and terrible decisions, were all the sweeter because of the time we had spent in their company. Compare and contrast with NYPD Blue, which by the time of season 12, had surrounded Andy Sipowicz with a gang of newbies, no-marks and whats-his-names. It was no wonder that the finale did not have a real impact, what with all the tearful goodbyes and good wishes being given and received by characters who’d only been around two minutes in the scheme of things. I should point out that I only joined Blue around season 5, but screw it, I was still a fan for a good long while.  

 

A similar problem of cast changes affected The West Wing, although not to the same extent at all. By the end of season 7, the cast was vast (yes, it rhymes) and while it was still a very, very good show at this stage, it wasn’t the stomach-ache-inducing genius of those first four years. Genius is an overused word (especially on my part), but in television I would unhesitatingly put forward the names of Aaron Sorkin and David Chase. Anyway, the gang which began The West Wing (and was the real thrust of the show) by the end of the series were all either awaiting prison, retired, unemployed or working for the new President. It wasn’t a terrible ending by any means, and “The Last Hurrah” and “Institutional Memory” are two of my favourite episodes of ‘Wing’. It’s just that the finale “Tomorrow” seemed to be 45 minutes of people saying goodbye to one another. It might well have reflected the downbeat mood of a presidential transition, but I refuse to believe Sorkin would have ended the show this way. There would have been a mood of victory, a celebration of the Bartlet years and all that was still to come. I guess, really, I wanted (and still want) a conclusion to the early years and what I got was a conclusion to the later years.

 

And then we come to the Sopranos – the most debated finale on TV ever (?) and the final part of my ‘trinity’ (as I like to call it), alongside The Shield and The West Wing. Suffice to say, it was a fantastic episode of television to rank by all the other fantastic episodes they gave us over the years. But…      

 

…they’ll always be a “but”, because of that cut-to-black. Always a question mark. Was it great? Was it a cheat? Do you love it? Do you hate it? Do you only think you love it because you’re a Sopranos fan and you’d eat their shit off cream crackers if that’s what they asked you to do?

 

There’s no real answer, but my view is that endings can become too important to people and too over-analysed in regard to TV and books and films. Yes, I know I’m writing about them, but bear with me. When I think of The Sopranos I think of Richie Aprille and Ralph Cifarretto and banging Russian hookers and hanging out in the Bing. Those few seconds of “what the…?” can’t cancel out years of wonderful entertainment. What were the other seasons? Filler before the finale? And the way my heart raced and my knuckles whitened as the family sat in the diner listening to Journey while Meadow attempted to parallel park was reward enough. How many shows can make you feel like that? And isn’t that why we watch TV; to be transported utterly and have our thoughts and feelings expertly manipulated to either comedy or tragedy?

 

The Shield had a wonderful finale and for that I’ll always be grateful. A fantastic end to a fantastic story, told with verve and passion. However, the real deal is the journey we took with those characters and the fun and tears we had along the way. Yeah, we’ll never get to hang out in the Barn again, but wasn’t it great while it lasted? The Shield ended as it began, which for me was many years ago on a little portable in my old box-room, late at night on channel 5 when I knew I’d found something special.