Cool dancing and a seminal soundtrack covers a multitude of sins it seems.

Strange now, to think that I've being watching this over and over since a wee wee-er, mostly on the strength of it being a "Disco" movie and cultural phenomenon, when the substance of the plot and script have become ever more "yikes" the conscious I have become of it as I grew older, and began to realise what a hard hitting, hard bitten, uncompromising movie it really is.

The dancing and music is only there to serve as plot device really, to tell the tale of Tony Manero, a young guy stuck in crumby part of town with cruelly indifferent parents, and among scuzzy friends in menial dead end job, with no possibility of a real future of any kind, and his role of king of the dance-floor is the only thing he has to make himself feel something other than ordinary, like the rest, which his incredible talent in this regard allows.

But while everyone is trying to live up to their own individual delusions, and conceits of themselves, each created as a mechanism for themselves in order to blind themselves to their actual realities, Tony alone begins to feel the hollowness of it all and starts to question both himself, and the character he has created of, and for himself.

There's gang violence, domestic abuse, racism, homophobia, misogyny, tragedy, trauma rape... and gang rape.

So not really for kids, you'd have to say.

Many though, will come to this due to the reputation of the music, and the dancing and cultural significance, only to discover a movie that Scorsese himself would say: "Damn, that's a bit strong!"

But strip away the these last, window dressing elements, and you still have a masterpiece.

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There and back again... the hard way.

First things first... what a stupid title for a movie!

...In fact, that's the main reason why I haven't seen this until now, having dismissed it out of hand at time of release. because it seemed to speak of the kind of moronic doomsday sensaitonalism that is the usual preserve of the like of Roland Emmerich, Michael Bay, and most other directors since.

But it's not.

This is actually a very powerful piece of film-making, brilliantly shot, with incredible imagery, excellent performances, and all set to a wonderfully evocative score.

And it's a horror movie... a proper horror movie.

It's not an "action adventure" type deal the marketing would have you believe... It is unremittingly bleak, unrelentingly grim, tense, and anxiety inducing.

It is an "historical" movie from Mad Mel Gibson, who seems to enjoy self-flagellating in public, by means of his movies, in order to satisfy whatever masochistic urges and impulses move the man.

(Probably some kind of original sin based guilt, but it's best not to speculate)

...But you know, loopy he may well be, but damn, the guy is a superior film-maker- and no mistake!

And he gets away with the "historical" license here by virtue of the fact that the Central and South American civilizations in question, such as the Maya, Inca, Olmec and Aztec related cultures are shrouded in mystery to this day, and there being no real History relative to other civilizations means his interpretation is as good as any can suggest.

In this case, a brutal, ritual sacrificing Wicker Man-esque-with-meaner-faces-and-poorer-manners culture invades a small village of peaceful tribes-people, gathers them up, and journeys back to their evil pyramids of doom in order to sacrifice them to the Sun (pretence for keeping the big-wigs in power, and the desperate, maniacal plebs in order in desperate times).

But among them is one guy who just ain't having it...

During the homestead invasion, he deposits pregnant wife and son in a well-like chasm to hide them, but, alas, are stuck there and effectively condemned unless he can break free and get back to rescue them.

The first hour and some, is this grim, horrific trudge to the threatened land, and the nightmarish fate that awaits him and his people, where heads most definitely do roll! (Crikey!), and the last twenty minutes or so is more of a genuine breathless action thriller as matters are brought to a head... or hopefully not.

Did I say this was bleak?... or grim, even?... well it ain't pleasant for the most part, but it is, despite being shot through with Christian allegory (suggested barely enough to be forgivable, and not get in the way of the story being told), visceral, and heart-pounding.

Like Apocalypse now crossed with 1917 and The Mission.

An actually brilliant movie... with a dumb title.

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Classic comic book western.

I saw this at the time of release, and remember being unimpressed by it, as it seemed a little hokey and cartoony for my taste... like Tombstone, it was a little too bombastic and "Hollywood" in all most negative, stereotypical senses...mainly, it felt like a confluence of two prime elements: One, as vehicle to exploit the rising star of Sharon Stone (Just drop her in there, and it'll sell tickets!), and two, to do so in such a manner as to cash in on the western revival / reappraisal that the magnificent: Unforgiven occasioned...

(Tombstone, in particular, felt like a ham-fisted cash in, although it is not without it's redeeming qualities, such as Val Kilmer's performance as Doc Holiday)

...But I just didn't feel this was anything other than lightweight, throwaway rubbish.

That is, until I just re-watched it, having found the DVD in a charity shop, and thought: "I'll give it another go, I suppose".

The thing is, thanks to the intervening years, I can now re-evaluate it based on what it is, not what I that it wasn't, which I just didn't get at the time...

...For this is, in stylistic terms, pure Comic Book / Graphic Novel stuff, of the kind that you might associate with the likes of Robert Rodriguez: Very stylised, with bold, wildly exaggerated cartoon-like characters, and a pure comic book rendering.

And it works.

The tale of a gun-fighting contest held in an oppressed town, dominated by archetype of evil overlord, played to perfection, as usual, by Gene Hackman, in an amplified, exaggerated version of his "Liitle Bill" character from Unforgiven itself (no coincidence this casting, for this reason I think), and featuring a lot of playing to both established types, and types to come by past and future stars of the time: Russell Crowe as a once outlaw turn repentant priest, and therefore reluctant gunfighter (at least elements of his Gladiator character to come), Lance Henriksen as a slimy, weaselly snake man, evil gunfighter, Keith David (just being awesome as usual), and a young and becoming Leonardo DiCaprio as an obnoxious, overly confident gunslinger.

And all wrapped up in one key fact, that explains a lot of what this is, and what it presaged:

Directed by Sam Raimi.

In fact, his quirky, darkly humorous style from the likes of Evil Dead, and Darkman, expressed on a big ol' budget here is probably what got him the Spiderman job, as it perfectly illustrates, and predicts, his handling of the Comic Book style, and sets the stamp of how to do that kind of movie for years and decades to come.

And lastly, it would be remiss of me not to mention Sharon Stone, who gives a much more rounded performance than I remembered, adn carries the whole affair pretty strongly, even among such heavyweight company.

So this kinetic, Crash! Bang! Pow! comic book western, laced with notes of nuance, is all in all, a pretty great piece of Saturday night movie popcorn fare.

(With all this bombast and melodrama, this would be a pretty awesome one to see back in the cinema!)

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Sympathy for an old Devil.

This one is a more intimate, warm experience than the other two movies in the trilogy, and has a more... magical (perhaps) feel to it.

At times, it feels like it could be a prototype Amelie, though minus the whimsy, and surrealist element.

Valentine, a somewhat lonely fashion model, strung along by a boyfriend via phone calls, accidentally hits a dog in her car one night, and takes it to the owner's address, where she discovers a somewhat bitter, cynical and disconsolate older man, an ex-judge, who is using his scanning gear to eavesdrop on the neighbour's phone conversations, and hear the tangled tangled nature of their lives. She, being somewhat more idealistic, and morally straight, is disgusted at this, and takes him to task about it, and something about this quality in her seems to spark something in this old judge, perhaps a hope for himself of some kind, and so, through lengthy moral discussions, they begin to forge an unlikely friendship, and bond.

The lives of these other neighbours are most explicitly portrayed in one of the parallel story threads by one young guy, prospective boyfriend of one of the neighbours, and coincidentally, a neighbour of, and yet stranger to Valentine, who's fortunes mirror the life and times of the old judge.

There is a magical / mystical quality to the story being told, but it's not heavy handed, or explicit... but it is overtly expressed in the final scene.

Quite a captivating movie, which rounds out the trilogy nicely... I still think Blue is the bona-fide masterpiece of the set, and this one is the next best, but all three make for surely one of the great trilogies of modern cinema.

>One final note: If you get these on physical media, don't get the Artificial Eye releases that I watched, the audio on these discs is mostly horrific!<

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Man in a suitcase.

Probably better titled: Three Colours: Black...

...As this has a more deadpan, straight-faced, blackly comic, acidic tone, which is not as sparse and economical (or poetic) as the predecessor: Three Colours: Blue, and is a quite quirky, and protracted tale of revenge, of sorts.

The delightfully named: Karol Karol, a Polish man, and burgeoning star of the international hairdressing world, is divorced in the opening scene by his beautiful French wife, Dominique, because he is unable to consummate their marriage, and so takes him for everything he's got, leaving him destitute on the streets of Paris. He can't even get home to Poland, having lost his passport.

Thankfully, while busking in the tube station one day, a fellow Pole takes pity on him and promises to help him get home, by smuggling him on a flight in his large travelling case... so long as he, in turn, helps him kill himself.

From there, Karol plays all the angles and builds himself up in almost Vito Corleone style to position of some power and wealth, all in order to exact a very insidious and subtle form of revenge on Dominique... But does he still love her, after all?

It's kind of a Gilliam-esque, Monty Python / Fish Called Wanda farce, but played straight, and less wacky, but certainly absurd... but for all that, it's a pretty good film.

Three Colours Blue is still light-years better than this, but the contrast in tone and style works well, as a kind of darkly comic- relief to that more earnest tale.

>The reason I got all three Three colours movies before watching any of them, was I'd heard they needed to be watched in order, because elements from each may appear in the others - in the case of the first two, Blue and White, I don't think you need to especially, nor even the last: Red, but certainly the ending of Red only makes sense if you've seen these two first<

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One for the parents.

Given the apparent premise, I was expecting this to be a little more unconventional than it was, but sadly not. In my mind it promised to hit the heights of say, Wall-E, or something more artistic and daring, and a lot of the time I felt it was leaning that way, but in the end, it opted for a more conventional emotionally themed story, that the whole family could enjoy in a more traditional sense.

It is, in essence, Dances With Robots, as the mis-deposited robot lands in the wilderness, and has to get to grips with the harshness of nature, which, to their credit, the film-makers do not shy away from showing the blackly comic realities of a dog-eat-dog world (within the bounds of a child-friendly-ish scope), and there's plenty in here, humour wise, of the kind that is specifically aimed at adults, and will go largely over a child's head, but not so much that it's unsuitable for children...

In fact, it's often very funny, and chucklesome I found, as the robot find's itself saddled with the responsibility of raising a chick / Gosling after it accidentally squishes it's parents, all while trying to keep a fox, and others from eating it.

The central theme of the story is clearly about the responsibilities, frustrations, and trials of parenthood - there not being a clear program or pattern of logic to work to, and it is quite astute in it's observations.

Very sentimental, perhaps a little too much so in the end, but fun, amusing, and a good watch nevertheless.

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Blue is the coolest colour.

I've been meaning to see this trilogy for some time, and finally came across Three Colours Red last year, but got frustrated waiting for the other two to turn up, so got them from Amazoon.

This one is a lot shorter than I thought it would be, at only an hour and a half, but sparse, minimal, even glacial look and feel allows the runtime to easily accommodate the slower pace without feeling rushed.

This is a perfect study in grief and trauma, and the general melancholy than comes of it, as Juliette Binoche's: Julie, having lost her famous composer husband and daughter in a car crash in the opening scene, is numb, and somewhat bewildered, as she then tires to break from anything to do with her old life, but in seeking to "get lost" and hide away, discovers other things about her late husband that accord a little too well with things about her herself, in a way that may lace her melancholy and grief with guilt, and cause her to reflect and re-evaluate the whole of her life.

This is pure cinematic story telling at it's best.

The combination of stunning cinematography, equally stunning score, and Binoche's brilliant minimal acting (her face alone does most of the heavy lifting!) around sparse, but essential dialogue do the telling, without having to tell you explicitly what's happening - some things are just presented to you as facts, without offering exposition, other things are suggested, and all in a way that allows the viewer to perfectly understand what's going on.

Meditative, delicate, sublime, melancholic, beautiful... and very, very... blue!

Pure art.

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Aisling Bea lights this up and Nick Frost is... Nick Frost but I just couldn't get into this film. :sad:

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The only CG animated movie that I've seen that actually lives up to the standard of those early Pixar movies.

...And the soundtrack is stunning!

Absolute joy.

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Portrait Of The Artist As A Young, Unhinged Serial Killer.

I actually quite enjoyed this!

>without meaning to go against the flow or general consensus of opinion<

This was one of those original "video nasties" that persons of a certain age, such as myself, would in younger school days, only hear of in whispers and by the infamous reputation it acquired due to having been designated as such.

(It was one of those that your mate at school was said to have seen the cover of a copy that his uncle's workmate's sister's boyfriend owned...Wow! - naturally enough, that's enough to make every kid in school want to hunt it down and see it.)

...But I never got to see it back in the day, and so had something of a wry smile to myself when I found the DVD in The charity shop the other day, as yet another legendary movie of my youth would now be mine to see at last!

I can see why most would not like this, as it is, oddly enough, and against all expectation, not quite the horror / slasher movie it's rep would suggest, or the very title would declare... well, certainly not in the same way that others who made this were, such as Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Cannibal Holocaust, or even the gory, yet hilarious Evil Dead are, let alone the formulaic slashers that followed.

...No, this is actually more of a portrayal of a poor, down on his luck artist gradually losing his grip due to impoverishment, a snobby, indifferent art dealer, a the punk band who live downstairs keeping him awake all night with their one tune, played over and over again, not to mention the poverty and destitution of New York of the time, with lots of homeless desperate individuals all over the place.

In fact, it has more of a kind of Warhol / sixties, hallucinatory art movie feel about it, or even a movie student's ultra-low budget artistic rendering of a "horror" movie...

(wait!... there's a "budget"!?!)

In fact, it takes a good half a hour or more before the first "drill kill" happens, which, in movie of only hour and a half, doesn't really make it an archetypal "slasher" flick... granted there's a flurry of kills a little later as he goes on a spree, but really, the kill count is actual minimal compared to what you might expect... And all done, in a not completely gory way really... I mean, there's "blood", but no need for practical effects, as his drill, he seems only to poke at people and the drilling is more suggested than anything, and other instances are done through clothing etc.

...Which is good thing, in way, as I'd always wondered, when pondering this movie, just how effective a hand-drill would be in this regard... after all, people would just throw the damn thing out of his hand surely, and not simply present themselves as static targets while he does his thing. No, the drilling killing is actually the weakest element in this, totally unbelievable, and actually quite comedically bad in fact... I think an egg-whisk would probably do as much damage!

So very much what I found with Hell's Angels On Wheels... a vastly different movie than you're given to believe, which may certainly disappoint those going in with expectations of a certain nature, but taken for what it really is, actually quite good.

So think of it more as being to horror / slasher movies what Dark Star is to sci-fi - not the greatest example you'll ever see, but not without it's charms.

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Apocalypse... Then?

Evidently based on the real diary of a soldier who served under Major Dundee at the time, which relates the story of this, effectively "passed over" Major, sent to the arse-end of nowhere to be a kind of prison warden, as nobody really has any faith in him as a soldier or a leader, but when a marauding Apache group take prisoners from a town they have destroyed, Dundee sees his chance to prove himself, by hunting down, capturing or killing the semi-legendary leader of the Apaches, rescuing the captives, and generally saving the day.

...And that's where the trouble starts.

As, while the pieces of narration taken from the diary to frame the story, as well as the essential plot point of renegade leader in forgotten part of the world gives a very strong reminder of Apocalypse Now, with Heston's Dundee being a kind of Anti-Kurtz...

(He's not crackers, but neither is he entirely brilliant as a leader - deeply flawed)

... this also has a prototype Dirty Dozen element to the story, as Dundee must round up a troupe to help him in his possibly foolish enterprise from among the waifs, strays, vagabonds and prisoners under his supervision, including a squad of captured Confederate soldiers, who naturally enough, don't like him very much (or the black soldier under Dundee's command, for that matter).

So there's enough tension and contention from within his own ranks with which to contend, let alone finding the Apache, rescuing the captives... oh, and dealing with the French army too!

Only the fact that Dundee is also a kind of Captain Ahab figure really drives him through the obstacles in his way against all better advice, as he must hunt down his own personal "White Whale".

Super stuff.

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This is quite a charming, evocative little movie about a somewhat lost Hollywood movie producer who is in Paris with his Fiancé and her gruff, snobbish parents, none of whom share his enchantment with the city, and leave him to go wandering the streets at night, where as the clock strikes midnight, sends him back in time to 1920s Paris, where he meets F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemmingway, Picasso, and others, and begins to fall for a lovely socialite form that time, who herself, dreams of a bygone era, not her own.

There are some pretty broad depictions of literary and artistic figures form history, but I think that's the point, in portraying them as more modern mythologising of them has bequeathed them to us as merely ideas, and icons, and the whole movie is about romanticising the past and dealing with the nostalgia for a time you never personally knew, in order to escape the realities of a less than satisfactory present.

Quite magical, charming, and warm, and is quite easy on the "Woody Allen-ness", which gives it a nice light wit.

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In the nut-house again.

(It gives me pause to reflect on how many movies I like deal with mental illness: The Fisher King, Benny And Joon, One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, As Good As It Gets....etc. Purely coincidental, I'm sure! (twitch twitch :)


When I watched it first time round, all those years ago, I remember feeling it was a bit of a vanity project... indulgence, and vehicle / excuse to shoehorn Kevin Spacey onto our screens, off the back of a plethora of memorable performances elsewhere, and I remember it feeling a very...slight movie - a little too economical, sparse, and cold feeling. I think the production design has a lot to do with, as it looks a little less than cinematic, and more like TV... like an episode of NCIS or something, with that kind of aesthetic.

Watching again now, a lot of that hasn't changed for me, but I do find I've warmed to the story a characters a little more, and the cool look and feel is appreciated in how it conveys a sense of the ethereal, and otherworldly, consistent with the theme of a man (Spacey) who apparently arrives from out of thin air, declares himself to be from another planet, and is immediately taken to a psychiatric ward of the hospital, to be investigated and assessed by Jeff Bridges' psychiatrist.

Prot(e) (Spacey) begins to rub off on, and have an effect on, not only the other patients, but the doctors, and Bridges himself, due to the enduring enigma the movie works off of:

Is he actually nuts, or is he really from another planet?!?

>Your Kevin Spacey joke here<

(...er, or perhaps... best not!)

It is, despite it's economy, and fragile surface beauty, actually quite a touching, tragic, yet warm and engaging movie nevertheless, and still worth watching.

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Neon-Noir.

This neon-drenched, quasi-serial killer, semi-skin-flick feels like a bleed over from the seventies, as in both look and feel, if you didn't know the date of release, you'd swear it was a seventies movie.

Although, more accurately, this feels like a 30s to 50's film-noir packed inside the clothes of the seventies, an presented in the eighties.

(The only thing that gave it away is a scene in the street with a telephone box, where a cinema in the background is showing: Blue Thunder, An Officer And a Gentleman, and Flashdance!)

It reeks of a kind of pulp noir novel that might have been bought back in the day from a cigarette stand: Lonesome ex-boxer, haunted by his last fight, in which he killed his opponent, now runs an agency for strip club dancers, who suddenly start getting serially attacked in the street by pre-Se7en style nut job, and the boxer's mob connections, as well as the hard-bitten, no-nonsense (and slightly shady) Detective who is always getting his face are all over him to try and bring the nutter to book.

It's great as just that... A piece of pulpy schlock, but there are a couple of gripes for me:

Firstly, it seems there is precisely zero detective work going on in the entire movie regarding catching this guy, which, although the movie's centre is about the effect on the people it's happening to, rather than who is doing it, the "serial killer" is essentially a tacked on plot device, and is only wrapped up conveniently at the end.

Then there is the odd choice of having the serial killer be a puritanical Martial arts obsessive, which in real world situations seems a little bit whacky, and goofy... but I put this down to the attempt to make the movie appeal to the popularity of martial arts movies of the time.

And finally, it's the fact that the only people who seem to be in the titular "fear" are the characters in the movie, as opposed to laying a palpable blanket of fear over an entire city,in the manner of, say: Summer of Sam, or Zodiac killers... so a bit of misnomer.

But otherwise pretty groovy, with a strong performance by Tom Berenger, and plenty of scenes of a nude Melanie Griffith

(See, I knew that'd get your attention! :) .... and so did the film-makers, I suspect.)

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Wow, this is a short movie!

1hr, 24mins.

And after the opening scene, which seems to just drop you straight into the action from the off, it threatens to slow down to a crawl, and I wondered how it was going to pack a whole movie into the time remaining... but in the end, it does pretty good job.

It's one of those that is generally not well regarded, and I think it's because of this absence of character establishment / exposition form the off, which is a little bemusing, and made me wonder for a few more minutes than I'd liked: What the hell is going on!

...But that's because it's also one of those that just drops little bits of key info and back-story as it goes, rather than swamp you with story from the outset.

Basic plot:

Cop kills cirme boss' son, so crime boss wants hired killer to kill cop's son... he can't so now hired killer needs to get the FO.O.D in order to escape crime boss coming after him, which he attempts to do with the help of passport forger, who then gets embroiled in the whole thing.

This has more than a whiff of Leon about it, especially in the score, and reminded me a lot of the later Kiss Of The Dragon (which I like a lot)... And while this has has some truly stunning photography / cinematography, which is beautifully lit, and shot, I can see where the criticism of it over the years as being more style than substance. But given how enjoyable it is, and how short, I think this can be forgiven.

A couple of other facts which may serve to both explain it, and perhaps recommend it:

Produced by (among others): John Woo.

Mira Sorvino does a pretty damn impressive job as not only turning out to be pretty bad ass, but fairly hard ass when she wants to be, and on the strength of this, makes me wonder why she didn't do more of this kind of thing in her career - she seems to have an untapped talent for it!

It has Michael Rooker.

...........It has Danny Trejo.

Legends both.

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Wasn't sure if I'd seen this one, or one of the others...

(That isn't Enter The Dragon... as I know that one by heart, having seen it over and over since I was a small weeble)

...Turns out, I'd not.

But it's pretty darn good, albeit a bit shonky in places, and what with the very strong anti-Japanese theme throughout, a blacked-up Chinese actor as an Indian (with turban), and the generally broad depictions of anyone who isn't heroic, yet victimised Chinese... But hey, everyone did this kind of thing at sometime or other didn't they?

>"It was a different time then!!!"<

(chuckle)

...Nevertheless, although it's a pretty stock revenge movie, whereby "hero" has to and wade through stacks of minions to kick bog boss' ass, it does a great job in telling that story, and does some subtlety and nuance to the plot, in that it seems to proceed from the principle that s%&t gets out of hand very quickly when you pursue this kind of revenge thing, and in the end, nobody really wins.

But let's park our brains for a moment here... It's a Bruce Lee kung-fu movie, and that's all you want it to be, and it is.

Opening title cards and music very suggestive of Sergio Leone Scetti westerns, and the finale is in the pantheon of ultimate iconic kung-fu scenes, and includes the beyond iconic shot of Bruce's slow-mo mutli-exposure, hypnotising mutli-trance-arms.

Only real gripe is that at least half the people in the fight scenes don't really seem to have much of a clue about kung-fu (about as much as I do!) I can only imagine what Bruce himself thought of some of them gently waving their arms about aimlessly, which is only highlighted by the other half, who clearly do know something! The problem here is that a lot of main bad guys fall into this fist category - being somewhat portly middle aged chaps which I'm fairly sure even I could take.

Bruce looks like another species of human entirely in the face of these guys... which doesn't help to sell the idea that he'd have any problem whatsoever with them.

There is also a great sort of James Bond theme going, where Bruce has to go to ground, and by means of disguises and such, infiltrate the bad guys, which added something to the movie.

Enter The Dragon, it ain't, but certainly heading in that direction impressively.

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