Cinetology

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This Is It film review: one for the fans

This Is It

This Is It was the name of Michael Jackson’s highly anticipated concert tour that was scrapped less than three weeks before opening night, when death interrupted the pasty-faced star’s plans for a comeback. Director Kenny Ortega’s documentary of the same name plays a lot like a concert movie, but given there was never any actual concert it therefore fits into the less salubrious genre of the concert rehearsal movie, which doesn’t carry quite the same razzmatazz. There is something sad and kind of tragic about the moments in which Jackson, who deliberately sings most of the songs half-heartedly, talks about saving his vocal strings for the real deal. Little did he know that singing on a barren stage in front of a near empty auditorium was, well, it.
Produced with the collaboration of the Jackson estate, This Is It is a straight-up compilation of footage that aspires to little other than presenting the audience a taste of what might have been. It offers virtually no insight into Jackson as a person and very little about what he would have been like to work with professionally. The film is unashamedly idolatry; if Ortega’s cameras ever captured Jackson chucking a hissy fit or something similarly unflattering it is safe to assume it would never have been allowed to make the final cut, and that’s a sad state of affairs.
Fans will be glad to know however that This Is it makes it clear MJ still had talent all the way to the end. His voice in particular held itself remarkably well over the years even if his looks and fashion sense were, to be kind, somewhat spurious (note: bright red trousers, a light blue t-shirt and glittery silver jacket just don’t mix). He looks gaunt and unhealthy, like a washed up superstar, but then again the Stones have looked like death warmed up for about the last two decades, so that’s show biz for ya folks (not to mention excessive drug consumption sustained over multiple decades).
One of the triumphs of Jackson’s music is that his songs don’t seem to have aged at all. This is particularly impressive given their reliance on synthesised beats and keyboard and sound effects. And while his voice is more or less the same as it was in the 80s and 90s, there is something un-invigorating about a musician whose live performances aspire to match the CD versions note for note, syllable for syllable. MJ came up with winning formulas and sought to replicate them time and time again, establishing live performance innovations in other areas such as 3D movie segments, extravagant stage effects and swish-bang dance routines. As they say, it used to be about the music.
For die hard MJ aficionados This Is It is clearly a must-see. However, general appreciators are likely to get restless into the second hour in the absence of commentary, insight, context and other elements that might have helped sustain interest. Whatever appeal the film has – and it certainly has some, if you dig MJ’s music – it owes to Jackson and the tour crew rather than any innovation or creativity on behalf of the filmmakers.

Orange lightThis Is It was the name of Michael Jackson’s highly anticipated concert tour that was scrapped less than three weeks before opening night, when death interrupted the pasty-faced star’s plans for a comeback. Director Kenny Ortega’s documentary of the same name plays a lot like a concert movie, but given there was never any actual concert it therefore fits into the less salubrious genre of the concert rehearsal movie, which doesn’t carry quite the same razzmatazz. There is something sad and kind of tragic about the moments in which Jackson, who deliberately sings most of the songs half-heartedly, talks about saving his vocal strings for the real deal. Little did he know that singing on a barren stage in front of a near empty auditorium was, well, it.

Produced with the collaboration of the Jackson estate, This Is It is a straight-up compilation of footage that aspires to little more than presenting cinema audiences a taste of what might have been. It offers virtually no insight into Jackson as a person and very little about what he would have been like to work with professionally. The film is unashamedly idolatry; if Ortega’s cameras ever captured Jackson chucking a hissy fit or something similarly unflattering it is safe to assume it would never have been allowed to make the final cut, and that’s an unfortunate state of affairs.

Fans will be glad to know however that This Is it makes it clear MJ still had talent all the way to the end. His voice in particular held itself remarkably well over the years even if his looks and fashion sense were, to be kind, somewhat spurious (note: bright red trousers, a light blue t-shirt and glittery silver jacket just don’t mix). He looks gaunt and unhealthy, like a washed up superstar, but then again the Stones have looked like death warmed up for about the last two decades, so that’s show biz for ya folks (not to mention excessive drug consumption sustained over multiple decades). Read More »

Trailer Watch: Law Abiding Citizen

Law Abiding Citizen poster

Earlier this year myself and some Twitter buddies played a game called #nicer filmtitles. As its title suggests, the game all about taking the name of popular films and making them, well, nicer. For example, The Empire Strikes Back becomes The Empire Writes A Strongly Worded Letter. The Day the Earth Stood Still becomes The Day the Earth Stood Relatively Still While Gently Swaying in the Breeze. The Exorcism of Emily Rose becomes The Daily Exercising of Emily Rose.
But there are some film titles that already sound so inoffensive, so pedestrian that making them nicer feels stupidly redundant. The first example that pops into my mind is (bizarrely) To Wong Foo Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar. Sure, you could add Thanks So Much For Everything, but that’s hardly the point…
Jamie Fox and Gerard Butler’s new movie Law Abiding Citizen has one of those listless, undramatic, uneventful slice-of-nothing titles. It’s way too bloomin’ nice. How does one make it nicer – a Very Law Abiding Citizen? Running with this title is a decision that boggles the mind: what were the producers thinking? There is something pathetically mundane about the way the following imaginary conversation rolls off the tongue:
“Hey mate, whatcha up to tonight?”
“Goin’ to see Law Abiding Citizen.”
“Oh yeah, isn’t that the movie about the, um, citizen? The law abiding one?”
Ahem. More bizarre still is the fact that Law Abiding Citizen is an action/thriller, not some character study about a docile old fart who spies on his neighbours, keeping track of whether they’re violating arcane council regulations. By the looks of things – watch the trailer below – there are meaty murder-by-glare grimaces, explosions and death scenes a-plenty.
The trailer begins with flashes of a home break-in: Clyde (Gerard Butler) is bound and gagged and, we learn shortly after, watches helplessly as his wife and daughter are brutally murdered. Jamie Fox plays Assistant DA Nick Rice, who is assigned the case and ordered to make a deal that will sentence one of the killers to the death penalty and the other to ten years in the slammer. Outraged, Clyde shrieks “no deal!” Andrew O’Keefe style but Nick goes ahead with it anyway – “some justice is better than no justice at all,” he says. Bad move. Clyde turns out to be a brilliant sociopath who waits ten years, takes the law into his own hands and then for some inexplicable reason evidently trains his sights on Nick and his family.
Nick is the only man that can stand in the way of Clyde’s nefarious crusade for justice but this time it’s personal a yada yada and so on and so forth etcetera etcetera.
There is one deliriously audacious dialogue exchange in which Butler, in jail and looking like he needs a nap and a hug, demands that Nick organise his release.
“Or what?” Nick enquiries.
“Or I kill…everyone!”
Everyone? Like the whole world everyone? That’s a fairly ambitious target, fer sure fer sure, but brilliant movie sociopaths do have a tendency to reach for the stars. Good on him, I say. Since Clyde’s the one with all the ambition, perhaps the movie could have been named after him. Law Breaking Citizen, perhaps?
Law Abiding Citizen will be released Australian January _.

Earlier this year myself and some buddies on Twitter played a game called #nicerfilmtitles. As its title suggests, the game all about taking the name of popular films and making them, well, nicer. For example, The Empire Strikes Back becomes The Empire Writes A Strongly Worded Letter. The Day the Earth Stood Still becomes The Day the Earth Stood Relatively Still While Gently Swaying in the Breeze. The Exorcism of Emily Rose becomes The Daily Exercising of Emily Rose.

But there are some film titles that already sound so inoffensive, so pedestrian that making them substantially nicer is no easy task because the producers appear to have preempted the process. The first example that pops into my mind is (bizarrely) To Wong Foo Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar. Sure, you could add Thanks So Much For Everything, but that’s hardly the point…

The title of Jamie Fox and Gerard Butler’s new movie Law Abiding Citizen is an undramatic and uneventful slice of nothing that is simply way too bloomin’ nice. How can one make it nicer – a Very Law Abiding Citizen? Running with this title is a decision that boggles the mind. What were the producers thinking? There is something pathetically mundane about the way the following imaginary conversation rolls off the tongue:

“Hey mate, whatcha up to tonight?”
“Goin’ to see Law Abiding Citizen.”
“Oh yeah, isn’t that the movie about the, um, citizen? The law abiding one?”

Ahem. More bizarre still is the fact that Law Abiding Citizen is an action/thriller, not some character study about a docile old fart who spies on his neighbours, keeping track of whether they’re violating arcane council regulations. By the looks of things – watch the trailer below – there are meaty murder-by-glare grimaces, explosions and death scenes a-plenty. These things are least deserve a more arresting title. Read More »

2009 AFI nominees

On Wednesday the nominees for the 2009 Samsung Mobile AFI Awards were announced. Capping off a bumper year for Australian cinema, it is an impressive list. Here they are. More commentary to follow. Visit here to view all the nominees.

2009 SAMSUNG MOBILE AFI AWARDS

NOMINEES – THE HIGHLIGHTS

AFI YOUNG ACTOR AWARD

* Brandon Walters, Australia
* Sebastian Gregory, Beautiful
* Tom Russell, Last Ride
* Toby Wallace, Lucky Country
* Marissa Gibson, Samson & Delilah
* Rowan McNamara, Samson & Delilah

AFI MEMBERS’ CHOICE AWARD
Australia, Baz Luhrmann, G. Mac Brown, Catherine Knapman
Balibo, John Maynard, Rebecca Williamson
Beautiful Kate, Leah Churchill-Brown, Bryan Brown
Mao’s Last Dancer, Jane Scott
Mary and Max, Melanie Coombs
Samson & Delilah, Kath Shelper

SAMSUNG MOBILE AFI AWARD FOR BEST FILM
* Balibo, John Maynard, Rebecca Williamson
Beautiful Kate, Leah Churchill-Brown, Bryan Brown
Blessed, Al Clark
Mao’s Last Dancer, Jane Scott
Mary and Max, Melanie Coombs
Samson & Delilah, Kath Shelper

AFI AWARD FOR BEST DIRECTION
Balibo, Robert Connolly
Beautiful Kate, Rachel Ward
Mao’s Last Dancer, Bruce Beresford
Samson & Delilah, Warwick Thornton

AFI AWARD FOR BEST LEAD ACTOR
* Anthony LaPaglia, Balibo
* Ben Mendelsohn, Beautiful Kate
* Hugo Weaving, Last Ride
* Rowan McNamara, Samson & Delilah

AFI AWARD FOR BEST LEAD ACTRESS
* Sophie Lowe, Beautiful Kate
* Frances O’Connor, Blessed
* Sacha Horler, My Year Without Sex
* Marissa Gibson, Samson & Delilah

AFI AWARD FOR BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
* Brandon Walters, Australia
* Damon Gameau, Balibo
* Oscar Isaac, Balibo
* Bryan Brown, Beautiful Kate

AFI AWARD FOR BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
* Bea Viegas, Balibo
* Maeve Dermody, Beautiful Kate
* Rachel Griffiths, Beautiful Kate
* Mitjili Gibson, Samson & Delilah

Capitalism: A Love Story film review: Moore American antiestablishmentarism

Capitalism: A Love Story

If you’re looking for even handed and maturely nuanced debate, if you’re looking for objectivity, multifaceted perspectives and intelligent arguments unencumbered by sentiments and emotions, then stay the hell away from the films of veteran rabble-rouser Michael Moore, whose penchant for fire and brimstone documentary journalism burns ever-undulled in Capitalism: A Love Story. But if you’re looking for provocative and compelling non-fiction oozing with take-the-power-back polemic and fiery antiestablishmentarism look no further than the flabby cap-donning, windbreaker-wearing working man’s hero from Flint, Michigan, who has built a career on taking the Daryl Kerrigan mantra to big corporations and telling them “ta get stuffed!”
In all of Moore’s work the message is there, simmering between the lines: capitalism is bad. Having directed films for two decades years and with eight feature documentaries under his (considerably girthed) belt, Moore appears to have had enough. Now he’s just coming out and saying it, no pussyfooting around, no reading between the lines, no diluting the message: capitalism = evil.
Moore has always been a sermon-on-the-mount expostulator, subtle as a pig at a tea party. He’s a long time exponent of the essential principle underlining gonzo journalism: that the writer is the central part of the story, the eye of the hurricane, and from his or her uncloaked perspective everything else follows. Critics of Moore’s work are happy to point out that he at times draws tenuous links between case studies, often errs closer to emotion than fact and craftily chooses what to showcase and what to omit. He takes it to conservative forces, fighting fire with fire, sometimes getting flakes of his integrity caught in the crosshairs.
It’s hard however not to agree with most of his hypothesises, especially for those who lean to the left – i.e. that the U.S. health care system is horrible and ravaged (Sicko), American gun laws are dangerous and inhumane (Bowling for Columbine) and the Bush administration were a pack of mongrels and thieves (Fahrenheit 9/11). Capitalism: A Love Story presents Moore’s broadest assertion yet: that capitalism is, if not downright evil, certainly bad and immoral and punishing to the small guys; in other words about as appealing as a fart in a sleeping bag. Again it’s kinda hard to disagree with the basic stance even if most viewers, not unreasonably, will probably rationalise the debate in the context of capitalism being a lesser evil to whatever other alternative is out there – the devil you know argument, every system has its flaws, etcetera etcetera. Moore paints an important distinction between democracy and capitalism, arguing that one can and should exist without the other, which, like a lot of the material here, begs to be further extrapolated.
Watching Moore’s sprawling scattershot approach, it feels like he set out to make a film about the GFC but decided somewhere along the line to train his sights on a much larger beast. Thus the film’s disjointed structure, which connects case studies – all of them interesting, a few of them fascinating – sometimes spuriously to the grander concept. Moore demonstrates his sizeable abilities as both a muckraker and an investigative journalist by uncovering some truly shocking anecdotes: big corporations such as Woolworths, for example, take out life insurance policies on their employees so they can cash in when one of them dies, the people referred to in paperwork as “dead peasants.” It’s also staggering to learn that commercial airline pilots in America get paid pittance (around $20k a year) and would earn more as managers of Taco Bell. There are plenty more eye-opening moments, including a snippet of President Ronald Regan getting ordered around by a corporate big wig and seldom-seen footage of President Roosevelt’s suggestion of a second bill of rights, in relation to housing and jobs etcetera. It never, of course, came to fruition. Bummer.
Moore is the closest cinema has come to producing a director of blockbuster documentaries; his films are loud, ballsy, instantly palatable and designed for the masses. But more than that, they’re event movies, pics looming large on the cultural horizon. Bowling for Columbine is still his best work; it ties the staple properties together so smoothly: a powerful emotional crux, alarming facts, compelling case studies, a clear-cut argument. Capitalism: A Love Story fits his oeuvre like a glove and Moore appreciators will not leave disappointed. The idea that Moore’s career is misguided in the sense that he preaches to the converted is plain untrue, as his audience is well and truly large enough to encapsulate plenty of sceptics and naysayers as well as a decent selection of babies and barn animals.

Green lightIf you’re looking for even handed and maturely nuanced debate, if you’re looking for objectivity, multifaceted perspectives and intelligent arguments unencumbered by sentiment and emotion, then steer clear of the films of veteran rabble-rouser Michael Moore, whose penchant for fire and brimstone documentary journalism burns ever-undulled in Capitalism: A Love Story. But if you’re looking for provocative and compelling non-fiction oozing with take-the-power-back polemic and fiery antiestablishmentarism look no further than the flabby cap-donning working man’s hero from Flint, Michigan, who has built a career on taking the Darryl Kerrigan mantra to big corporations and telling them (with slightly more robust vernacular) ta get stuffed.

In all of Moore’s work the message is there, simmering between the lines: capitalism is bad, mmkay? Having directed films for two decades and now with eight feature docos under his (wider than average) belt, Moore appears to have had enough. Now he’s just coming out and saying it, no pussyfooting around, no reading between the lines, no diluting the message and woe betide you if you don’t like it: capitalism = evil.

Moore has always been a self-righteous sermon on the mount expostulator, subtle as a pig at a tea party. His critics tsk-tsk about his tendency to draw tenuous links between case studies, to err closer to emotion than fact and to cagily select what to spotlight and what to omit. He takes it to conservative forces, fighting fire with fire, sometimes getting flakes of his own integrity caught in the crosshairs.

It’s hard however, especially for those who lean to the left, not to agree with the long and short of his hypothesises – i.e. that the U.S. health care system is horrible and ravaged (Sicko), American gun laws are dangerous and inhumane (Bowling for Columbine) and the Bush administration were a pack of mongrels and thieves (Fahrenheit 9/11). Capitalism: A Love Story presents Moore’s broadest assertion yet: that capitalism is if not downright evil then certainly corrosive, immoral, punishing to the small guys and about as appealing as a fart in a sleeping bag. Read More »

Mad Max 4 confirmed

Last week The Daily Telegraph broke the news that George Miller’s classic Mad Max franchise will spawn a belated sequel, Mad Max: Fury Road. In a major coup for the NSW film industry – following the sobering recent announcement that Green Hornet will not (as originally planned) be shot in Sydney – Premier Nathan Rees has secured production of the fourth Mad Max outing. Miller and Rees, presumably both as happy as pigs in plop, indulged in a round of back patting:
Rees: “The Mad Max films are iconic. In the hands of director George Miller, we will see one of the largest and most ambitious live action films ever made in Australia.”
Miller: “The production agreements have been a long time in the making and Premier Rees and his team have worked like Trojans to ensure this substantial investment comes into this country.”
Sam Worthington and Charlize Theron have been tipped to snag lead parts but the big question is whether Mel Gibson will return to the role that shot him to stardom three decades ago. Miller is tight-lipped and probably unsure himself. He said to journalists last week: “I’m still in the middle of casting, despite all the stuff we see on the net and so on. I don’t even know who the final cast will be.”
Creating new instalments to old film franchises is always risky business. The Star Wars prequels were widely mocked, as was Harrison Ford’s “not as easy as it used to be” Indy shtick in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Terminator 3 was a stinker and Terminator: Salvation not much better. However, recent years have heralded some success stories:  ol’ Sly Stallone kept the reputation of not one but two action franchises intact with the respectable Rocky Balboa and John Rambo, while Bruce Willis managed to reaffirm the status of his noggin as the golden egg of action cinema in the enjoyable Die Hard 4.0.
The most recent Mad Max movie – Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome – was made 20 (??) years ago, in 1989 (?) Here’s hoping George Miller’s still got it.

George MillerLast week The Daily Telegraph broke the news that George Miller’s classic Mad Max franchise will spawn a belated sequel, Mad Max: Fury Road. In a major coup for the NSW film industry – following the sobering recent announcement that Green Hornet will not (as originally planned) be shot in Sydney – Premier Nathan Rees has secured production of the fourth Mad Max outing. Miller and Rees, presumably both as happy as pigs in plop, indulged in a round of back patting:

Rees: “The Mad Max films are iconic. In the hands of director George Miller, we will see one of the largest and most ambitious live action films ever made in Australia.”

Miller: “The production agreements have been a long time in the making and Premier Rees and his team have worked like Trojans to ensure this substantial investment comes into this country.”

Sam Worthington and Charlize Theron have been tipped to snag lead parts but the big question is whether Mel Gibson will return to the role that shot him to stardom three decades ago. Miller is tight-lipped and probably unsure himself. He said to journalists last week: “I’m still in the middle of casting, despite all the stuff we see on the net and so on. I don’t even know who the final cast will be.”

Creating new instalments to old film franchises is always risky business. The Star Wars prequels were widely mocked, as was Harrison Ford’s “not as easy as it used to be” Indy shtick in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Terminator 3 was a stinker and Terminator: Salvation not much better. However, recent years have heralded some success stories:  ol’ Sly Stallone kept the reputation of not one but two action franchises intact with the respectable Rocky Balboa and John Rambo, while Bruce Willis managed to reaffirm the status of his noggin as the golden egg of action cinema in the enjoyable Die Hard 4.0.

The most recent Mad Max movie – Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome – was made in 1985. Here’s hoping George Miller’s still got it. Mad Max: Fury Road will begin production next year.

Interview with Phil Grabsky, director of In Search of Beethoven

Phil Grabsky

Phil Grabsky’s widely acclaimed doco In Search of Mozart (2006) was broadcast in over 25 countries, screened theatrically at cinemas around the world, and, in Australia and New Zealand, made it into the top 50 list of all-time highest grossing documentaries (excluding IMAX). The veteran UK filmmaker’s latest feature, In Search of Beethoven, may well be one of the most extensive and exhaustive biographical films ever made about a classical musician. Clocking in at 139 minutes, the film (now playing at selected cinemas) details Beethoven’s life from birth to death, discussing his musical output in immense detail and analyzing the romantic myth that he was a heroic and tormented figure. Grabsky collaborated with some of the world’s most prestigious orchestras to film a whopping 55 separate performances and over 100 interviews. He also sat down for a chat with Cinetology towards the end of a comprehensive international promotional tour.

The subjects that you’ve dealt with, certainly in the last couple of films, inherently carry a high art cache. So when you go to a funding body – either a television funding organisation or a film funding organisation – how much harder is it in your opinion to get a documentary funded about Mozart or Beethoven than it is, say, to get funding for a reality TV program, or something that sells more easily to a wide audience?
When my wife and I decide to pay off our mortgage I will do a series called Pets Falling Over. Or Pets From Hell. Or Pets and Police Chases. I know how to pay off the mortgage and that’s what I’ll have to do.
Is that a promise? Can you guarantee that?
No, I can’t. I’ll tell you a true story though. About 10 years ago a TV station in the UK wanted to work with me to get into factual program, documentaries. They said “we’d like you to develop ideas for us.” So I wrote up three ideas which were quite sensible, useful, valuable ideas. Maybe it was even more than ten years ago because I remember faxing through the proposals. I got on very well with the commissioning editor and as she was going through I said as a joke “If you don’t like any of these proper ideas I will do Pets From Hell.” This is a true story. The phone rang about five minutes later and she said “thanks for those ideas, can you do me a page on Pets From Hell?” I said “it was a joke!” and she said “oh…”
A couple of months later I told the same story to another commissioning editor to another channel and I was saying “oh god, what’s happening to broadcasting? What’s happening to television?” I went through the whole thing about Pets From Hell and he said “that’s a great idea.” I didn’t do the series but there then was a series called Pets From Hell. To answer your question, I’d like to move away from the idea of high art. At yesterday’s screening we had more under 30s, there were youngsters, there were elderly people, there were all sorts. These are dramatic, humorous, visionary, arresting, clear and accessible films…I guess the common link between my films is that I’m interested in creativity, and there is a disjunct between what I am interested in and what television is interested in. They pay lip service to culture and art but if you look at their schedules – and you don’t even need to look that carefully – there are tonnes of location location shows, cooking shoes, reality shows, shows about teenagers put together in different environments so that they’ll basically kiss each other and all the rest of it. That stuff is what television feels it has to do, and it’s partly because the advertisers force them towards that 16 to 24 audience. But I had 16 to 24 year olds in my audience yesterday. You can create an audience. If parents won’t take their kids to see an opera then these people will miss out on one of the great artistic forms. I don’t have a wealthy background, you know…for me opera is just something else. It’s not elite. I’m the same with classical music.
10 min – bit about poetry, delivery method has changed
You’ve now made two very detailed documentaries about classical musicians: In Search of Mozart and In Search of Beethoven. I’m guessing the next one is going to be In Search of Britney Spears?
(laughing) Again, if I need to pay the mortgage. It would be very interesting to get a commission like that. I was just in Hollywood and by the by talked to a manager and an agent. They both saw Beethoven and I liked it and it would be funny if they came to me and said “you know what, we represent X, could you do an In Search Of and approach it in exactly the same way? I mean frankly, even if you did an In Search of Michael Jackson – I don’t want to offend anybody but he still wouldn’t be a patch on Beethoven. So where that leaves Britney Spears..I mean she’s great for what she does but that’s the thing, that’s the point in the way of Beethoven. Just step back for a second and then re-engaged with exactly what he did, it is extraordinary. The music is unbelievable. Michael Jackson, he could dance, he could sing, but be realist about it – he is not Beethoven. He is not Mozart. In fact he is not a patch on many of these great composers, and that is not me being elitist. That is me having a value judgement about extraordinary art.
I have to say, watching In Search of Beethoven, I was very impressed and surprised by how extensive, exhausted and compressive the documentary is and how quickly it moves. You shot 55 performances for the film, you interviewed 100 people. Was this a nightmare to collaborate in the editing room? I imagine the job of editing it would have been monolithic.
It wasn’t a nightmare but it was very very hard. It was creatively extremely challenging but I enjoyed that. We had 150, 200 hours of material. It’s not so much the bulk of the material, it’s more, well, you filmed an entire symphony – which bit do you use? And what are you trying to say at that point and how much weight do you give it? Why have you chosen that particular sonata out of the many that he wrote? Who do you want talking about it? What are they going to say about it? How are you going to visualise it? Are you going to show them playing it or are you going to cut away to location shots or natural images? Again, a parallel with these great artists is that you just work and work and work. It is false to believe that with Mozart and Beethoven it just came out of them. They did work and rework, Beethoven more than Mozart, but Beethoven’s music in some senses is more cerebral. The great thing is I don’t put a deadline on it. My wife tries to put a deadline on but I just keep working at it and working at it and I have to see the thing developing. Sometimes it’s a bit like building a house and suddenly realising that you’ve got the structure wrong, and it’s hard to go back and rebuild the steel frame. Half the job is the editor…he gets what I want to do and he makes it better. I feel a real responsibility to do it well.
Did you set out to make the mother of all Beethoven movies? Because that’s how it feels.
I set out to make the very best Beethoven film that I could. It’s not that I’m competitive with other things that have gone before. I have tried to get hold of other documentaries and feature films and, you know, I will never in a million years make a film as good as Amadeus. Amadeus is brilliant. It’s a work of art. It’s full of mistakes and myths and legend. There isn’t anything like that in Beethoven…There’s a lot of very average work, generally speaking, in television and I think the Beethoven films I saw kind of fell into that category. Mine’s only one approach, you could look at Beethoven in many different ways. I’m willing to be criticised for the approach I take, which is straight forward: begin at the beginning, end at the end. So it wasn’t that I was trying to outdo anybody else, it was just that I wanted to do a really good job. Getting into cinemas is hard work and it doesn’t drive much revenue in our direction. But enthusiasm with which the audience are receiving the film really is fantastic…The audience are more enthusiastic for Beethoven than they were for Mozart, which is interesting and great. It does mean that when I do question and answer sessions I can’t get out of the cinema until 1am.
In terms of theatrical releases for these films, obviously they are never going to open in your massive multiplexes, they are never going to have hundreds of screens. So when you’re raising finances for these films, where does the financial side of the pitch come from? Do you make most of the money back when you air documentaries like In Search of Beethoven on TV or when they are released on DVD?
First of all there’s been some interesting developments with this film, in that in the United States and in Canada we have had interest from chains and we are having to think about it. I love the independent art houses cinemas. They are the place for these types of films. Digital projection and so forth means the quality is going up enormously in two years. These small cinemas are jumping into many gaps – not only are they taking on from where television should but they also offer a fantastic resource for the community. They are places for people to meet.
For me a good independent cinema should have a good cafe, should have good cake. Maybe they should have little concerts from time to time or photographic exhibitions. So there is always some reason to drop in, even without seeing a film. So I really want to support those by having my film play there. On the other hand, if I get a release – which has been talking about in the States and in Canada – in 100 cinemas, and each cinema plays it for a week and it does reasonably well – then that can be quite significant. My experience with distributors however – Australia excluded, because the distributor here is very good – is you often never see a penny. This film still hasn’t really driven much revenue in our direction. So to answer your question, I am still dependent on television presales but it’s not that lucrative, they don’t pay a great deal anymore. Some foundation assistance – I’ve been doing in 20 years, I have some contacts with foundations who support what I do – and DVD. The DVD is becoming increasingly important and our DVDs have extras, we spend a lot of people on them. Six extra languages, deleted scenes, full movements, interviews. Sometimes the DVD is longer than the theatrical version.
I’m assuming that one of the best parts of making the In Search of documentaries is being exposed to so quality music? For such a big appreciator of classic music, gaining access to so many talented musicians must be a real pleasure.
I feel extremely rich because I am in the middle of the world’s greatest orchestras. Literally I’m in front of the conductor and between the conductor and the cellos and the violins. I’m in the middle revolving around taking shots. I’m next to the world’s best pianists. I am two feet from their hands. Actually, that sounds weird.
(laughing)
I mean I am right next to them and I think “what a privilege” and I genuinely want to share that privilege, because you don’t have the chance to spend three years tracking these people down. In the same way you meet lots of filmmakers and want to share your conversations with your audience, I meet musicians and I want to share that. That’s why the film uses close ups and is very kind energetic and the interviewees are talking to the camera – trying to get the audience completely involved in it, as though they have done what I am doing.
I don’t envy my more affluent colleagues who are doing the reality shows. I’ve got someone who does the celebrity island stuff and I’m not interested.
Not interested in collecting pay checks from Pets From Hell? Not even for the mortgage?
Imagine if that was released. “Grabsky formatted Pets from Hell!” People would just think it was funny. I would think it was funny. I’d actually make up t-shirts. People often say to me “well, what have you done that I know?” I say “In Search of Beethoven” and they say “uh-huh.” I saw “The Boy who plays on the Buddhas of Bamiyan” and they say “er, er, er…” Imagine if I said “Pets From Hell.” They’d say “oh yeah! I watch that every Saturday night with my family! That’s fantastic!” That would be dispiriting.

You’ve recently travelled through the U.S., Canada and New Zealand promoting In Search of Beethoven. How long have you been on the publicity circuit for?

I feel like Noah actually – 40 days. Pure chance, but it’s a 40 day trip, which is the longest I’ve been away from my family ever. Even when I go to Afghanistan to film, which I do more or less once a year, that’s usually only two and a half weeks. It’s not enough to make a film, which is two years work. You’ve got to distribute it. You’ve got to put the hours in and actually get out there. I quite rightly have been very protective of my family time on previous films and that probably does have an impact on how successful the film is. With (In Search of) Mozart I came and did Australia and New Zealand. With Beethoven I felt I wanted to get out there and really push it and do a lot of interviews, a lot of press – talking to distributors, talking to publicists, newspapers, blog sites, people who collate all the information and the charts. Maybe it’s a lesson from studying Beethoven, who is not dissimilar to Mozart in that they were commercial animals. They are absolutely not liking the music for pleasure, or because they have to. It’s not flowing out of them and then someone else takes it away and distributes it, sells it, performs it. Mozart virtually wrote nothing that wasn’t for a commission and Beethoven was a little bit different but not enormously so. You have to understand economics and commerce to understand why they wrote what they wrote, when they wrote what they wrote.

Reaching the point at which you’re able to pick and choose between jobs is a great thing, isn’t it? Especially in your industry.

Yeah, but there comes a point where your pride just takes over. And it may not be the most sensible thing to do financially and commercially but you just say no, I’m not doing it. You’re not insulting me. I think if you understand that the things Beethoven and Mozart most wanted was to be respected, to be treated with respect, then you’re starting to uncover a key into their biography. And again I think that’s true of creative people today. If I go into a broadcaster for example and they offer me 40 percent of what I did the film for last time – and bearing in mind I’m a writer, producer, director, cinematographer, so I’m already coming in cheap if you like, doing four roles – then I feel they are being disrespectful and at that point I walk out. If they are respectful and say ”look we’ve lost our major funder, would you consider doing it for a little bit less?” and they are treating me with respect then I’ll talk to them. If I feel they’re just trying to rip me off, I’m off. And that’s exactly how it was 250 years ago. Read More »

Into the Shadows film review: talkin’ Aussie film blues

Into the ShadowsGreen lightMany of the issues surrounding the ever-beleaguered state of the Australian film industry are encapsulated in Into the Shadows, a dense, compelling and cheaply produced documentary from debut writer/ director Anthony Scarano. Essentially a compilation of talking heads, Scarano collaborates an impressive cross-section of viewpoints from exhibitors, distributors, actors, writers, directors and other industry folk keen to chip in their two bob. The film canvasses a broad array of issues but narrows the debate by focusing particularly on the decline of independent cinemas in Australia, discussing the closure of venues such as the Lumiere in Melbourne, the Valhalla in Sydney and Electric Shadows in Canberra, in the context of the rise of multiplex giants such as Village and Hoyts.

Film aficionados will be alternating between nodding their heads in approval and shaking them in dismay at some of the anecdotes and analyses on offer. Memorable moments include one wag’s description of the session time screens at multiplex cinemas – “the airline indicator board,” as he sardonically puts it – and the weary words of Kenny director Clayton Jacobson, who explains that even though his film was cheaply made and was a huge player at the box office (generating more than $5 million) the experience nonetheless left him $250,000 in debt. That’s as good a summary as any of the perilous playing field local filmmakers inhabit.

Into the Shadows offers no clear-cut solutions, of course, but Scarano provides a good whack of optimism, seeing hope for the future partly by reflecting on stalwarts of the past who fought tooth and nail for venues to screen their films. Crucially, Scarano keeps a brisk pace and if in doubt simply moves on to the next interviewee. Into the Shadows is probably only for film appreciators, but for those interested in the business side of cinema-going in Australia it deserves to be considered required viewing.

Into the Shadows’ Australian theatrical release date: October 22, 2009.

The Box film review: trading it all for what’s in the…

The Box posterOrange lightWatch the trailer for The Box and you’ll swear it’s gonna play like a by-the-numbers thriller dressed up with a careful-what-you-wish-for premise reminiscent of W.W. Jacobs’ classic short story The Monkey’s Paw. But brace yourself for something entirely different: an experience simultaneously compelling, befuddling, audacious and frustratingly disjointed.

The director is Richard Kelly, whose brilliantly conceived debut Donnie Darko slowly set the cult film scene on fire following its release in 2001. The Box revolves around the plight of parents Norma (Cameron Diaz) and Arthur (James Marsden) who live a peaceful-but-that’s-about-to-change lower-middle class suburban existence with their young son. After a bout of bad news – Norma needs an operation on her foot, Arthur gets passed up for promotion and their son’s school fees are set to increase dramatically – the family land ass first in financially troubling waters.

A mysterious package arrives at their front door and yes, it’s a box. Inside this box is a device that looks, one must assume unintentionally, very much like the popular toy ‘the bullshit buzzer.’ Essentially it’s a red button waiting, beckoning, just longing, to be pressed. A mysterious stranger arrives to explain what it is; his name is Arlington Steward (Frank Langella) and he’s dapperly dressed but creepy looking, primarily because he has – but try not to hold it against him, cuz deep down he’s probably a great guy – only half a face (it was burnt off in a fire). Arlington explains that if the bullshit buz – um, button is pressed, two things will happen: “first, someone somewhere in the world who you don’t know will die. Second, you will receive a payment of one million dollars.” And so the madness begins. Read More »

A slither more info about Lars von Trier’s Melancholia

Lars von TrierLast week I blogged aboout the next project from legendary cult director Lars von Trier – a US$7 million “psychological drama-cum-disaster movie” titled Melancholia. I noted that nothing is known about the story other than it “takes its name from ‘Planet Melancholia,’ an enormous planet that supposedly lingers precariously close to earth” and “it won’t be an alien invasion flick.”

Last night I spoke with von Trier about his most recent film AntiChrist (released November 26 in Australia) as well as his notorious reputation in the film industry and his ongoing battle with depression. I can’t publish the interview, because it’s for a story for an upcoming edition of Spook Magazine (which, if you haven’t read yet, you damn well should) but I can tell you that I pressed von Trier for a little more information about Melancholia, and here’s what he said:

“I don’t know very much more about it. It’s a film about two sisters, I can tell you, and a planet called Melancholia. It’s not gonna be a SCI-FI in the sense of a lot of nuclear weapons, you know, being detonated and people in space crashes and such. That’s not how it’s going to be. It’s going to be a small storyline like AntiChrist with a few people in it.”

I asked the hard-hitting director of downers such as Dancer in the Dark and Breaking the Waves about his (taking the piss) comment about the film – “no more happy endings” – and he replied with:

“Yeah…I’ve been too kind on the audience until now.”

Astro Boy film review: new-fangled retro fun

Astro Boy posterGreen lightAll too well conditioned by cinema’s dispiriting habit of transforming old school animated TV shows into retch-a-rific buckets of movie lard enjoyed only by the thoroughly forgiving, the morbidly curious and the criminally tasteless, I must admit to not having very high hopes – along with everybody else in the sane world – for Astro Boy’s new-fangled big screen reboot. The cinematic forays of his retro toon colleagues have, after all, set almost unbelievably low standards (think Garfield, think Inspector Gadget, think Scooby Doo), though this time around the vision comes not from Hollywood but from Hong Kong-based animation studio Imagi which is, as this movie amply demonstrates, a very good thing.

Studded with a particularly impressive voice cast (Nicolas Cage, Donald Sutherland, Samuel L Jackson, Freddie Highmore, Charlize Theron, Bill Nighy, Nathan Lane…) and a gleaming CGI surface that looks like the cinema screen has been hit by an electronic rainbow, the English version of Astro Boy nevertheless arrives in Australian cinemas conspicuously bereft of fanfare, hype or anything vaguely resembling anticipation (the Tupperware party at my place on the weekend generated more of a stir). Where is the excessive marketing budget, the media saturation, the clandestine advertising stooges paid to talk about Astro Boy’s return on street corners? Have I by sheer happenstance missed the TV spots, the bus shelter ads, the happy meal combos, the awful ubiquitousness of a well-funded PR blitz? Or could it be that Hoyts are convinced they have a dud on their hands and just don’t have their hearts into winning public favour again for the little boy with rockets for legs and a shiny blue energy chip instead of a heart?

Pity, because Astro Boy is a shocking movie, in the sense that the one massive shock is it’s actually quite good: fast, funny, tongue in cheek, and unafraid to communicative deep themes to young audiences – grief, bereavement, loss, finding one’s place, what it means to be humane etcetera – without over simplifying or over sentimentalising the material. It also dedicates a surprising amount of time developing Astro Boy’s interpersonal relationships. Read More »

The Final Destination film review: gnarly third dimensional thrills

The Final Destination Green lightThe term ‘3D horror movie’ may not engender great faith among art lovers or film aficionados but for a select breed of laughers and screamers it sure sounds like a helluva way to spend a night out – an invitation to don those new and improved 3D shades and hoot and squeal through a couple of knee-slappin’ hours at the cinema, where good looking (typically American) young bods get slain, torn and mulched, miscellaneous bits of their anatomy hurled out of the screen and into a space perilously close – or so it seems – to your eyeballs.

If the genre can be justified in any way – if there is a point to it, a purpose, a reason for its existence, a raison d’être – 3D horror movies can be justified as carnival-esque entertainment cooked up for people with dark senses of humour, strong stomachs and a sick lust for watching the futility of life depicted via the merciless visual deconstruction (read: slaughtering) of hapless fictional others. In other words, people like me.

Of course, typical American mainstream horror/slasher movies (3D or nay) tend to be aggravatingly by-the-numbers. The actors often linger pathetically on the screen like carcasses waiting to be slain, the scares come on crassly via sudden nerve-pounding cataclysms on the sound track and pace, timing and tempo are words clearly outside the average director’s vocabulary.

The latter criticism is perhaps the most pertinent to the genre, at least in terms of pure entertainment value, and thankfully doesn’t apply to writer/director David R. Ellis’s The Final Destination. This diabolically fun no-brainer is fast, lean and mean trashy entertainment, the kind of guilty pleasure for which the term was coined. It’s currently screening in both 2D and 3D formats, but here’s the inside word: see the latter or don’t bother.

The essential difference between The Final Destination series and other similarly grisly genre pics is simple: the storyline has no tangible villain. There is no salivating yeti, no chainsaw wielding hic, no Krueger-like menace chasing the victims and chopping them into pieces. It is vaguely reminiscent of director Colin Eggleston’s 1978 Aussie thriller The Long Weekend, in which natures turns against the characters, but in this franchise man made inventions wreak the carnage. Read More »

Mixed reactions to Where the Wild Things Are

Where the Wild Things AreReviews are pouring in for director Spike Jonze’s much-anticipated adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s children’s book Where the Wild Things Are, which opens today in the U.S. The film is sitting on 71% at Rotten Tomatoes, a reasonably high score but it’s pretty clear even at this early stage that it’s not going to be a smash hit with critics. Below are snippets from some reviews.

On the positive:

“For all the money spent, the film’s success is best measured by its simplicity and the purity of its innovation. Jonze has filmed a fantasy as if it were absolutely real, allowing us to see the world as Max sees it, full of beauty and terror.”
Peter Travers, Rolling Stone (full review)

The result is an involving experience for all but the most fidgety children and an opportunity for parents to enjoy (rather than endure) a motion picture with their offspring.”
James Berardinelli, ReelViews (full review)

“With Sendak’s blessing, and with the aid of writer Dave Eggers, who teamed on the screenplay, Jonze has transformed the iconic picture book into a satisfyingly moody, melancholy, madcap live-action romp.”
Steven Rea, Philadelphia Inquirer (full review)

“The beasts are recognizable from Sendak’s pages, but Jonze gives them names and distinct personalities that connect to aspects of Max’s psyche and to the people he loves. (Freud would adore this movie.) ”
Mary F. Pols, TIME Magazine (full review)

“I can’t speak for the kids, but I would rate Spike Jonze & Dave Eggers’s adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s 40-page children’s picture book up there with Up and Wall•E as topping the recent renaissance in children’s movies.”
Peter Keough, Boston Phoenix (full review)

On the negative:

“Director Spike Jonze’s sharp instincts and vibrant visual style can’t quite compensate for the lack of narrative eventfulness that increasingly bogs down this bright-minded picture.”
Todd McCarthy, Variety (full review)

“Jonze has produced a gorgeous $80 million Muppet Movie in the shape of an art film that will bore kids as much as it will depress adults.”
Edward Douglas, ComingSoon.net (full review)

“Something doesn’t quite jell, and no matter how gorgeous each set piece is, it doesn’t always entirely add up to a complete and satisfying narrative. I couldn’t help but think, from time to time, how on earth were these guys allowed to make this movie?”
Sara Vilkomerson, New York Observer (full review)

“I have a vision of eight-year-olds leaving the movie in bewilderment. Why are the creatures so unhappy?”
David Denby, New Yorker (full review)

Where the Wild Things Are will hit Australian screens December 10. Read my post discussing the trailer here.

Trailer Watch: A Nightmate on Elm Street

A Nightmare on Elm Street 2010Jackie Earle Haley (aka Rorschach from Watchmen) will fill some very big shoes and a very iconic red and green jumper in music vid-cum-feature director Samuel Bayer’s upcoming remake of Wes Craven’s one-two-you-know-who’s-coming-for-you horror classic A Nightmare on Elm Street. Haley will be the first actor to play gnarly dream invader Freddy Krueger other than vet Robert Englund, who has donned the Krueger garb, scissor hands and grisly makeup in eight Nightmare on Elm Street flicks (from 1984 to 2003) as well as a TV spinoff. I wonder what he thinks of the remake and whether he’s happy to finally hang up his shingle. One assumes he had no choice.

The trailer (watch it below) begins with Haley/Krueger sprinting down darkened industrial-looking streets as carloads of people chase him into a decrepit looking building. “What-do-you-think-I-did-I-didn’t-do-anything!” he hollers as one of his assailers throws a lit petrol can into the building; fires surround him as he takes off his jacket, revealing that iconic stripy jumper. When the trailer cuts away from the fires – this is obviously the scene, for those not in the know, in which Krueger transforms from a man to a ghoul – an even scarier image flashes onto the screen: blood red text reading ‘from producer Michael Bay.’ In other words, there’s gonna be at least a couple of almighty explosions.

A Nightmare on Elm Street will arrive in cinemas sometime next year.

Von Trier’s next project confirmed

Lars von TrierFollowing on from his grisly festival favourite AntiChrist (due to open theatrically in Australia November 26), rabblerousing Danish director Lars von Trier’s next project – announced by Variety last week – will be a disaster movie titled Melancholia. Or, more specifically, a “psychological drama-cum-disaster movie,” which sounds much more in line with von Trier’s oeuvre. Currently nothing is known plot-wise bar two essential details: a) the title takes its name from ‘Planet Melancholia,’ an enormous planet that supposedly lingers precariously close to earth, and b) it won’t be an alien invasion flick.

In a statement about the film von Trier gave a bizarre and succinct description of what to expect – “no more happy endings!” – which, coming from the director of extremes downers such as Breaking the Waves, Dancer in the Dark, Dogville and Manderlay, surely meant he was taking the piss. Melancholia’s budget has been allocated around US$7 million, fairly generous for certain kinds of psychological dramas but pittance for a disaster flick. Who knows what that crazy Dane will deliver. The cynic in me suggests it will be like much of his work: glum, mean spirited and pointlessly provocative.

Julie and Julia film review: under-cooked, lacking flavour, lacklustre ingredients…

Julie and Julia Red lightAny film explicitly about or involving food or cooking inevitably challenges critics to sharpen their analytical knives in the hope of carving up a culinary themed zinger or two: one might say, for example, that No Reservations was “a light snack not a three course meal”; What’s Cooking “a flavourless fable as hard to swallow as a piece of tough turkey”; Chocolat “a candy that’s not entirely fresh but still digestible” and Takeaway “a padded-out patty of greasy comedy crap bludgeoned so hard with the spatula of bad taste that one can’t wait for it to come out the other end so it can be flushed down the annals of cinematic sewerage” (that one’s all mine).

A pretty lame way of “reviewing” films, really, since it’s more about the critic’s wit or lack thereof than any insightful rambles or vaguely analytical discussion of virtues and vices but still, a food themed movie presents the kind of opportunity your average film writer can hardly pass up. It’s a lot easier than, say, lampooning in such a way a movie about computers – i.e. the producers forgot to read their error reports; the cinematography is as visually appealing as an all night session on MS Dos; blah blah blah.

With this in mind, and in the context of a discussion of writer/director Nora Ephron’s Julie and Julia – which centres around two unprepossessing chefs who write about cooking, one for a book and the other for a blog – let’s get the crappy food analogies out of the way first. There was potential here for a tasty dish but the script lacks flavour and the direction lacks bite; the dramatic elements simmer lazily in the pot while the comedy flaps about like a half-dead fish; the film is more airy soufflé than hearty meal; and so on and so forth. Bored yet? Me too. Let’s move on. Read More »