Man of many talents they say. What’s left? Video! I’ve never done anything with video. Good Twitter friends Mike Bell and Lydia are two people who have inspired the above video. Recently I reviewed Shame but wanted to do something a bit different with yesterday’s The Artist. I’ve always been keen on trying YouTube and filming, so with a spark of inspiration sitting on the Tube back from the cinema, I hatched the above plan.

Expect more soon. Very soon.

There are very few films which prompt me to put pen to paper so quickly. Shame, the latest humanist-exploration-flick from Steve McQueen, is a stark portrayal of a man in crisis. His debut film Hunger, a meandering prison drama following the method hunger strike of Bobby Sands was of a similar vein. A powerful piece of filmmaking, from idealistic beginnings to malnourished end, it showed McQueen’s adeptness behind the camera.

Thankfully none of his skill has been lost with his fictional second feature. Michael Fassbender is quickly cementing himself as an entrancing, yet mild actor who’s capable of real confliction and crisis.  On the surface, Shame’s protagonist is a successful executive living a bachelor lifestyle many men would be envious of.

Under the surface, plagued by sex addiction and unable to show any connection to another human being, is a scary and often graphic depiction of the modern era. Empty of emotion, driven to regularly pleasure himself on work time, in the shower and at home, with pornography and chance encounters driving the false lust, Shame shows us just how alone someone can be.

Regardless of regular sex, whether it is city bar conquests or paid prostitution, Shame’s lead is alone. Even his similarly damaged sister and her constantly cries for help cannot break the cycle of devastation.

At the end we have no indication of redemption. It’s a cold film, peppered with graphic sexual imagery, suggestive taboo undertones and realistic depictions of the human body in all its fragility. Shame, much like its portrait-subject, won’t leave you satisfied. There’s no light at the end of metaphorical tunnel of love.

However, what it will do is cement both actor and director’s entrancing ability to bring an audience into the lives of dysfunction personified. The film’s score is particularly haunting, merging with questionable material and painting a picture of ruin.

A man on a downward spiral with nothing to stop him but an empty live devoid of warmth.

Depressing, motivating and essential cinema from start to finish.

Hurray! I made it to the zoo and yes, the photography came out OK. The Frog vs. Snake one at the top is one of my all time favourites, along with the monkey family. Anyway, it was another weekend of films, beating last week by one. I ended up watching six in a weekend:

• The Sitter (Cinema)
• The Red Balloon
• Cyrus
• Total Recall
• Bad Lieutenant (2009′s)
• The Big Lebowski

Talk about the definition of a lazy weekend. I love films and recently I’ve been taking full advantage of Sky Go. Everyone’s been harking on about Netflix’s arrival in the UK and while it is indeed a good service, Sky Go has a huge selection of constantly changing films available. This weekend I’ve watched (all for the first time):

• The Good, The Bad And The Ugly
• Daybreakers
• Africa United
• Hanna (DVD)

Last weekend it was:

• The Other Guys
• Howl (DVD – it lived up to my expectations).
• The Book of Eli

Have you seen any of the above? Let me know on Twitter or in the comments below. I’m hoping to see The Artist soon.

The last film post I wrote was Paranormal Activity 3. Today I’m discussing The Book of Eli, a post-apocalyptic action film with Denzel Washington. Aside from religious peddling, it was actually a decent watch. I’d wanted to see it when it was released at the cinema, but Empire’s review put me off and I thought it’d be wise to wait for it to reach Sky.

The vision of a nuclear-destroyed America isn’t new – in fact, I Am Legend and The Road both deal with similar issues. Law and order destroyed, scroungers roam the barren scarred landscape, human morals destroyed – they’re grim films and The Book of Eli is no different. People do whatever they have to tosurvive. Cannibalism’s rife and it’s touched upon in an intriguing way. It’s a lingering demon, threatening the cast but never really showing its face.

Rabid cats are eaten, shampoo is the Holy Grail and Denzel chops up plenty of people in defence of a book he’s carrying. The Book in fact, or if you’re not of Christian descent – The Holy Bible. There’s a fantastic twist at the end (one that reminds me of Fahrenheit 451) and while Mila Kunis stumbles, it’s a competent film overall.

For a short, arguably male-orientated film you can’t go wrong.

Oh, and I have a Cineworld Unlimted card so I can go to the cinema as often as I want for just £17.99/month. I’ve already seen Puss in Boots and Mission Impossible 4.

It’s been a while since I shared thoughts on a film – the last piece of cinema was Rise of the Planet of the Apes. However, today’s film is a different beast so a bit of context is necessary. I advise you read up here on the first Paranormal Activity film. My review of Insidious is also fairly helpful.

Anyway, to matter at hand – the continuation of said naturalistic camera horror franchise. I didn’t discuss the second in the series because there wasn’t anything new about it. Bar some unexpected daylight shocks, it was a near carbon copy. It continued the overarching story and was proficient at providing similar horror as the first.

The third is a different beast, generally occupying a similar narrative structure until the final third when it turns the concept on its head. There are still long bouts of tension where nothing actually happens, but it’s a Paranormal Activity film – that’s to be expected.

What’s interesting is how it makes horror convention fresh. Arguably it could be considered extremely classic, sharing much of its DNA with Rosemary’s Baby. As is always the case, less is more. Seeing nothing is the way to draw terror from an audience. The human imagination is the best actor. Eyes flitter across the scene, desperately trying to decipher whether something is amiss. A limited viewpoint, often from static camera shots and actor controlled shakey-cam, keeps you from relieving your sweaty palms.

Halloscream

To discuss the conclusion of the reverse trilogy would be unfair – the cause of the horror is revealed, but in a way that retains the art of subtle filmmaking. It totally avoids over the top spectacle. Nothing will come near the original’s low budget genius and fantastic cast, but the third is a great way to bow out.

I’m hoping this is the end – it would certainly earn the film makers respect. The yearly Halloween SAW helping has its gap filled by Paranormal the last three years and rightfully so.

Sadly a box office pull of $50 million in its opening US week suggests that it might not be all over just yet. Only time will tell.

Last weekend I went to see Rise of the Planet of the Apes of the Talking Monkeys of the Earth of the… OK. You get the idea. I’m a massive fan of the original (1968), and by now everyone knows its iconic ending. We’ll gloss over the fact it received a ton of sub-standard sequels (although the direct sequel wasn’t too bad) and we’ll definitely burn the remake a few years ago from our minds.

Anyway, the prequel with James Franco (who I lovingly throw praise over here and here), actually caught me by surprise. The older I get, I seem to be moving more and more way from computer generation in films. It’s just unfulfilling and while mindless entertainment is all good when you’re tired, it certainly doesn’t replace the need for a good story. 3D’s an even worse devil.

However, despite being a slow burner (a good hour erupts before anything really happens), it’s a film that’s fairly strong in acting talent (although the female love-interest’s pretty pants) and convincing CG. In fact, it has the most astonishing computer generation seen since Avatar or prior to that, Jurassic Park. It’s obviously farfetched (that’s Science Fiction for you), but if you can let your imagination run a little, it’s actually an enjoyable film with plenty of respectful fan service.

There’s a great “oh, holy ****” moment in it which isn’t worth spoiling. If you’re looking for a decent reboot, go see it. It’s certainly got less penis in it than The Inbetweeners Movie.

Did I mention our client made the Sunday Times…

So following on from my Top 20 Games of All Time list and the fact that Sinan keeps sending shoutouts my way, I thought it would be good to revive this a little. It’s been a while since I’ve had inspiration to write on here (although you could call the Japan photographs as inspiring), but having spent a lazy Saturday watching films, I wanted to clear my head. It’s a bit like old times.

The last cinematic thing I mused about was Men of a Certain Age, a fantastic TNT series that was sadly cancelled after its second season. Film wise, it was a review of Insidious way back in May.

Today I saw the final installation of the uber-grossing Harry Potter series and on DVD, Leon (1994). Both have a trope I thought would be interesting to discuss. Ageing.

Now, growing up with film franchises is something that’s wonderful – no matter what your age, nostalgia and rose-tinted glasses will place certain films in your heart forever. For someone born in 1988, stories like Jurassic Park, Toy Story, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings do just that. Harry Potter 7 Pt 2 is probably the last film series to end that associates itself with my childhood.

That aside, it’s been fascinating as ever to watch the cast grow from stumbling early teens to young adults (aka, me). Watching people grow up on screen is an astonishing thing and in twenty years, it’ll be an a worthwhile endeavour in returning to them. There’s already been countless words written on how Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson have [fill-in-the-blank] over the years. Wide eyed stars to mature craftspeople.

What this does provide is an intriguing backdrop to watching Leon. It’s got Jean Reno (who seems to never age), Gary Oldman and a young Natalie Portman. Seeing the 30 year old star of Black Swan reverse in age to a cute, but gutsy 13 year old is surreal. Many children change substantially over the years, but Portman looks peculiarly grown up (something the direction plays upon). It’s odd sexual undertones remind a lot of Kubrick’s Lolita – it’s an uncomfrotable position for an audience to be put in, especially with the retrospective insight provided by 16 years ageing.

It certainly draws comparison with the clever Kick Ass, but we’re yet to see the effect of 16 years. Going back in time is by far more powerful – you only have to look at a young Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver to know what I mean.

Fascinating. Also Leon / Harry Potter are both great films, so if you’ve yet to see them, rectify that.

I’m bummed. Why? In reality it’s because nothing’s changed. Yesterday US TV network TNT cancelled Men of a Certain Age, just as the second series had finished airing. Why is this an issue? American networks have a habit of running shows for half a reason, and axing them. Surely I shouldn’t be upset about this?

In reality MoaCA should be pleased that TNT supported it for as long as it did. After all, money trumps creativity in the lucrative TV market, so it was only a matter of time till the show found itself in the bin (which is a cruel comparison as rubbish deserves to be in the bin, not quality).

At this point you’re probably wondering what the show is about, and that’s half the issue. While it may have been a critical darling and possessed some of the best acting on TV, its ratings were depressingly weak. Never mind the fact that it was a show that rivalled Dexter, The Sopranos and Castle for quality and human capture, its mass appeal was limited by a lack of definitive identity.

Men of a Mixed Bag

Men of a Certain Age was an odd mix of sitcom, drama, fly-on-the-wall realism and nostalgic mundane. Maybe there really is no room for older actors in US television – its leading cast painted a realistic and natural picture of what happens in life once you leave the stumbling confusion of your early years.

Created by Mike Royce (and Ray Romano), Men was a tender exploration of life supported by some stellar talent. Maybe it’s because I have a major soft spot for Ray Romano, star of Everybody Loves Raymond (arguably my favourite sitcom rivalling Friends or Only Fools), that I fell in love with it. Would I have tuned in for the pilot if I’d not known he was the co-creator and leading star?

Without the canned latter and outlandish hijinks, Romano actually showed what a strong actor he is. Struggling with a gambling addiction, Joe (Romano’s character) juggled a party-supplies-shop, a fresh divorce, two kids and his two best friends. Over breakfast every morning, they’d sit and discuss their lives, what’s happened to them and lightly insult each other in a way that was funnier than any posed sitcom.

As the show progressed, the natural acting went from strength to strength and the supporting cast became part of your family. These felt like people you knew, wanted to know and wished to spend time with. Despite a lack of action, pace or often, noticeable plot, MoaCA weaved lives that felt real. Each of the three had their trials and tribulations that felt insurmountable – in reality, they were just jigsaw pieces that part of a less obvious master plot.

Daddy’s Little Men

How about Owen (Andre Braugher’s role) who was constantly in the shadow of his father, despite being given the keys to the family car dealership. You rooted for him, felt for him and laughed when he struggled to control his business, family life and weight. It felt as though you were next to him, even when nobody else was. His ever faithful wife and children were the only people that saw his intimate side.

And who’d forget Terry (Scott Bakula), the half assed actor turned car salesman, who refused to act his age. Constantly struggling to shake the fact he’s blinked and seen his life pass him by, his romancing and irresponsibility were escapes he constantly fell back into.

It’s not just the three that made the show – the meandering plot ensured they revealed every part of themselves. Maybe it was too realistic – with broadcast packed chock full of crime drama, serial killers, executives and singing teenagers, it might be the case that nobody wanted to sit and watch life.

Anyone tuning in could be excused in thinking it was a pseudo documentary into what happens when you hit 50 – not a lot it seems. Meals with old friends, going to work, hiking past the fantasy woman.

The saddest thing about the cancellation is that we’ll never know what’ll happen – I want to avoid spoilers. With it only running for two seasons (of twelve episodes each), it’s best you just watch it and enjoy. I do hope UK retailers see a UK DVD distribution.

I feel fairly compelled to write my thoughts on the latest horror film Insidious. Coming from the creative minds behind Paranormal Activity and the original Saw, it’s a movie that’ll have many on edge.

I generally don’t scare easy especially if the film shows too much. This is a common complaint of mine – audiences in 2011 are incapable of sticking with the unknown as they yearn for graphic horror. The thing is, by showing the audience what is actually threatening the characters it subsequently reduces its ability to frighten.

Creeping Around Corners

Alien (1979) is perhaps the most commonly used example of a tense build up film. It’s a perfect example of a gradual reveal device, with the horror still possessing the ability to unnerve even today. I penned my thoughts on Paranormal Activity (2007) (the last film to successfully keep me up all night) a while ago. It shared a lot of its merit with Alien in the way it relied on fleeting glimpses and strong sound design.

Insidious continues this trend by focusing on not what’s in frame, but what could suddenly appear. Sudden shocks are cheap – there’s no avoiding that fact. In reality you could have a loud noise accompanied by anything, a tree for example’s sake, and still jump. It’s the silence before the jump and the inquisitive nature of the human mind which always wonders what’s coming next. These are the real stars in the film.

Tight framing and a reluctance to roll with any pace means our bodies are taut; our conscious unprepared for what eventually appears. Insidious deserves every bit of praise for managing to successfully do this.

Boo

It also, as pointed out by Sean, has a distinct 1980s ‘house-on-the-hill’ feel to it. Strained violin strings, brooding fog, demonic faces in the window – there’s nothing new about Insidious‘ tropes. That doesn’t mean they’re not deployed effectively.

The final third does stumble (despite its questionable setting, it does deserve credit for keeping the raw shocks coming), but an unexpected ending redeems some of the dodgy scripting.

Insidious isn’t The Exorcist (although there are more than a few poached ideas) and it certainly isn’t on par with creepy classics like Don’t Look Now (1973) or Rosemary’s Baby (1968). However what it is is a competent modern horror that manages to keep its narrative on track and its intention, scaring you, in check. It does get a tad lost along the way, but the odd design choices are quickly overlooked as it dishes out the jumps.

And for the record, I had a semi-sleepless night.