The past week or so has seen my interest in Italian cinema of the 60s and 70s substantially increase to the point where the mere mention of the word Fellini gets my bits twisted. This might have something to do with the Contemporary European Cinema class that I am currently taking at school, or it may not (it does). Nonetheless, over the past week I have seen Antonioni’s ‘alienation’ trilogy of L’Avventura, La Notte and L’eclisse, Fellini’s 8 ½ (again) and Germi’s Seduced and Abandoned. I also have Fellini’s Juliet of the Spirits and Amarcord and Antonioni’s The Red Desert and Blow-Up (not really Italian I know but c’mon) lined up and ready for consumption. Not to mention the Visconti blu-rays sitting in my collection. The issue is time really, juggling work and studies with a burning passion for dumping it all and watching films seems to be the hardest part however.

If you don’t fall head over heels for Monica Vitti, you mustn’t have heels.

The point is that although I was aware of the influence of post-war Italian cinema (I’ve seen enough Italian neo-realism to note its importance, yet nowhere near enough), I never really understood the level of sophistication and structure Italian cinema had, especially in the 1960’s. With 800 spaghetti Westerns released in approximately 10 years, Commedia dell’arte cinema in full flourish, sword and sandal epics and in later years the rise of giallo thrillers, Italian cinema was experiencing an astounding level of cinematic output, with an incredible level of variety and skilful filmmakers. The influence of these genres on modern cinema is unquestionable, and the level of sophistication and innovation can never be overstated. However, it is the rise of the Italian auteurs in the 60s and 70s in which my current obsession lies.

This is especially true with Antonioni’s three films I mentioned before, especially L’Avventura and L’eclisse (I wasn’t as interested in La Notte, yet I have a strange sensation to revisit it as I watched it at 9am after little sleep…) which have had a profound effect on me. All of these films are intent of breaking down cinematic conventions and exploring the possibilities the medium can offer. There should be no expectations in cinema, there are no rules, and Antonioni knows this constantly challenging both himself and the viewer with alternative methods of narrative filmmaking, that I find to be incredibly inspiring. The film L’Avventura follows a young couple and their friend on a holiday on a Mediterranean boat trip. The woman in the relationship is acting strange, and seems ill at ease in her relationship and detached from her surroundings. Whilst on the trip the woman disappears. There is no dramatic build up to the disappearance, one moment she is there, the next she is not. There is no explanation; she is erased from the narrative. The characters of course frantically search for her, following one hopeless attempt after another. During the course of their search, the friend and the boyfriend begin a relationship (once again no attention is given to the relationship, it just evolves) at which point the narrative thread of the missing girl fades away and the focus is shifted to the new couple. This is the story. There is minimal to no tension and the film continues for 2 and a half hours in this fashion, drifting from one situation to the next, one location to another, until the film abruptly ends with no resolution whatsoever.

Oh Peppino, when will you ever learn?

As infuriating as this may seem to most, it is actually incredibly inspiring. To witness true artistic freedom is something that we never get to witness in our test screened, studio dominated cinematic world of today, and to think that these films were fully funded, distributed and generally well received is an incredible notion and somewhat unbelievable. Antonioni was free to explore not only the landscape of human emotion, but the also the possibilities the medium which included (but weren’t limited to) narrative ambiguity, manipulation of sound and music, exploration of time and space, editing and framing. His stylistic elements were groundbreaking and exclusively his own. By focusing on an objective analysis of the characters in his films, by watching the way they move and react in their environments, he forced us to contemplate our own roles in a constantly changing and shifting world, something more relevant today than it was even back then.

I only mention Antonioni because he is possibly one of the most extreme diversions from narrative cinema, but as a whole I think all should explore the Italian cinema industry of this era. There are absolute cinematic gems to be uncovered, and the level of sophistication in production and artistic exploration is unlike anything I have come across before. I admit that I am still green behind the ears with my knowledge of the period, but from the films I’ve seen its got my passions a ragin’. Inspiration like this is hard to come by, but I just felt like sharing a bit of it with ya’ll. You can watch both L’Avventura and 8 ½ on the fantastic website MUBI.com (if you haven’t signed up already, DO IT) at minimal costs. Give it a go, you may begin a habit that is pretty hard to kick.

Check em out @ MUBI

L’Avventura: http://mubi.com/films/209

8 ½: http://mubi.com/films/150 

And my profile if you want to add me (lol self promotion): http://mubi.com/users/22538

The Adjustment Bureau is evidence that sometimes the great Hollywood machine can yield pleasing results. It is a film that has all the clichés and trappings of the classic Hollywood narrative and style; three act structure, exposition, music cues, a neatly packaged resolution…the list goes on. What it also has is a screenplay that is an adaptation of a Philip K. Dick short story, a decent cast and a director/writer that has a keen sense of storytelling and dramatic tension. It is far from a great film, and after watching it my girlfriend and I agreed that we could really take nothing away from the film that would sustain any lasting power. What we did take away from it however was an interesting, well-balanced story and a good night at the cinema with an entertaining film. Sometimes, that itself is the sign of a good film.

The Adjustment Bureau takes place in modern times where a politician (Matt Damon a.k.a. the man who cannot turn down a job) is running for US States Senate. He is charismatic, ambitious and has overcome adversity after losing his entire family early on in his life. After losing the election he meets a young woman (Emily Blunt) in the men’s bathroom and immediately they both sense a spark and very briefly embrace, only to be torn apart by duties. This is the backbone of what is essentially a love story that pits two individuals against all odds fighting for their love. Sound familiar? Well, perhaps not in this context. What we also learn is that there is an organization that works behind closed doors, mapping out the fate of each individual on the planet and making sure that said destinies are properly played out. Usually they don’t interfere with the proceedings of every day life, and rarely do they expose themselves to regular folk, but in this case of chance romantic encounters, they must intervene. To explain anymore would give away plot details.

As I stated earlier, the film definitely adheres to the strict narrative and stylistic structures that have dominated mainstream cinema for years, and the film suffers due to this. Where it succeeds however, is in the realisation that this is in fact a both an analysis of freedom of choice (albeit somewhat limited in scope) and a simple love story in a complex situation. The film balances these elements quite well, rarely slipping into melodrama or overt science fiction. Sure the film has its moments of unbelievable actions of its characters, but these can be forgiven, as they are slight. The actual organisation chasing the couple is not given much back story or explanation which helps to not only enhance the mystery of the situation, but also helps in suspending disbelief. Who is “The Chairman”? Is it God? How do those books work? These questions are not answered and they don’t need to be. What remains is an efficient treatment of the subject matter that does nothing but propel the story forward and the film is better off for it.

The bureaucratic and corporate structuring of the organization is classic Philip K. Dick presenting commentary on globalization and corporate control that is not overstated in the film whatsoever. The film plays it safe and sticks to what is important: the plight of the two protagonists and the consequences of their actions. Damon and Blunt are great but not stand out, their meeting and chemistry appears natural and aside from some stuffy moments of declaration of love you do care for them and what happens to them (a rarity in many modern “love stories”).

Where the film fails mostly however is its neatly packaged and irritatingly simplistic ending which literally shoves the entire message and idea of the film directly down your throat, treating the audience like inept toddlers assuming that we cannot figure out even the simplest of metaphors. Once again, I must point out that this is a Hollywood film and must appeal to many and adhere to the guidelines of cinema that have been working for them for years however, this drags down what could have been a very interesting film that addresses the notion of freewill in a corporate world in which the attainment of it feels further and further away each day. What we are left with is an entertaining, solid film, and even though its potential is stunted by the limited narrative and stylistic elements, sometimes entertainment is all we really need to be satisfied.

moviesinframes:

Easy Rider, 1969 (dir. Dennis Hopper)

Captain American and Billy. Debunking American mythology…on bikes!

So ILM have entered CGI animation game. Well, that is sort of an incorrect statement considering they practically invented and mainstreamed its usage in modern film; lets just say there is a new runner in the Pixar/Dreamworks race (of which Pixar is infinitely in the lead, but that’s another article). Helmed by director Gore Verbinski (of Pirates of the Caribbean fame), Rango is quite the unique viewing experience and for a number of reasons will most likely fail to catch on with the general multiplex folk. Those who are looking for an eschewed form of the traditional animation however will be pleasantly surprised, as Rango not only strays far from the pack, it sometimes goes right off the deep end.

Rango is the tale of a chameleon with ambition. When we are first introduced to him he has wild and delusional acting aspirations, performing and directing performances with wound up toys and half destroyed dolls in his glass tank. A sudden twist of fate immediately finds this lizard stranded in the middle of the desert and embarking on a quest to rid himself of an identity crisis and also save a dying town from complete extinction. Part Jodorowsky existential journey and part Leone spaghetti western with lashings of Dali surrealism; to say that Rango is rooted in cinema past would be an understatement. Gore Verbinski is quite obviously channelling cinematic history both in his narrative and more importantly visually, and it is perhaps the most divisive factor of the film. Does Rango rely to heavily on its influences or does it effectively use them to craft its own unique approach to post modern cinematic style?

These questions can be answered with a look at the films strong and weak points. For starters, the film looks incredible. The level of detail, the character design, the lighting and the landscapes are all so breathtaking that its hard to sometimes pay attention to the plot because you have to pick your jaw up off the floor. Everything in this film looks like the pinnacle of computer generated imagery, as if it seems like there could be no room for improvement. From the sparse long shots of characters wandering through dream and desert landscapes, to close ups of the imperfect, dirty faces of the townsfolk, it’s a visual feast for the senses. Voice acting is particularly impressive also, especially Johnny Depp whose dynamic range and personality are hilarious and emotive. There lies another element of the film that works, its humour. The film strikes a wonderful balance between eccentric, slapstick humour and more refined, subtle quirks and quips that require your full attention to understand. It truly is a funny film, of which most of the humour will surely go over the heads of its intended audience.

Therein lies the biggest problem with the film however; its inability to connect with what I feel will be the majority of its audience, families and children. Not only is this film very sophisticated and clever in its humour, it is also extremely dark and confronting at certain points. A lizard facing an existential crisis and searching for identity and purpose is already not the most approachable material for the films intended audience, but there are moments of this film which would be quite stressful for even the most well-grounded of individuals. In my opinion, these challenging aspects of the film only create a richer experience as the film employs a colourful dynamic range that few of these types of films tend to achieve, but for those expecting a family friendly ordeal, they may be unpleasantly surprised.

Which brings us to the initial point of whether the film relies too much on its genre exercise or not. Ostensibly Rango (whose main character has no name for starters) is a fairly predictable story. Something along the lines of Chinatown but without the complex plot twists and film noir elements, the film plays out much in the vein of your traditional western. Troubled hero comes to town and gathers the respect of the townsfolk through an act of courageousness, in turn redeeming him of all previous wrongdoings. It is far from original material, which doesn’t help it in carving out its own unique identity. This is why all the filmic references (while wildly entertaining and fun to pick out) just don’t work. Even though they range from subtle (creaking from the opening of Once Upon a Time in the West in the bar sequence) to the obvious (Timothy Olyphant as The Man with No Name) they don’t work in conjunction with the script.

That being said, Rango is an incredible achievement considering the context in which it was made. It is a very fun, exciting and visually spectacular film which attempts to bring the genres and films of the past to a modern cinematic audience.  For this I cannot fault it, as it provides a wonderful experience and is a very stylistically original entry into this CGI animation game. Unfortunately a fairly weak story and the abundance of cinematic references don’t meld together as well as they should and the film evades a classic status. However, for ILM this is a great first step, and hopefully we see some more films taking risks like this one. I’ll certainly be grateful for it.

I adored The Wrestler. As a cinematic experience it was almost perfect and the best culmination of Darren Aronofsky’s verite style and ability to merge story and style appropriately eliciting a pitch perfect emotional resonance. There are of course other elements of the film (such as acting and score) which contribute to the film’s success, but it is Aronofsky’s vision which must be called into question if one is to review his latest film Black Swan. A complete exercise in genre and style, Black Swan attempts to merge the iconography of the melodrama and the horror film alongside the merging of a classic cinematic style and a more modern handheld, verite approach. Is he successful? Does this approach integrate well with the thematic and narrative elements of the film? Well, I suppose the answer is just as juxtaposed as the approach itself. Yes there are elements of this film in which the filmmaking style goes hand in hand with the source material producing a quite shocking and surreal experience. Other elements result in a jilted, forced experience. But I digress.

Black Swan tells the tale of ballet dancer Nina (Natalie Portman) and her transformation (both literally and figuratively) from virginal innocence into a furious, maddened shadow of her former self; essentially a descent into madness. This is a result of extreme pressures (such as competition and a yearning for perfection) that lead her to confront repressed emotions, such as her relationship with her mother, her frigidness and her lack of confidence and basically violently overcome them. The film takes the exact model of Powell and Pressburger’s stunning The Red Shoes and translates it for the ballet of Swan Lake, whereby the ballet that they are performing in the film becomes the plot of the actual film itself in a dramatic twist of irony. Unlike the Archers classic film, this irony is entirely evident even from the beginning. When Thomas (Vincent Cassel) begins describing the plot of Swan Lake it is already too much exposition and the film just snowballs from there. The plot development is far too heavy handed with characters describing their situations and their feelings all the while constantly reminding us that we are watching an adaptation of Swan Lake. The lack of subtlety in symbolic use is a big issue.

Most of that stems from Vincent Cassel’s performance of the ballet director. The film is recognisable a melodrama, so when certain characters overdramatise it is merely accepted as part of the tone of the film; it is ballet after all. Cassel’s Thomas however is such an unbelievable caricature that it is actually distracting. His constant flamboyant outbursts don’t detract from the obvious flaws the script has, but irritatingly add to them. He is the obviously the weakest link of the film. Natalie Portman however puts in a classic melodramatic performance (as well as a quite commendable physical one) and was highly deserving of the awards she has garnered. Mila Kunis (the carefree, tempestuous Lily) is very suited to her role as Nina’s mirror image and their relationship is very interesting to watch unfold.

For the first hour or so of the film the verite style is a real distraction. Perhaps it is because of my affection for the meticulous framing of The Red Shoes but it seems like these themes and this story deserved a less busy, more constructed directorial approach. It wasn’t however until the final half hour or so that it became clear to me that this was not an option if the suspense and emotional impact of the final act was to be attained. The film quickly becomes a horror film in this last act and here is where the handheld, non-filmic look was extremely beneficial. There are moments in this last half hour, which are truly frightening, as the cacophony of music, sound and visual effects, performance and visual style swirl and build to a final crescendo that is unforgettable.

Black Swan may be overly symbolic and frustratingly poorly constructed, but underneath all of its flaws I’m sure there is a good film, perhaps even a great one. Aronofsky does his best with the material, but unfortunately the film moves in a different direction an hour in which results in an inconsistent visual style. And while the performances all range from solid to good, the film would have been much easier to stomach had Vincent Cassel flown south for the winter or some other attempted witticism along those lines. Black Swan comes recommended, just don’t expect a masterpiece.

It seems like the Coen Brothers are a never-ending well of ideas and inspiration. They seem to churn out a film almost every year, with frightening consistency in quality, varying subject matter and a directorial authorship that is almost a template for auteurist theory. This year they tackle the Western, a classic Hollywood genre rich in mythology and social commentary, with their film True Grit. The film is based upon the novel written by Charles Portis, and while the book already exists in the filmic form of Henry Hathaway’s 1969 film of the same name, the Coen brothers prove with their version that further adaptation is entirely valid.

I came out of True Grit with a very different attitude to the one that I now hold towards the film. What I was certain that I had perceived was a very well made film which was structurally sound, with some beautiful photography, finessed acting and a screenplay in which language and attention to detail of said language was immaculate. However that was all. The film is technically proficient, but it lacked the lasting power and open-endedness that the Coen brothers typically employ in their films. Not to say that this is a requirement of the cinematic experience, but that it usually proves a much richer experience post-viewing. Oh how wrong I was.

It has been a few days since I saw the film, and it constantly revisits my thoughts. What strikes me so much about the film is its simplicity of story. It has an understated quality to it that is so pitch perfect and brilliantly subtle that it will demand further viewings. It retains a classicism to it that evades most films made in this modern era and its themes are universal, transcending time and place. In this sense it is the perfect Western, with a high level of attention to detail both in set design, location and most importantly language, characters that are both wildly eccentric and painfully human, but most importantly the ability to extend its themes and imagery to a modern audience.

The film is essentially about the relationship between two opposite personalities (those being Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) and Rooster Cogburn (Jeff Bridges)) the journey they go on, the redemptive qualities each offer the other and the after effects of this significant moment in their lives. This story, of a young girl hiring a U.S. Marshall to help find the killer of her father, is handled with such grace and truthfulness and the resolution is painfully tender, never overstating or over-dramatising each characters turning point in the film.

True Grit is the classiest of filmmaking. It oozes confidence, subtlety and a keen sense of storytelling. The Coens have tackled their first true genre film successfully and made it their own, and although the effect of what you are seeing may not be entirely obvious initially, as with all classic films you must allow it grow on you and ponder the particulars if you are to reap its greatest rewards. Trust me, there are many of them.

Michel Gondry once showed some promise. Initially birthed from the world of alternative music videos, his first feature film Human Nature, although being a film I haven’t seen, got him off on the right foot; a collaboration with a figure of much reverie, Charlie Kaufman. His next film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, another Kaufman collaboration, is one of the finest films of the preceding decade, proving Gondry’s knack for non-traditional effects work and an eccentric and wildly imaginative visual style. He returned to France for his next feature The Science of Sleep which contained perhaps more creativity and flare visually than anything he had directed up until that point, but with a major flaw; the script was helmed by himself and subsequently resulted in a mostly incoherent film. Once again with Be Kind Rewind, Gondry takes writing credits and the same flaws emerge. Narrative jumble, lack of characterization and declining interest plague the film, in which its last saving grace is the visual style. Which brings us to The Green Hornet.

This time the writing credits belong to Seth Rogan and Evan Goldberg (Superbad, Pineapple Express) which piqued my interest as I am quite a fan of both of those films, especially Pineapple Express which manages to approaches the action comedy hybrid with great success, whilst stamping it with a unique directorial approach by indie director David Gordon Green. Now I would just like to announce my lack of reference with the adapted material in discussion here, as I am highly unfamiliar with the history and basic story elements of The Green Hornet. I was aware of Bruce Lee’s involvement and the generalities of the series, but apart from that my lack of knowledge in this area should be made overtly clear. That does not mean that I can enjoy the film any less, or in this case dislike it.

There are many things about this film that just flat out don’t work, but the main problem area is most definitely the screenplay. This film doesn’t know whether it wants to adhere to the traditional superhero mould that Hollywood has now firmly shaped, or whether it wants to break it. It jumps between edgy and tame, innovative and formulaic, it basically has no consistency and very little flow. The jokes manage to constantly fall flat on their face (except for maybe Jay Chou) and the character motivation and development is weak at best. Seth Rogan’s delivery is uncomfortable and the chemistry between him and Chou is just passable. The film just seems to be going through the motions and remains at a limp pace almost for its entirety.

There are however some moments of Gondry style shining through such as the Kato-vision sequences and the montage towards the end of the film (which is overly exposed, just in case all you slack jawed cinema goers didn’t understand the plot direction (and frankly I wouldn’t blame you)), but they do barely anything to keep the film above water. Christoph Waltz is hired again to be the quirky villain, a role he is forever destined to be typecast in, and Cameron Diaz is highly forgettable. Not to mention the romance subplot which serves absolutely no context within the over arching story. Everything feels out of place here, including James Franco’s irritating and predictable cameo at the beginning, which I really wanted to love, but just rolled my eyes a few times. (Not a great sign at the beginning of the film)

If this review feels like it has no coherence, it probably isn’t a coincidence because it is almost impossible to approach this film coherently, and although I sound like I deplored the film that just isn’t true. Frankly I just expected better considering the talent on board. What I was left with however was something as dull, uninspiring and boring as any number of Hollywood superhero films being mass-produced today.

Hey ya’ll, just my thoughts about this years cinematic delights and delicacies. Second half to come soon.

20. I’m Still Here

What started as a performance piece, a study of our obsession with celebrity and the voyeurism involved in watching them fall from grace turned into something that nobody really cared about. What resulted was a film that is as funny as it is sad and at times, somewhat convincing. Although Joaquin Phoenix’s Kaufman schtick was a failure, the film and concept is as adventurous as it is pointless. Seeing Johnny Cash snort coke off a hooker’s chest is rewarding enough as it is though.

19. Four Lions

Everybody loves this film. I’m not really one of those people. A group of braindead, wannabe terrorists attempt to plan an attack on unsuspecting victims seems like a tightrope concept, especially when considering its intended to be a comedy. However, what results is a fairly consistent tone, which does very little to offend, but rather entertain. Every single character in this film is beyond stupid, which is my main issue with the film, none of the characters (except the main character perhaps) deserve empathy which left me with nothing but a fairly funny film. I just wanted more than that I guess. Nonetheless, it is a clever film that perfectly utilises its tricky subject matter to its advantage.

18. Tetro

The king of 70’s Hollywood presents us with a very personal, small black and white film about two brothers re-uniting in Argentina after several years. The film is a very successful low budget affair which proves that great filmmaking comes from the auteurist touch, the honest and personal approach, and this is where the film wins me over. Although it isn’t as tight as it could be, and peters out as it reaches its slightly complex finale, it is a strong release for a director who at one point specialised in nothing but self-indulgence (and thats a positive).

17. Symbol

Pythonesque humour can be seen everywhere in the modern world. Symbol is evidence that it has even reaches Japan (as if anime and manga weren’t obvious enough examples of absurdity). We have a man, who wakes up in a room and has no idea how he got there or how to get out, and is constantly coming up against a ridiculous number of challenges and obstacles. This is the basic premise of the film. Simultaneously a lucha libre wrestler is getting ready to fight in Mexico. We watch as the two stories progress, and hilarity ensues. Symbol is the project of Hitoshi Matsumoto, a famous Japanese comedian, and his slapstick work is brilliant. Where the film fails however, is the ending which attempts to tack some significance to the whole ordeal, which defies the absurdist logic present throughout the whole film. Nonetheless, it is a very entertaining and wildly funny film about well…you decide.

16. Summer Wars

Madhouse have been churning out some fantastic films of late, and hopefully, even  with the unfortunate passing of Satoshi Kon, this tradition continues. Summer Wars shows no signs of slowing down. The film is a visual splendour, absolutely brimming with imaginative ideas and concepts and all the while filtered through a traditional story of family togetherness. The film is very critical of the increasing issue that technology is corroding basic human interaction and the anonymity of the online experience. The film gets lost in itself however, and looses fluidity and coherence 2/3rds of the way through. Not to mention the final sequence which doesn’t do justice to the wonderful creativity and ideas that precede it. Summer Wars is a beautiful film, with a clear message and a simple statement that unfortunately gets lost in its complex presentation of its ideas.

15. Le Donk & Scor-Zay-Zee

This is England was my favourite film of 2008, so you can understand my anticipation in seeing Shane Meadow’s newest film. It was shot in five days and is essentially a mockumentary about a real life rapper and his attempts at attaining stardom with the help of his somewhat deluded manager (the always brilliant Paddy Considine). The film works fairly well as a fly on the wall type deal and brings out some genuine laughs and pathos along the way. It is far from a cinematic affair and feels a lot more like a student film, which I guess adds to the aesthetic, but it leaves you with a rather empty experience. Also with a 71 minute running time, it disallows any real character exploration. However, the two mains have a great chemistry and the film is wickedly funny and genuinely emotive, another tick in the Shane Meadows tally, just a rather small one.

14. Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows, Pt. 1

I’ve never been a Harry Potter guy. The first two films are charming in a wide eyed wonder sort of way, Prisoner of Azkaban the best of the bunch and the others have their moments, but ultimately are unrewarding. The children don’t seem to improve their acting chops and at times the chemistry between them is laughable. However, the films constantly support an array of talented British actors and it is interesting to note the progression of the films in tone and style. The newest film sees the kids out of Hogwarts and on the run, and this setting proves to be a breath of fresh air to the franchise. As the film is split in two, it allows for a much richer character development than previously shown in past films and extended and energetic action sequences. The film tends to plod along in some parts, but as far as Blockbuster fare goes this is a class act, and certainly one of the best in the franchise.

13. Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame

Hong Kong cinema has its fair share of wild insanity and unbridled creativity and this fits about square in the middle. A wonderful blending of wu xia martial arts film and CGI blockbuster wonder is present here with excess in abundance and a generally enthusiastic and energetic approach to filmmaking. As absurd as some of the ongoings may seem to Western audiences, this is standard Hong Kong filmmaking with inventive and creative attitudes to special effects and stunt work that gave Tsui Hark the reputation he still holds today. Although the film becomes a tad convoluted, its the precedes of an all star cast that helps work magic in this incredibly fun and eye-popping cinematic gem.

12. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

Postmodernism run rampant. The incredibly self-aware and ultra-modern Scott Pilgrim was quite an under performer at the box office, and it really isn’ hard to see why. Many people claim that modern filmmaking has lost its meticulous craftsmanship and that directing has taken a back seat to editing, with energy now being derived from action sequences built from an obscene amount of editing cuts. Scott Pilgrim is plagued with this modern trend, and the film is better off for it. Edgar Wright’s first Hollywood film is completely successful in tone and attitude and absolutely gets the most out of his performers and source material. It is a visual splendour, taking cues from anime, video games and sharp witted internet humour while all the while equating this hectic alternate reality with a simple story about the baggage people carry with them, especially in relationships. Although the film is far too self-aware and constantly references pop culture for reasons that serve no purpose, it is great fun and a seriously inventive and imaginative film, even if it results in a somewhat hollow experience.

11. Kick-Ass

Which brings us to the other comic book film this year that we should actually give a damn about, Kick-Ass. Once again, the best films are the ones that attempt to provide their audiences with novel ideas and experiences (for the most part). What we get with Kick-Ass is just that, a different approach to the traditional comic book film in which a regular teenager takes it upon himself to don the mask and fight crime. This self-appointed vigilante theme isn’t an original idea in the slightest, but it is due to Kick-Ass’ self-awareness and bravado that allows the film to succeed. Casting choices are spot on, especially with Chloe Grace Moretz as Hit Girl and Nic Cage (doing his best Adam West impression) as Big Daddy. The film adopts a balls-to-the-wall visual style and its action sequences are stunning. Not to mention its sly commentary on the formulaic nature of traditional comic book story lines, the film is an absolute blast. (I’m sorry but that picture is god damn hilarious)

Tsui Hark. One of Hong Kong’s premier filmmakers in the the realm of the combination of Eastern wuxia (wire-fu) kung fu action and Western CGI effects, and Detective Dee & the Mystery of the Phantom Flame is no different. In fact, it is a wonderful example of a harmonious relationship between the two. Featuring an all star Hong Kong cast (Andy Lau, Bingbing Li, Tony Leung) and choreography by the enormous Sammo Hung, this instantly seemed to be a winner. Tsui Hark has previously brought us classic Hong Kong hits such as A Chinese Ghost Story (1987), Peking Opera Blues (1986) and the Once Upon a Time in China trilogy, and still continues to be a prolific artist to this day, both directing, producing and writing sometimes more than one film a year.

Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame is the latest directorial effort from Tsui Hark and after riding the festival circuit, it finally makes its way to our shores (of course via limited release). The film is a period piece set in AD 690 whereby the position of the emperor has been handed over to a female, the first time in Chinese history. Needless to say, many of the male members of the council feel threatened, and therein lie the roots of our mystery. The film begins before the empresses inauguration whereby all of the people are building a giant Buddha in preparation. Upon giving a Roman representative a tour of the Buddha in construction, two of the Chinese officials spontaneously combust in a blaze of CGI glory. Some blame it on superstition, others suspicious of poisoning, but the empress is left no choice but to release Detective Dee to solve the crime, a man who she imprisoned years ago for treason.

Essentially, the film follows along the lines of a standard detective procedural, with twists and turns that are best left to the viewers own experience. The procedural in question is certainly enticing and a lot of fun to watch unfold, especially when combined with the zany, nonsensical attitudes to filmmaking that Hong Kong often embraces. Combine this with the creative and energetic choreography and kung fu on display and you get one fantastic slice of Hong Kong cinema. The fact that the film is placed in an entirely artificial environment of CGI only enhances the creativity and energy, of which the film is brimming with. See, the difference between Hong Kong and Hollywood action sequences lies exactly in the application of these elements. Hollywood is determined to repeat successful formulas of action sequences (with some exceptions of course) and a constant attempt to utilise CGI to create the illusion of reality. Hong Kong on the other hand embraces the artificial nature of CGI effects and uses them either for comedy or mostly for the production of a heightened reality, not to mention the carefully planned and executed choreography which constantly tries to re-invent and outdo itself in exciting and creative ways.

Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame gets all of these elements right, and utilises them in a harmonious and complimentary way which makes for quite an entertaining and stimulating action cinematic experience. Although it may be jarring for someone not familiar with the tongue-in-cheek, insane stylings and attitudes of Hong Kong cinema I would not hesitate to recommend this film as a primer. It is a great example of what makes Hong Kong cinema such an exciting place to explore, and although the film may overstay its welcome slightly, it is nonetheless a great piece of modern action adventure cinema.

“David Fincher is making a film about fucking Facebook?” — This was my initial reaction to the announcement that Fincher would be taking the reigns behind what I instantly deemed to be a ‘doomed project’. Why do we need a film about a phenomena that is so current and of the present? How could any retrospective insight be explored? How can a film utilise a subject matter that most of the population is already consumed by and therefore up to date with its current on goings and societal impact? It turns out in however that there is a fascinating story to be told, involving universal themes that are less about the Facebook as a communication and social tool, but more about the genesis of said tool, the characters involved in its incarnation and an exploration of loyalty, betrayal and ambition in the face of potential fame and glory.

Let’s get one thing straight. I was wrong in my assumptions. David Fincher makes this work. Coming off the back of his meticulously crafted Zodiac (2007), The Social Network takes story structure and framing techniques of that film and filters them through a completely different but equally effective tonal resonance. Where Zodiac plagued its audience with a sense of claustrophobia and distress, The Social Network adopts a very different attitude. For lack of a better word, I would describe it as a punk aesthetic, whereby every character, every action oozes confidence and cool. Combined with Reznor’s extremely supportive score, the actions of these central characters consistently remains exciting and dangerous. Whether it be after crashing the Harvard server or facing a double lawsuit, Mark Zuckerberg (a career defining performance for Eisenberg) remains sharp witted and acid-tongued. He truly believes in his pursuit, ready to face its ramifications head on and it is this anti-establishment attitude and tone that fuel the films driving narrative.

The screenplay (by Aaron Sorkin) is sophisticated and insightful. Not only is the dialogue hilarious and sharp (a Sorkin trademark), but the overall themes are so universal and human that it is hard not to get emotionally invested in the pursuits of these budding billionaires. The definition of a caustic relationship, the two central characters (Zuckerberg and Eduardo (Andrew Garfield)) relationship foundation is constantly challenged by external forces as their endeavors grow in scope. It is the ultimate tale for the modern world where capitalist sensibilities (a hunger and allure of money and power) begin to destroy something pure and honest. As the pair begin to acquire more users, more money and more opportunities, their loyalty to one another is constantly tested, until the relationship fractures in a messy yet inevitable conclusion.

It is these elements that allows the film to resonate so well. By focusing on a singular event familiar to all and injecting classic human frailties and fallibility, one cannot help but feel empathy. Combine this with skilled and controlled direction, aesthetically pleasing elements such as sophisticated, exciting editing and a modern score and some wonderful performances, The Social Network becomes a parable for the postmodern age, and most definitely one of the years best films.