"The problem is, I went on a food and wine tour of Italy. And it was so much more fun and so much more interesting. And I was like, who is this person? If you're gonna do Italy, you know, you plan ahead! You have fun! She spent the whole time in Rome, and then she went to Naples. That's not… to be in Italy, and to undoubtedly have a wee bit of money, she didn't plan it well. She didn't go to Sicily, or Assisi, or Venice, or Florence, or Milan. How boring can you be? It's like, hey, you're in Italy. She wasn't making the best of it. When I went on my trip, of eating Italy, we went to people's houses, we were interacting, it was fun! That Thanksgiving dinner… You don't want to know the truth. It was sort of ridiculous. I was like, did I pay money to see this? And I only paid $6, because I went before noon. It was so contrived.As we seek a new film criticism paradigm, this is clearly the way forward.
Showing posts with label julia roberts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label julia roberts. Show all posts
"she didn't plan it well."
Film Dodai Stewart from Jezabel asks his mother to review Julia Roberts's latest Eat Pray Love:
Watching all of Woody Allen's films in order: Everyone Says I Love You (1996)
Then For me, the optimum time to watch films is 7:30 in the evening, after dinner but before you’re too tired to concentrate. Just after lunch is ok, though it does leave the pregnant pause between 3pm and dinner time, when if you’re in a city centre, the only thing left to do is navigate the rush hour traffic. The strangest time is the morning, just after breakfast which is when I saw Everyone Says I Love You, a week before release in the old Odeon on London Road with my friend Tris, mainly because, if it’s been a particularly good film, you know that there can’t be many things you’ll be doing for the rest of the day which will quite as entertaining.
Now I usually try to listen to the music of whichever film I’m writing about as I’m tapping away which means I have the soundtrack to Everyone Says I Love You on in the background right now. As with the film, it opens with Ed Norton (Ed Norton!) singing Just You, Just Me and I’m grinning from ear to ear, a Cheshire cat grin and I suspect it wouldn’t require Tim Burton, CGI or glasses to tell that it’s in three dimensions. I just know, that when I should be listening to the new Laura Marling album, this is going to be on repeat. Said soundtrack isn’t on Spotify, but I’ve curated this compilation by way of compensation.
Against prevailing expectations, the 90s was a purple patch; only a director at the top of their game, or with extreme confidence would attempt a musical at this point, especially one which bridges three cities and has such a massive cast. It’s not simply the variety of films Woody was directing, but their quality in terms of writing, star power, originality and visual ingenuity. To fixate, as some critics did at the time, on Woody choosing to have his character romance the most famous actress in Hollywood is missing the point entirely.
Though I like musicals, you’d have to ask Rick Altman or even Emma Brokes as to where Everyone Says I Love You fits within the history of the genre. To this layman, choreographer Graciela Daniele’s dance numbers remind me of Les Demoiselles de Rochefort with their highly co-ordinated seeming naturalism and the approach to song must have influenced Joss Whedon in deciding how to deal with the varying voice talent of the cast in Buffy’s Once More With Feeling.
And not just the singing. Like the Scooby gang, these characters seem well aware that they’re in a musical comedy; Natasha Lyonne says as much in the voice over and there’s the wonderful moment went Goldie Horne admonishes Alan Alda for breaking into song for no readily apparent reason. Unlike the Scoobies they seem very happy with the situation, and why not? Wouldn’t the world be a better place if we could burst into song on the bus, floating in WH Smiths or in a restaurant without people thinking we’re a bit mental or pissed or both?
Storywise, the strongest thread is Woody’s seduction of Julia Roberts, which is of course the comic version of Another Woman which the director mentioned in the Stig Bjorkman interview, though as in that film he avoids the predictable pay off in having Roberts discovering that her intimate thoughts have been “stolen” and yet still leaving Woody with the moral wreckage of changing his life to accommodate this dream girl, only for her to not be satisfied after all. There’s a reason that dreams are aspirational, otherwise we have nothing to strive for.
Courageously, Julia sings. We can tell it’s her voice because her name appears on the soundtrack listing, as does Norton, Lyonne, Allen, Alan Alda, Tim Roth (Tim Roth!) and Goldie Hawn, who it’s reputed was so good Woody asked her to detune herself so that she fitted his aspiration for the characters to sing like real people. Sadly, that isn’t Drew Barrymore – she balked considering her own voice to be too awful for anyone to hear – and in case you’re wondering why she signed up for this kind of musical in the first place, Woody didn’t tell the actors it was a musical until he had their signatures.
These facts are courtesy of the every accurate Imdb incidentally, which also says that Tracey Ullman and Liv Tyler filmed scenes for this film which were subsequently cut. Imagine: Julia Roberts, Natalie Portman, Natasha Lyonne, Drew Barrymore, Liv Tyler, Gaby Hoffmann and Goldie Hawn on the same shooting schedule. It’s an intergenerational manic pixie dream girl convention. No wonder Lukas “What ever happened appened to Lukas Haas?” Haas looks so happy to be there and Alan Alda so harassed. Sadly, Kristen Dunst was still on e.r. (having already had her uncredited screen debut as one of Mia’s kids in Oedipus Wrecks), Maggie Gyllenhaal making tv movies and Zooey hadn’t started on films yet so it’s not quite definitive.
In short, the film is magical. I’ve seen criticism from people who don’t like the fact that other than the Allen/Roberts mash-up it doesn’t have a strong storyline but wittingly or otherwise isn’t that just a comment on the fact that some of the best musicals don’t have a strong storyline? Aren’t they a pageant, a series of incidents which sometimes make some narrative sense but not always? Don’t they often include moments like the death of Grandpa which are generally just a prelude for some more song and dance? Frankly if I didn’t have another twenty-odd Woody Allen related films I’d be spending the rest of the year proving it.
The Year In Film 2009. Part One.
The problem with simply listing my favourite films of the year is that, as usual, that I haven't seen half of anything which has been released. So instead I've decided, over the next few days, to offer a capsule opinion of all the film I have seen from this year according to the directory printed in this month's Empire Magazine. It should be longer. Let's begin ...
Angels & Demons
Not quite as pantomime entertaining as The Da Vinci Code and mostly consists of Hanks and co running from church to church before the kind of fake out twist M Night would disapprove of. But the anti-matter explosion is Baroquely awe-inspiring and not even Hitchcock developed a suspense sequence based around trying to escape from a malfunctioning library microclimate.
Anvil! The Story of Anvil
It was impossible not be swept along by the sheer injustice of seeing these apparently influential musicians eeking out an existence while their once cohorts continued to have exciting careers. Hopefully the filmmakers continued their association and we'll be able to see a sequel that investigates this mid-level band struggling with their own limitations in the, you know, harsh face of stardom.
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Impressed by taking the modern filmmaking techniques in make-up and CGI and marrying them to script and direction with an old Hollywood sensibilities, even if Brad Pitt’s performance as Button mostly consisted of him regressing through his different screen personas right back through Thelma and Louise.
The Damned United
Not knowing anything about football and particularly Brian Clough, I was able to watch this without prejudice and simply enjoy a large collared, rose-tinted study in hubris and friendship which demonstrated that you can never assume anything is permanent because it can all too easily be taken away and that loyalty is just as important as success.
Doubt
A fairly good demonstration of my theory that any play will work on film if it's shot simply and you use some decent, committed actors (see also Neil LeBute's The Shape of Things). Some criticised its lack of pace and moralistic tone. I revelled in the pleasure of seeing a compelling three-hander that actually gave its participants space to act, the camera resting upon their faces, and which offered no easy answers. Revealed Amy Adams as an actress with some range and depth and a potential successor Streep who, if she’s not careful, will spend the rest of her career playing jagged matriarchs.
Duplicity
Battling with The International as the best Clive Owen film of the year, like Benjamin Button this recalled old Hollywood in its treatment of character, its curious mix of screwball comedy, espionage and unreliable exposition not sitting well with some critics, especially with that ending. I loved it, though the rather prosaic approach to slipping between timeframes grated after a while. Soderberghian wipes would have done just fine.
Fireflies In The Garden
Which I gave twenty minutes of my time before deciding that writer/director Dennis Lee didn’t know how to structure a script, that he wasn’t going to have anything new or interesting to say about families and that it wasn’t worth sitting through the rest. We didn’t need to see the older Julia Roberts in the opening. Better to have her living totally in the flashbacks as a memory; it makes her character more significant. Also, if Ryan Reynolds is your viewpoint character, why cut ahead to his destination?
Frost/Nixon
Feels like it was released about ten years ago, which was probably writer Peter Morgan’s intention. Cleverly turned the interviews into a kind of boxing film, with the build up to the fight, the pre-show sparring and the consequences for loss stacked up against each of the participants. It would be interesting at some point to see Sheen not playing a celebrity or overtly character based role; the idea of seeing him in a romantic comedy has its attractions, not least in imagining who would be his co-star. I suppose Miranda July would be out of the question [full review].
The Girl Cut in Two
Or Sky weather girl Lisa Burke turns up in the middle of Harold Pinter’s Sleuth and starts romancing Larry Olivier or Michael Caine depending on which version you’re watching. An expression of what’s wrong with film distribution in the UK, Chabrol’s film took two year to cross the channel from France. But to be fair the terse characterisation probably didn’t help in trying to package film or the wild vacillations in tone, between May-to-December romance and psychoanalytical pseudo-erotic thriller. Fun.
Harry Potter & The Half-Blood Prince
Still not as a good as Azkaban and mostly set-up for The Deathly Hallows, this instalment was the creepiest of the series so far, especially the scenes in the swamp and in the retrieval of the memory. Other than the first two, I’ve only watched each of these films once. I’m looking forward to taking in the epic sweep of narrative in one go when the dvds of the finale have been released, watching the kids grow-up into fine young actors.
The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus
In an ideal world, like Woody Allen, studios would be throwing Gilliam money every year to produce a new film, knowing full well that the result will at least be out of the ordinary and different to anything else on the market as a way of demonstrating that they are still interested in funding independent voices. Instead, Gilliam has to scrape around to get the money together, never has enough time, has to deal with studio interference and unforeseeable happenstance which results in films which always just fall short of expectation but you love them anyway. Every single time [full review].
No, now look I'm sorry ...
Film In a summer of bloated blockbusters and hardly enticing torture horrors, I haven't been to the cinema much, preferring instead to catch up on all the films I missed in the first seventy-five years of cinema history when I hadn't been born yet. What thirties films lacked in budget they made up for with invention, tight scripts with incisive characterisation.
Largely my abstinance has been critic and word of mouth led with the new Pirates and Spiderman films apparently being particularly avoidable. By rights, I should have missed out Ocean's Thirteen too, but having been the only person who seemed to think Ocean's Twelve a work of genius (outside of the people who made it) I couldn't pass up the chance to fly against the critical tide again.
Ocean's Twelve was roundly regected by critics but the reception for this has been pretty mixed, ranging from Mark Kermode's rant and Peter Bradshaw's one star lambasting in The Guardian to Empire Magazine's four stars. Director Steven Soderbergh's has generally endured this reception of late with writers generally focusing on what a work is not rather than what he's delivered.
Which is a shame because once again, this is an amazing film, ambitious in its narrative, experimental in its use of character, visually and sonically a feast. It's disappointing that even when Soderbergh has succeeded in producing a work of purposeful entertainment and artistic brilliance there's still almost being treated like the hack he certainly isn't.
It's not entirely above reproach. The storyline, another casino heist, does not have the emotional punch of the first and to a degree second films. In addition, anyone paying attention could work out what twists there are in the climax. Although the entire crew is back minus the ladies, not everyone has that much to do with Bernie Mac in particular being particularly hard done by. Now and then it seems just a little bit too pleased with itself, but that smacks of confidence more than anything else.
These do however seem to be effects of parring the story and the requirements of the narrative down to their most basic parts. The film is about the heist and the mechanics of the operation, the opening act of the second film stretched over a couple of hours. It's comedy drama then in its purest form, grabbing the funny where ever possible. It's also clear that Soderbergh and writers Brian Koppelman & David Levien want the audience to be in on those mechanics so that they can feel included rather than excluded from the team.
That means that unlike other sequels which get bogged down in giving everyone their own subplot to keep the stars happy, its able to keep the focus on the goal. In fact, it's quite refreshing to once again see these actors, who've carried films themselves, just popping in for little more than a cameo in order to facilitate a gag. What's wrong with having something that amounts to the Record Breaker's Christmas Special were Roy Castle would be joined by a galaxy of stars during the festive period?
It's one of the first films in years not to waste Al Paccino's devlish personality and here he's in full shit-eating hoo-ahh mode as the villianous casino manager whose at the centre of the trouble. It's equally refreshing to see someone like Ellen Barkin playing this kind of comedy role again. The criticisms were basically in the order of 'How could you treat this older actress in this way, putting her in the sad position of being seduced by this young buck' failing to note how sexy she is and that actually lesser films would have cast a much younger actress in the role.
The young buck by the way is Matt Damon, who I think has finally gotten over the pasting he recieved in Team America: World Police -- in other words I don't have their way of saying his name flashing into my head every time I see him on screen anymore. Everyone in the cast is a natural comedian though, with the double acts of Scott Carn and Casey Affleck, Shaobo Qin and Damon and George Clooney and Brad Pitt all making welcome returns. The latter is perhaps the funniest, time and again the mirth developing from what isn't being said and a mere weary look or tired gesture stealing the show.
Their scenes together are just a couple of the array of very funny moments that litter the film and which, crucially unlike many sequels aren't contingent on you having seen the other two. There are character moments sure with will resonante if you know who they're talking about and why (there are still some hollywood in-jokes which will only work amongst the really clued up amongst us) but in the main the funny is brought without prior knowledge and it's the first time I've laughed out loud at the cinema in ages.
Some complained that in the second film the main gang weren't together nearly enough, blown across the four corners of Europe with the structure of the story being dictated by the scheduling of the cast. If that was still the problem here, it's largely been solved and there's certainly more of a sense of the family again, probably helped by everything taking place in Vegas. Some of my favourite scenes in Twelve were when the cast were in a hotel room or whatever generally improvising with the camera trying to pick up what it can. There's less of that here, with Ocean's team collected across the widescreen in tableau.
In fact, wasn't prepared for how well photographed the piece is, Soderbergh (who operates the camera himself) using a range of pallets, some of which recall the opening film all reds and browns through to other works -- there's even the odd shot which could have dropped in from his low budget experiment Bubble. One amazing shot which pans across a casino floor zooming in and focusing on the faces of each of the team in turn as they communicate to each other with an adjustment of their glasses. There's no doubt that the director is an auteur, all of his films sharing a distinctive look and feel.
The film is also bathed in more of series regular David Holmes music. There's also a pleasing return to the old Hollywood style montage sequences that mix text and images to communicate story points and the passage of time, accompanied by Holmes mix of jazz and blues music. There are moments when the characters return locations from the first film and Holmes quietly underscores the scene with a subtler version of music from Ocean's Eleven, in one scene in particularly almost suggesting a nostalgia for a time when it was easier to see the goal and (without givin too much away) when you knew who your enemies were.
The oddest of the criticism was unsurprisingly from the usually right Mark Kermode who when he wasn't ranting on about the appearance of Julian Sands (who isn't that bad here) took up against the film for being set and about Vegas which he didn't have very many nice things to say about. Whilst its true that this is a pretty good tourist recruitment film for the area, how could this film exist without perpetuating that fantasy? If I was something akin to social realism I'll dodge through a copy of Leaving Las Vegas or Casino(?) or Showgirls(!?!). Some of the most impressive shots are from the sky as we see the new imaginary casino photorealistically inserted into the real Vegas.
The presence of Sands though does indicate one of the more unusual elements of the film, its Britishness. As well as Eddie Izzard there's a startling appearance from Olga Sosnovska who fans of the BBC series Spooks will know as Fiona Carter and is utterly luminous in her small role. Some of the film looks to have been shot in London (and real London not the version that appears in Lost) and there are some unexpected reference to UK pop culture which you can't imagine anyone in the US audience (or anyone else) would get. Perhaps it's as an apology for Don Cheadle's accent which is noticably less mockney this time out but still doesn't sound quite right. Frankly, I'm amazed that his character Basher wasn't outed as being really American, the sound of his voice being an affectation. In Ocean's Fourteen maybe.
Since this has done great business at the box office despite the critics I can't imagine a fourth film hasn't been discussed. Whether the formula can stretch to another installment I'm not sure -- apart from anything else, would all of the cast return? If I had one small criticism, with the exception of Barkin and Sosnovska the film lacked a feminine touch and it would be great to see Roberts and Zeta Jones back next time in bigger roles. There was also an even greater reliance on technology too and perhaps next time the gang could be placed in a position where they have to work completely on their wits to succeed. It'd have to be against a different landscape though. How about Shanghai?
Largely my abstinance has been critic and word of mouth led with the new Pirates and Spiderman films apparently being particularly avoidable. By rights, I should have missed out Ocean's Thirteen too, but having been the only person who seemed to think Ocean's Twelve a work of genius (outside of the people who made it) I couldn't pass up the chance to fly against the critical tide again.
Ocean's Twelve was roundly regected by critics but the reception for this has been pretty mixed, ranging from Mark Kermode's rant and Peter Bradshaw's one star lambasting in The Guardian to Empire Magazine's four stars. Director Steven Soderbergh's has generally endured this reception of late with writers generally focusing on what a work is not rather than what he's delivered.
Which is a shame because once again, this is an amazing film, ambitious in its narrative, experimental in its use of character, visually and sonically a feast. It's disappointing that even when Soderbergh has succeeded in producing a work of purposeful entertainment and artistic brilliance there's still almost being treated like the hack he certainly isn't.
It's not entirely above reproach. The storyline, another casino heist, does not have the emotional punch of the first and to a degree second films. In addition, anyone paying attention could work out what twists there are in the climax. Although the entire crew is back minus the ladies, not everyone has that much to do with Bernie Mac in particular being particularly hard done by. Now and then it seems just a little bit too pleased with itself, but that smacks of confidence more than anything else.
These do however seem to be effects of parring the story and the requirements of the narrative down to their most basic parts. The film is about the heist and the mechanics of the operation, the opening act of the second film stretched over a couple of hours. It's comedy drama then in its purest form, grabbing the funny where ever possible. It's also clear that Soderbergh and writers Brian Koppelman & David Levien want the audience to be in on those mechanics so that they can feel included rather than excluded from the team.
That means that unlike other sequels which get bogged down in giving everyone their own subplot to keep the stars happy, its able to keep the focus on the goal. In fact, it's quite refreshing to once again see these actors, who've carried films themselves, just popping in for little more than a cameo in order to facilitate a gag. What's wrong with having something that amounts to the Record Breaker's Christmas Special were Roy Castle would be joined by a galaxy of stars during the festive period?
It's one of the first films in years not to waste Al Paccino's devlish personality and here he's in full shit-eating hoo-ahh mode as the villianous casino manager whose at the centre of the trouble. It's equally refreshing to see someone like Ellen Barkin playing this kind of comedy role again. The criticisms were basically in the order of 'How could you treat this older actress in this way, putting her in the sad position of being seduced by this young buck' failing to note how sexy she is and that actually lesser films would have cast a much younger actress in the role.
The young buck by the way is Matt Damon, who I think has finally gotten over the pasting he recieved in Team America: World Police -- in other words I don't have their way of saying his name flashing into my head every time I see him on screen anymore. Everyone in the cast is a natural comedian though, with the double acts of Scott Carn and Casey Affleck, Shaobo Qin and Damon and George Clooney and Brad Pitt all making welcome returns. The latter is perhaps the funniest, time and again the mirth developing from what isn't being said and a mere weary look or tired gesture stealing the show.
Their scenes together are just a couple of the array of very funny moments that litter the film and which, crucially unlike many sequels aren't contingent on you having seen the other two. There are character moments sure with will resonante if you know who they're talking about and why (there are still some hollywood in-jokes which will only work amongst the really clued up amongst us) but in the main the funny is brought without prior knowledge and it's the first time I've laughed out loud at the cinema in ages.
Some complained that in the second film the main gang weren't together nearly enough, blown across the four corners of Europe with the structure of the story being dictated by the scheduling of the cast. If that was still the problem here, it's largely been solved and there's certainly more of a sense of the family again, probably helped by everything taking place in Vegas. Some of my favourite scenes in Twelve were when the cast were in a hotel room or whatever generally improvising with the camera trying to pick up what it can. There's less of that here, with Ocean's team collected across the widescreen in tableau.
In fact, wasn't prepared for how well photographed the piece is, Soderbergh (who operates the camera himself) using a range of pallets, some of which recall the opening film all reds and browns through to other works -- there's even the odd shot which could have dropped in from his low budget experiment Bubble. One amazing shot which pans across a casino floor zooming in and focusing on the faces of each of the team in turn as they communicate to each other with an adjustment of their glasses. There's no doubt that the director is an auteur, all of his films sharing a distinctive look and feel.
The film is also bathed in more of series regular David Holmes music. There's also a pleasing return to the old Hollywood style montage sequences that mix text and images to communicate story points and the passage of time, accompanied by Holmes mix of jazz and blues music. There are moments when the characters return locations from the first film and Holmes quietly underscores the scene with a subtler version of music from Ocean's Eleven, in one scene in particularly almost suggesting a nostalgia for a time when it was easier to see the goal and (without givin too much away) when you knew who your enemies were.
The oddest of the criticism was unsurprisingly from the usually right Mark Kermode who when he wasn't ranting on about the appearance of Julian Sands (who isn't that bad here) took up against the film for being set and about Vegas which he didn't have very many nice things to say about. Whilst its true that this is a pretty good tourist recruitment film for the area, how could this film exist without perpetuating that fantasy? If I was something akin to social realism I'll dodge through a copy of Leaving Las Vegas or Casino(?) or Showgirls(!?!). Some of the most impressive shots are from the sky as we see the new imaginary casino photorealistically inserted into the real Vegas.
The presence of Sands though does indicate one of the more unusual elements of the film, its Britishness. As well as Eddie Izzard there's a startling appearance from Olga Sosnovska who fans of the BBC series Spooks will know as Fiona Carter and is utterly luminous in her small role. Some of the film looks to have been shot in London (and real London not the version that appears in Lost) and there are some unexpected reference to UK pop culture which you can't imagine anyone in the US audience (or anyone else) would get. Perhaps it's as an apology for Don Cheadle's accent which is noticably less mockney this time out but still doesn't sound quite right. Frankly, I'm amazed that his character Basher wasn't outed as being really American, the sound of his voice being an affectation. In Ocean's Fourteen maybe.
Since this has done great business at the box office despite the critics I can't imagine a fourth film hasn't been discussed. Whether the formula can stretch to another installment I'm not sure -- apart from anything else, would all of the cast return? If I had one small criticism, with the exception of Barkin and Sosnovska the film lacked a feminine touch and it would be great to see Roberts and Zeta Jones back next time in bigger roles. There was also an even greater reliance on technology too and perhaps next time the gang could be placed in a position where they have to work completely on their wits to succeed. It'd have to be against a different landscape though. How about Shanghai?
'Who died and made you Danny Ocean?'
Film There are certain times at the cinema when it slowly becomes clear that you're the only person who is loving the film. I wierd chemistry occurs in which your enjoyment of the evening is diametrically opposed to everyone elses. And so it was tonight during Ocean's Twelve. It really isn't the film anyone was expecting, but that actually means is so much better. If you're a fan of the first film becuase of all the heist hijinks you'll probably hate this. If you're a fan of Steven Soderbergh and seen all of his films, you'll just love it.
I don't want to talk about the plot here because frankly you wouldn't believe me. Just when you think the film is going to settle down into some kind of recognisable rhythm, something entirely unexpected is thrown in turning everything on it's head. You know the moment at the end of the first film when everything you thought you saw turned out to be something different? Pretty much every scene here is like that. Which is probably were I and nearly all the mean spirited reviews I've read part company. The general feeling seems to be that the plot was thrown together and the story lacks structure. Well yes that's the point. Soderbergh's messing about with what you're allowed to do in a so-called typical Hollywood sequel. It's experimental rather than erratic.
I'll admit to a degree that is a greatest hits of Soderbergh's greatest hits, with a variety of film stock and messy camera angles on display. Flashbacks are in full evidence as are the freeze frames and captions in multiple fonts. But so what? Would it have been better if some hack had been hired to trot out a clone of the first film, clinically perfect without any passion? He should be applauded for not making the same movie again, opting instead for something which resembles his own Full Frontal, with obscure film in-jokes intact. Go with an open mind and a clear heart.
I don't want to talk about the plot here because frankly you wouldn't believe me. Just when you think the film is going to settle down into some kind of recognisable rhythm, something entirely unexpected is thrown in turning everything on it's head. You know the moment at the end of the first film when everything you thought you saw turned out to be something different? Pretty much every scene here is like that. Which is probably were I and nearly all the mean spirited reviews I've read part company. The general feeling seems to be that the plot was thrown together and the story lacks structure. Well yes that's the point. Soderbergh's messing about with what you're allowed to do in a so-called typical Hollywood sequel. It's experimental rather than erratic.
I'll admit to a degree that is a greatest hits of Soderbergh's greatest hits, with a variety of film stock and messy camera angles on display. Flashbacks are in full evidence as are the freeze frames and captions in multiple fonts. But so what? Would it have been better if some hack had been hired to trot out a clone of the first film, clinically perfect without any passion? He should be applauded for not making the same movie again, opting instead for something which resembles his own Full Frontal, with obscure film in-jokes intact. Go with an open mind and a clear heart.
The Rub
Life This is something I've been meaning to write for some weeks but a new post from Robyn has sort of given me a reason to get around to it. Aaah. Hmmm. Well. There are certain subjects I don't cover on the weblog which aren't in the The Rules but which for some reason I just never mention. I've never been sure why. Some of it is to do with the readership, which I think generally tips towards the feminine, but otherwise because I'm not sure if it's the done thing. I think the writing here has a tone and I don't want to lower that tone. But since I want to respond to Robyn I feel the need to go there, so here we are. The taboos for no reason list:
(1) Swearing. I always think long and hard about bad language on here. I only ever include the 'f' word if its entirely necessary, as in part of a quote or emphasise a point for a certain effect. Otherwise its gratuitous and I hope I'm cleverer than that.
(2) The Weather. Even when I'm at my most desperate for subject matter I don't talk about clouds. For one thing I also have an international readership so if I talk about how cold it is outside, someone in Melbourne (for example) is looking out at the sun. I have talked about the rain if it leads onto something else, or I'm again making a point. But what's the point in small talking?
(3) Kvetch. I don't make it a habit to bitch and moan about things. We all the know the world doesn't work to some degree but letting off steam online in something like this isn't going to help anyone. Again unless its about something usually my own inadequacies (see a few paragraphs down from here). And finally ...
(4) Girls. For some reason this never happens here. Well not never. There was a something a few weeks ago about Nicole Kidman on movie posters but apart from that I don't tend to write about this or that girl or whatever. And here the rub. It doesn't appear to be something other webloggers in what you could call my sub-genre have an issue with. Most of my regular reads mention the opposite sex on a regular basis, sometimes with clean pictures. And you know what it is?
So the line is drawn here. I'm relaxing, taking a few breaths and breaking a few taboos. Not about the swearing or the weather. But. I kvetched a lot last night about the horrible signage in Cardiff and it felt great to get that off my chest. Next step. I'm going to do three things.
(1) Here is number 42 in my 100 things about me ...
(2) I've been in love many times. Some have got married, some I don't know what happened to them, some are other stories for other times. My Julie Delpy, the girl I fell in love with on a train was called Andrea (I think). Much like Jessie in Before Sunset I've written about her on this weblog. That post is here. Unlike Jessie I didn't talk about how I really felt. This was one of the few occasion were in the about fifty minutes of the train journey I met someone who I could utterly communicate with and simply wanted to know for the rest of my life. She talked about the problems she was having in her own family with her own relatives and as you can see it made me think about my own situation (the post is fairly self-contained anyway). It all got pretty intense to be honest and whether it was because I was there being some random who she could confide or something else I'll never know. But I can still see her in the back of my mind now, the English Rose with the long dark blonde hair, home knitted cardigan and water bottle. I wanted to write all that back then but something stopped me, so here it is now. There have been other occasions when I've wanted to embelish, but I've picked that example fairly randomly. To finish the story, I actually bumped into her again in Manchester the following Christmas outside the town hall. I found out she hadn't ended up moving to Liverpool at all but somewhere else away from everything. But we swapped telephone numbers. And I rang her but it felt wrong. It didn't fit anymore. As someone said on a tv drama this week, the timing was wrong.
(3) And back to this. Who my Movie Girlfriends are/were ...
- Laura Fraser
- Gwyneth Paltrow
- Minnie Driver
- Parminder Nagra
- Alyson Hannigan
- Kate Winslet
- Elizabeth Shue (in Adventures In Babysitting)
- Franke Potente
- Julie Christie
- Kate Nelligan (in BBC Shakespeare's Measure for Measure)
[Plus there are the givens, Julia Roberts, Carrie Fisher and Meg Ryan. But surely everyone'd pick those?]
See that wasn't too difficult. And now relax. Please feel free to link with the phrase 'Stuart comes to terms with his sexuality (thank goodness)'
(1) Swearing. I always think long and hard about bad language on here. I only ever include the 'f' word if its entirely necessary, as in part of a quote or emphasise a point for a certain effect. Otherwise its gratuitous and I hope I'm cleverer than that.
(2) The Weather. Even when I'm at my most desperate for subject matter I don't talk about clouds. For one thing I also have an international readership so if I talk about how cold it is outside, someone in Melbourne (for example) is looking out at the sun. I have talked about the rain if it leads onto something else, or I'm again making a point. But what's the point in small talking?
(3) Kvetch. I don't make it a habit to bitch and moan about things. We all the know the world doesn't work to some degree but letting off steam online in something like this isn't going to help anyone. Again unless its about something usually my own inadequacies (see a few paragraphs down from here). And finally ...
(4) Girls. For some reason this never happens here. Well not never. There was a something a few weeks ago about Nicole Kidman on movie posters but apart from that I don't tend to write about this or that girl or whatever. And here the rub. It doesn't appear to be something other webloggers in what you could call my sub-genre have an issue with. Most of my regular reads mention the opposite sex on a regular basis, sometimes with clean pictures. And you know what it is?
(a) Blackeyes Dennis Potter's tv series Blackeyes. From many years ago. I was very young when I saw it (not my parents fault) and I have only a few memories, but most of them seemed to be of the man saying some not very nice things about women.I just don't want to find myself being in the position of fulfilling my promise as a hormonal testosterone fuelled alpha-male hell bent on the objectification of women, at least not on the weblog. I have an idea of myself and how I want to project that idea and I want that to be fairly/very feminist. So I feel like if I decide to write about some girl I saw working somewhere or met somewhere else and through into the mix all the reasons I like her that it would be wrong in someway -- a step too far. Which is silly. Really. I have those feelings. I communicate those feelings to friends in the real space so why not share them with my friends in cyberspace?
(b) I'm 19 years old and at my Student Hall formal. For various reasons its not been a very good night (I'll write the whole story some time) and I'm hiding in a toilet cubicle pretending just so that I can get away from an increasingly bad situation. As I sit there looking at the deep blue door I hear two people come in and use the urinal. One is talking about his girlfriend, the other someone he's been chatting up. At no stage during their conversation do they mention the girl's names. Instead we have 'the woman', 'blonde #1', 'blonde #2', 'her' and some bits and pieces which I won't bore you with.
So the line is drawn here. I'm relaxing, taking a few breaths and breaking a few taboos. Not about the swearing or the weather. But. I kvetched a lot last night about the horrible signage in Cardiff and it felt great to get that off my chest. Next step. I'm going to do three things.
(1) Here is number 42 in my 100 things about me ...
"someone with a personality. not a sheep, someone who speaks her mind. unpredictable but rational. willing to go out on a limb, be spontaneous, but responsible. someone interested in the world, who like me wants to discover the possibilites and how everything works. someone funny without being purile, spritual without banging on about religion all the time. who doesn't mind making an idiot of themselves if the outcome is pure."I've always let that hang there. I wrote it during a webchat with someone and as it scrolled up the page I was amazed at how I'd captured things. And also how it doesn't mention appearance.
(2) I've been in love many times. Some have got married, some I don't know what happened to them, some are other stories for other times. My Julie Delpy, the girl I fell in love with on a train was called Andrea (I think). Much like Jessie in Before Sunset I've written about her on this weblog. That post is here. Unlike Jessie I didn't talk about how I really felt. This was one of the few occasion were in the about fifty minutes of the train journey I met someone who I could utterly communicate with and simply wanted to know for the rest of my life. She talked about the problems she was having in her own family with her own relatives and as you can see it made me think about my own situation (the post is fairly self-contained anyway). It all got pretty intense to be honest and whether it was because I was there being some random who she could confide or something else I'll never know. But I can still see her in the back of my mind now, the English Rose with the long dark blonde hair, home knitted cardigan and water bottle. I wanted to write all that back then but something stopped me, so here it is now. There have been other occasions when I've wanted to embelish, but I've picked that example fairly randomly. To finish the story, I actually bumped into her again in Manchester the following Christmas outside the town hall. I found out she hadn't ended up moving to Liverpool at all but somewhere else away from everything. But we swapped telephone numbers. And I rang her but it felt wrong. It didn't fit anymore. As someone said on a tv drama this week, the timing was wrong.
(3) And back to this. Who my Movie Girlfriends are/were ...
- Laura Fraser
- Gwyneth Paltrow
- Minnie Driver
- Parminder Nagra
- Alyson Hannigan
- Kate Winslet
- Elizabeth Shue (in Adventures In Babysitting)
- Franke Potente
- Julie Christie
- Kate Nelligan (in BBC Shakespeare's Measure for Measure)
[Plus there are the givens, Julia Roberts, Carrie Fisher and Meg Ryan. But surely everyone'd pick those?]
See that wasn't too difficult. And now relax. Please feel free to link with the phrase 'Stuart comes to terms with his sexuality (thank goodness)'
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