View From The Cheap Seats 12.07.02: As The Lights Fade
Posted by Rich Wilson on 12.07.2002
Right at the beginning, let's set the record straight...
Welcome to a new weekly column where anything goes. From the multi-million blockbuster to the lowliest grindhouse sleazeflick, nothing is outlawed at the cheap seats. I’ll be hitting you with thoughts and opinions, recommendations and warnings, and letting you know about movies that you might not find on the dusty shelves of the local Blockbuster but are nonetheless worth the time and effort to seek out. I’d like to make this an interactive column, and if you want to let me have your crazed rantings, tell me about a flick that the rest of us need to see or simply give me some decent abuse then e-mail’s are welcomed. Tell me, and I’ll spread the word.
Just let me watch the movie
See, I’m a film geek. There are very few things in this world that I’m truly passionate about; Wrestling, Rock Guitars, Chinese Food and Natalie Portman. Top of the list comes cinema, and I’ve been a celluloid junkie ever since the age of six when my old man took me to our local fleapit to see Star Wars. I can still remember the wonder I felt as that Imperial Star Destroyer cruised overhead, and the fear that followed minutes later as Vader appeared out of the smoke for the first time. Like millions of other kids of my generation I was hooked, and I knew that the feeling Uncle George Lucas left me with as the credits rolled was something I wanted to experience for the rest of my life.
And there have been a lot of good times since. From Close Encounters and Raiders Of The Lost Ark right up to the present with Fight Club and Fellowship Of The Ring, the movies have had the ability to make me totally forget reality and to lose myself in a world of fantasy. Some of my most memorable moments have been spent in the dark...
At least, until this year.
It’s not been the features. I personally believe that 2002 has been a bumper year for pictures, with something decent for everyone from the biggest studios right down to the smallest independents. Of course, there’s been a fair amount of shit flying around as usual, but you need the bad in order to make the good shine just that little bit more brightly. So apart from a few dull moments and one nightmarish incident when I was forced endure a screeching Jennifer Lopez in Enough (a title which echoed my thoughts for ninety minutes), I’ve no grumble with the films. No, my complaint lies with the cinema itself, and more specifically the people who attend.
It seems to me these days that the for the average punter the actual watching of the movie comes way behind the snacks, the soda, the cellphone and the conversation. Don’t get me wrong, I like my popcorn and my Sprite as much as the next guy, but when the lights go down so does my voice. Darkness envelopes me and I want to be at one with whatever I’ve come to see. What I don’t want are the four people in front of me to start whispering at what they believe to be a low volume but in reality is just lower than the decibel level at a Metallica gig. Do me a favour, don’t call your buddy and tell him what a good/bad movie you’re watching; save it until later, because I swear if I see it one more time I’m gonna find myself up on the unusual and possibly unique charge of attempting to insert a Nokia as far as I can down someone’s throat. If I want to talk, I’ll do it in a bar. If I want to eat I’ll go to a restaurant. What I want to do is simple; just enjoy the film. If you’re there for any other reason then find another pastime, preferably one which causes you physical pain. You’re screwing up my fantasy.
Before I lost it totally and burned down my multiplex I took the matter in hand. The talkers wouldn’t change, I’d have to. So throughout this year and with increasing regularity I’ve started going to the movies on my own and during the day. I’d never really attended matinee showings before, having always believed that the cinema was a nocturnal experience. I also used to view those that went alone with a fair degree of scorn, thinking they were the kind of friendless, dateless, jobless folks who were killing time until the sun went down and they could start drinking with less guilt.
Jesus, how wrong was I?
Like you and me, these are the true film geeks. Not only do they have respect for the craft of filmmaking, but they respect those who have chosen to join them in the dark. Give it a go and you’ll see exactly what I’m talking about. First time I tried it I thought I was the only person in the theatre, until my eyes adjusted to the gloom and I started to make out individual heads dotted here and there. The lone geek never sits too close to someone else, knowing the importance of personal space and giving themselves room to enjoy the movie. Sure they eat, but the snacks are silent and the soda doesn’t slurp. I once made the mistake of bringing popcorn and even my mild crunching was met with about as much enthusiasm as weapons inspectors in Iraq. These days I take gum. And then the film starts, and sweet joy, I can hear the soundtrack. No chat, no phone, no sex. Just the digital roar of the Dolby system ringing in my ears and the familiar grin creeping across my face as I settle down for another couple of hours with my favourite waste of time.
These days DVD is bigger than ever, and home entertainment is the fastest growing industry on Earth. Of course it is; who in the hell wants to battle against the masses in the torture that is Friday night at the Multiplex? But I don’t care how big your widescreen Sony or how funky your THX amplifier, nothing matches seeing the movie the way the director intended. So next time you find yourself with a spare afternoon on your hands take a trip to the movies alone. Don’t be afraid, there’s nothing lurking in shadows that’s going to hurt you, just a bunch of like-minded folks who are there for exactly the same reason. Because they love film, just like you.
They’re Behind You...
It’s good to be able to recommend a British film that doesn’t feature Gangsters, Period Drama or Hugh Grant. 28 Days Later is a low budget movie that’s been making some waves over here in the UK, and if named distributor Hollywood Pictures pull their finger out then American audiences should be seeing it anytime now. Trainspotting director Danny Boyle has taken an original screenplay by Alex Garland and come up with a genuinely unsettling and paranoid horror film that differs from many recent projects that have projected themselves under that banner - it’s actually horrifying.
A brief prologue shows an animal rights group unwittingly liberating Chimps that have been infected with ‘The Rage’, a virus so potent that anyone bitten turns into a homicidal, blood-crazed maniac within thirty seconds. We flash forward twenty eight days later as motorcycle courier Jim wakes from his Coma in a London hospital and soon discovers that the entire capital is deserted. Except it’s not, because lurking in the shadows are the zombie-like infected - gangs of superfast ex-humans whose only mission in life is to prowl the streets and feed on untainted flesh. Jim manages to hook up with a small group of survivors, and after hearing a lone emergency radio transmission from a group of soldiers they decide to head north in the hope of finding some safety...
There’s nothing particularly original about the plot; the themes of death and desertion have been well done before - from George Romero’s zombie trilogy through to The Omega Man, and the opening especially brings to mind the classic Day Of The Triffids. However, Boyle takes these familiar elements and moulds them into something particularly powerful. Stripping away any slack, he keeps the pulse racing with an ultra-fast, darkly humorous and shit-your-pants scary movie that pushes all the right buttons. The early scenes of Jim wondering around a London empty of life are utterly mind-blowing, and after the first attack from the ‘infected’ the pace rarely lets up until the shocking, gore drenched climax.
It’s not perfect - Some of the military characters are total clichés, and the final scene appears to be out of place; I’d be willing to bet that it was tacked on at the insistence of the studio, and come the DVD release I wouldn’t be surprised to see an alternative ending included. However, it’s infinitely superior to Boyle and Garland’s last collaboration (The Beach), and by using a cast of virtual unknowns and opting to shoot on Digital Video which gives the whole thing a grainy, almost documentary-like feel he’s created one of the most pleasant surprises of 2002. Especially since when I first head the title I naturally assumed it was a sequel to the godawful Sandra Bullock alcoholic drama 28 Days. How wrong you can be? Catch this one as soon as you can.
The Return of Matilda?
Big rumours flying around the Internet at the moment concerning a possible sequel to the 1994 classic The Professional. Since supercool hitman Leon had his brains blown out at the end of the film the new story which has allegedly been written by original director Luc Besson features a now fully grown Matilda as the killer for hire. Besson’s finalised the script and is ready to start pre-production, but only on the proviso that Natalie Portman returns to the role that shot her to young stardom.
So what are the chances? Slim, verging on none, and sliding into impossible I reckon. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing I would rather see than the gorgeous Miss Portman rocking around New York in a tiny leather skirt wielding a brace of Beretta’s and wiping out lowlifes. But the chances of it happening are about as likely as Spike Dudley winning the WWE Championship. Portman has been quoted on several occasions saying that she believes herself to be a role model for young women, and as such chooses roles which reflect that. As any sequel to The Professional must surely feature a steady dose of violence, foul language and (hopefully) nudity you’d have to think it was the hardly the image she would wish to portray. Also, the chances of her even being able to start the movie until 2005 would be unlikely, with her current commitments to the upcoming Cold Mountain, Head In The Clouds and of course, Episode III.
Besson needs this more than Portman. Apart from executive producing/writing the Taxi movies, which admittedly have been huge hits in Europe, his last world-wide success was The Fifth Element. Anyone who sat through the so-called action of The Transporter will realise how desperate Besson must be to recapture the spark and edge which singled out his earlier work, and a Professional sequel would have an almost guaranteed success due to the interest from fans of the cult original. Could happen, but I wouldn’t hold your breath...
That’s it for now. Start thinking back and let me know your choices for the best and worst films of the last twelve months which I’ll be compiling into a definitive 411 list for the final column of 2002. Next time, with ring fever once more about to grip the planet with The Two Towers, I’ll be taking a look at Peter Jackson’s earlier works. Movies that feature exploding aliens, perverted puppets and the loving dead. Until then, keep repeating: It’s only a movie, only a movie...
