Wes does Grand Budapest, a movie, a madness, a mess? yes and well worth it...
So the film drought has ended and we've emerged, blinking and shaking into the watery spring sunshine, we've stretched, yawned, scratched ourselves and shuffled off to the cinema.
I'm sure you're agog to hear what lured us from our movie hibernation.
Now then O best beloveds, there are movies we (Mrs Stuffy and I) view because we've read a great review, there are some movies that friends are keen to see so we go along from a sense of kinship and fellow-feeling. There are movies that one or other of us are obligated to attend simply for the sake of continuity (why else would one keep indulging the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise?) and there are a few actors and directors who rarely let us down, (there are no bad films with Ed Harris in for example) And there are films that fall into the "we haven't been to the movies in ages and that's the least bad choice" box.
So, guess which category The Grand Budapest Hotel fell into?
Well you're wrong, we like Wes Anderson, we don't necessary understand him, but we like what he does when he's near a camera, I love the stop-motion weirdness of Fantastic Mr Fox, the seemingly un-related and irrelevant bits, I have no idea what was going on in The Darjeeling but it made me care, even if I didn't understand it. We really liked Moonrise Kingdom, the serious kids, the childlike adults, the extraordinary beauty of the filming, the stillness, the frenzy, the retro colours, costumes and scenery, the inexplicable sudden appearance of a narrator, the self-indulgence of the director and (as in all his films) the cast list of assorted stellar mainstream acting talent mixed with the young, fresh, naif, newbies.
I was going to mention that this is an odd offering but it's evident that's to be expected. This film defies pigeonholing, it's a recounting, in flashback, of the extraordinary life of a concierge in an unreal Europe, on the verge of an unreal world war, with unreal totalitarianism raising its ugly head, I'm not sure what, if any, political points are being made.
It's a tale worth telling for whatever reason. It's the visualisation I really love in his films, the way Anderson mixes live-action, broad surreal shots and panoramas with so much detail, so much happening in them, the occasional model, not trying to convince that it's real, it's patently a model but it's charming nonetheless. This movie made me smile throughout and occasionally chuckle, it demanded constant attention, many, small subtle things happen, there's no telling what is or is not significant.
The appearance of a big-name movie star may be hugely significant or a throw-away cameo. There's no telling what might be a red herring and I've come to expect no clear outcome, resolution or meaningful message. It seems to me that Wes Anderson makes very attractive, clever films to amuse and surprise and that's just what they do. Is this a self-indulgent movie? Probably but it's also an indulgent film and I really did enjoy being indulged.
Did you miss the Haikus?
Pastel retro tale
Anderson does not fail to
muse, bemuse, amuse
Labels: blog from the barn, Bruce Willis, cinema, critic, Ed Harris, films, Grand Budapest Hotel, haiku, Harvey Keitel, Moonrise Kingdom, movie review, Mrs Stuffy, Oakwood, Ralph Fiennes, Stuffy, Wes Anderson
Movie Review - Real Steel
Movie Review - Real Steel
Here's a confession, I really don't like boxing films, actually, I really don't like boxing, I've never seen a Rocky, not 1,not 2, not 3,you get the idea, I've never managed to get through Raging Bull and Fight Club is a mystery to me. I did manage to make it through Million Dollar Baby and deeply regretted it, it was a great film but I really don't like boxing.
The obvious question is why? I have no aversion to violence, cinematic or real, I enjoy the occasional martial arts movies and had no problem learning aikido and karate as a young man, I suspect it's not the fighting per se, I'm a fan of violence as a quick way to resolve arguments and unlike dialogue it avoids the need to look interested in the other party's point of view. I'm deeply impressed by the fitness needed for the sport of kings (how many kings were boxers?) but I don't like the percussive, keep-slugging-away element. That discomfort, not mine, more generally, the whole hitting another human in the face thing, is the back story to Real Steel where remote controlled robots beat seven bells out of each other for the vicarious pleasure of the screaming hordes.
Hugh Jackman plays a trainer/operator of fighting robots, a one-time boxer himself, a multiple loser, who "could have been a contender" but has made a series of bad decisions.
He's introduced early through a series of cliches, all signposting the imminent arrival of standard movie plot line number four... to whit, down at heel one-time shining hope is retrieved from a tragic downward spiral by either 'a winningly cute and trusting kid' or a 'despite herself ever-loving lady' (both in this one) and he ends the film as the redeemed hero we all secretly want him to be.
So, it's a predictable, schmaltzy redemption tale with cgi boxing robots, heavily troweled-on moral and ethical issues, stereotypical nasties and equally stereotypical goodies. Surprise! I really enjoyed it, despite everything I've just said this is a really likeable movie, the acting is great, the music works a treat, the cast seem to be having fun, the effects (which make the film) are genuinely excellent, believable, well thought-through, seamlessly integrated and visually stunning.
It is very, very, very rare for me to laugh at a film and this was no exception but I did catch myself smiling with genuine pleasure and Her LadyStuffyness not only stayed awake and attentive throughout but joined me in finding this a really enjoyable movie. It's fun, it's not heavy, it's impressive, you care about the people, heck you even care about the robot. It's a great night out.
I still don't like boxing though.
A haiku for the ring
Box clever, box wise
Beware, beseeching eyes that
Melt a heart of steel
.
.
Labels: blogfromthebarn, critic, films, haiku, hugh jackman, movie review, Oakwood, real steel, robot, Stuffy
Movie review - Midnight in Paris
Movie review - Midnight in Paris
I've mentioned my admiration for the works of Mr Woody Allen before, and despite his somewhat repellant views on step-parental care I stand by that judgement. In a rare moment of solidarity the very lovely Mrs Stuffy counts his delightful Vicky Christina Barcelona as one of her favourite films of all time. Mrs S is particularly fond of the way he portrays a place in such a way that even cities one knows well are presented in a very natural but effortlessly romantic and attractive way. I adore his wordplay but I'm also with her on the scenery thing, one of my abiding movie memories is the Gershwin sound track that accompanied the opening monochrome views of his Manhattan.
In many ways, Paris is one of the stars of this movie, presented lovingly by Allen in an opening montage of beguiling images and then throughout the film and the years in such an idealised and alluring way that it had me planning to move there within minutes.
Following the travelogue opening, the arrival of the actors is compromised somewhat by the unnerving realisation that Owen Wilson is actually playing his part 'in the style of Woody Allen" close your eyes and you could be listening to a slightly more laid back but no less nasal and staccato version of a young Mr Allen. It very quickly starts to feel natural and works surprisingly well with Wilson's diffident charm.
His gentle style and the well-crafted unlikeability of every other American character makes Owen Wilson a sympathetic and attractive lead player and there seems to be a subtlety in his performance not evident in previous outings with such great film presences as Jennifer Aniston, Jackie Chan and Ben Stiller, he obviously needed a quality story and quality direction to shine.
(the previous statement may be found to contain traces of sarcasm)
The essence of the story is his nightly transition, (which is very nicely handled) from the Paris of today to the 1920's version populated by Stein, Hemingway, Dali and Picasso, not to mention the lovely (
apparently, she does nothing for me I'm afraid) Marion Cottillard as passing muse to most of the artists of the time. It's a lovely tale and well managed and I'm sure I picked up very few of the artistic and literate in-jokes that peppered the dialogue. It may be that this is a film which rewards a second viewing with easy access to Wikipedia.
I found little to dislike in this movie, and much to enjoy, it is beautifully shot, cleverly written and, in these troubled times a very welcome 'happy movie', For me this is a proud addition to Woody's portfolio and pleased me on many levels, if you're an Allen fan, a Francophile, a supporter of intelligent cinema or you just fancy a quality, pleasant movie experience you will, like Mrs Stuffy and I, come out having a conversation, an animated conversation, an enthusiastic, engaged animated conversation rather than,as with so many films, "did you enjoy that?" followed by "s'all right".
A Parisian haiku (with apologies to my many francophone chums, and an anticipation of at least three corrections)
L'ecriveur pensant
Cherches le siècle d'or
Mais, c'est maintenant,
Labels: blog from the barn, films, french, haiku, marion cotillard, midnight in Paris, movie review, Oakwood, Owen wilson, Paris, Stuffy, Woody Allen
