Tag: movies

  • Werckmeister Harmonies: even more relevant today

    Werckmeister Harmonies: even more relevant today

    This was the first in a series of seven Art House Films with my good friend Bill Crandall. It was also – along with The Secret of Kells the one that had the biggest impact on me.

    It was my introduction to Bela Tarr – master of the long shot – and it was definitely a red pill/blue pill moment. Take the red pill if you want to beat brain rot and see the world for what it is through a series of carefully curated films. Take the blue pill if you want to remain in the comfort zone of rehashed Romantic Comedies and doom scrolling.

    I definitely took the red pill. And boy was I glad.

    Side note: if you don’t know what I’m talking about with red pill and blue pill, you need to watch The Matrix.

    What’s it about

    Much like most of Tarr’s work, this takes place in some rural setting in Hungary. It’s a quiet town with a town square and residents milling about, going through the motions without a sense of purpose, waiting for the arrival of a “circus” comprised of a giant stuffed whale and a false prophet that we never actually see.

    On cue, the residents descend into anarchy, destroying a hospital before the most pitiable scene stops the chaos and they all go back to their purposeless lives.

    Open your eyes

    Our main character Jànos, played by Lars Rudolph, is easily distinguishable by his intellect and deep, penetrative gaze. His eyes literally do most of the talking throughout the film. You see curiosity peak at wonder and then descent into disbelief, horror and – ultimately – total despondency as the film unfolds.

    Curiosity as he explains how the solar system works

    Looking the miracle in the eye with a sense of wonder

    Disbelief that they can’t see it, when it’s right in front of them

    Shock and horror at what unfolds

    Total despondency as he’s institutionalised

    We see the world through Jànos’ eyes. He – like the rest of the residents – is intrigued by the circus’ arrival. But unlike the rest of the residents, he’s more captivated by the giant stuffed whale than this so-called prophet who will supposedly perform some kind of miracle.

    He claims that the whale is the true miracle. And he’s most certainly right.

    A creature of such magnificence

    World, can’t you see?

    The miracle you’ve all been waiting for

    Is right in front of thee.

    Inspired by Jànos

    This reminds me of a little anecdote from my own life.

    Growing up in a staunch Hindu household, I was surrounded by people constantly looking for miracles in the sky. And every now and again, a so-called “prophet” would come into town and charge a lucrative amount to perform some kind of miracle.

    Once, I accompanied my Mum to see one of these prophets. There must have been a thousand people stuffed in the community auditorium where the event took place!

    Our rockstar prophet took to the stage. He wasn’t much to look at: scrawny, bald, long beard. But when he raised his hands, the entire auditorium went silent.

    It turned out this man had an active “third eye” and could see into your future. I watched as he invited the ones with VIP passes to read their fate. It was all the usual bollocks: “yes, yes I see great fortune in your future” (man gambled his family fortune away and now lives on the dole in the UK). “Ah, a great romance awaits you” (divorced twice, lives alone in a small town).

    At some point, I noticed a group of ants moving a bread crumb along on the floor. I stopped listening and just watched this incredible display of teamwork. And even though I was too young then to really grasp what was happening, looking back, I must have been like Jànos in that moment.

    Here was a real life miracle happening right in front of my very eyes. A group of tiny creatures somehow being so coordinated as they move that piece of bread from one place to another. Instead, everybody is so focused on watching this “prophet” (wrongly) predict people’s futures.

    My Mum noticed me not paying attention and elbowed me hard in the ribs. Back to the “prophet” it was.

    The truth is, miracles happen right in front of us every single day. They might not be huge or biblical in any way. But they are still reminders that life is beautiful, that if we open our eyes and just take a look around instead of waiting for some great, big cosmic gesture, we might actually see something real.

    To me, that was the essence of the film. Only one man could really see things for what they were. It seems to be a recurring theme in Tarr’s body of work.

    Take Satantango for instance. A small farming commune waiting for a Messiah to lead them to the promise land, when their own lives are falling apart right in front of their eyes.

    Most people are still waiting on that one miracle to bail them out, when the true miracle is in the day to day, how you live your life, whether you choose to open your eyes, or keep them closed.

    Awakening

    Watching Werckmeister Harmonies sparked something in me. Previously, when I had to go pick my son up from school, I’d rush out of the house, zoom down to campus, get him and zoom back. It was perfunctory, without a sense of purpose or even appreciation.

    After the film, I consciously decided to slow things down. Literally and metaphorically. After getting my son, I took a longer, albeit more scenic route back home. I took it down from 70 plus to 40, put on the soundtrack (there are two) from Werckmeister Harmonies, and actually took a moment to see.

    And that’s when I realised there’s so much we take for granted every single day. The two gardeners sharing a mandazi, donut, having tea in chipped mugs and laughing as they lounged on a grassy bank in the Sun. A lady, probably in her seventies, heaving a large basket of provisions to sell as she made her way slowly up the road. A family of monkeys going across the road, overhead on a wire, the baby hanging upside down, clinging on to its mother’s belly.

    By the time I got home, I felt so enriched, so fulfilled, it was as though I’d taken my first breath in a long, long time.

    Cinematic bliss

    The themes and narrative aside, Tarr’s filmmaking prowess lies in the quality of the shot. Each frame feels like a moving black and white photograph and he uses chiaroscuro to really bring out the meaningful elements in every frame.

    It was also the first time that I actually lived in the film. For example when Jànos and the pianist are walking down a road. And they’re just walking and walking and you’re walking with them for four and a half minutes of screen time. Another feature of Bela Tarr’s filmmaking. He lets scenes breathe and as a result, you actually get to breathe as well.

    All in all, Werckmeister Harmonies is more relevant today than ever before. It takes one nudge to storm the Capitol or to unleash racist abuse on the internet targeted at black footballers.

    And when people don’t see, they look to the sky (or their screens) hoping to find an answer, when the answer they’re looking for is actually right in front of them.

  • John Carney: or how I learned to stop worrying and love art

    John Carney: or how I learned to stop worrying and love art

    The first time I consciously became aware of John Carney’s films was in 2016 with his indie hit Sing Street. And then I realised I’d already experienced another of his hits three years prior; Begin Again starring Mark Ruffalo and Keira Knightly. More recently I caught Flora and Son on Apple TV.

    There seems to be a recurring theme across all his films: even in the darkest of times, when all hope seems to be lost, from the pits of despair, art can well and truly save the world.

    Warning: if you haven’t seen any of these films, this post may contain spoilers.

    Just fucking do it

    The last line in Flora and Son literally is “you’re fuckin’ shite” in reference to Flora’s (played by Bono’s daughter, Eve Hewson) open mic performance. And on some level, she probably already knew that it was going to be shite.

    But that didn’t stop her. Teaming up with her talented producer son, she put together a banger that may just have been a little ahead of its time. But it wasn’t the song that had an impact. It was the timing.

    Flora, just like Conor Lawlor in Sing Street, has nothing to live for. She has a crappy relationship with her son, separated from her husband and has to wipe bums (literally) as a child minder for a living.

    Similarly, Conor has been demoted to public school, doesn’t own a pair of black shoes, his parents are getting divorced and, to top it all, he gets on the wrong side of the class bully.

    Both films have two things in common: 1) Jack Reynor and 2) the “victims” turn to art (music) as a way out of their miserable state of affairs.

    And that’s exactly what’s needed now more than ever.

    How art can save lives

    I want to add Greta from Begin Again, played by Keira Knightly, into the mix. Overshadowed by her sexy rockstar boyfriend (I see you Adam Levine), Greta decides to take matters into her own hands and, with the help of a burned-out record executive, Dan (pre-hulk Mark Ruffalo), she finds her voice, her confidence and grit to step out of her ex-boyfriend’s shadow. Only thing missing in Begin Again is Jack Reynor.

    The three instances I’ve highlighted are a reflection of what happens every single day. Somewhere, somehow, there’s a person sitting on the next great American novel, a killer musical composition or even a screenplay waiting to be green lit by Hollywood’s finest.

    But most people don’t… act. They sit in fear of being judged and allow the passages of time to wash their creativity away, until one day they wake up on their death beds and realise their entire life has been pointless.

    So if you have a gift, whether that’s painting, writing, music or something else, wake up. Wake the fuck up.

    The world needs you and your art. And it needs it now.

    How Bill Crandall and Film Club saved my life

    I once aspired to be a novelist. In my twenties, I actually spent one summer writing day and night and came up with a couple of half-decent manuscripts.

    A few years after that I took a sabbatical to focus on two more novels, both of which I managed to complete and circulate to literary agents for representation.

    And then COVID hit, the publishing industry was turned upside down and I didn’t hear back from any of the agents who had requested my manuscripts.

    I lost hope. I turned to other endeavours as a way out (mainly becoming a copywriting hack) and told myself that it’s okay. That the world didn’t need me or my art. That I would do just fine without it.

    And then a few weeks back I met Bill Crandall at a party. We started talking about films and by the end of the night, agreed to meet up once a week for a showing at his house. There’s a separate post dedicated to this experience here.

    What I wanted to say was that through a series of art house films – and Bill’s encouragement – my wobbling hand finally picked the pen up again. I started this blog, blew the dust off my shelved novels and just started flexing my previously atrophied creative muscles again. And let me tell you: it feels fucking good.

    It doesn’t matter if it’s “good” or not

    Coming back to that last line in Flora and Son, (“you’re fuckin’ shite”) one thing I’ve learned is that it doesn’t matter what somebody else thinks about your art. If you enjoy doing it, like really enjoy, everything else will fall into place.

    Another scene that perfectly captures this sentiment is in Sing Street when Conor stands up to the bully and says, “you only have the power to stop things, but not to create” and that shit hits hard.

    Destructive forces are at hand. We have “AI creators” now and Elon Musk thinks Grok can make a better version of Nolan’s Odyssey (as if). It’s up to us now to take a stand.

    Let John Carney’s characters do the talking

    For when you fear being mocked:

    “Rock and roll is a risk. You risk being ridiculed” – Brendan to his brother, Conor

    For when you think you need to know how to do everything 100% right:

    “Did the Sex Pistols know how to play? You don’t need to know how to play. Who are you, Steely Dan? You need to learn how NOT to play, Conor. That’s the trick. That’s rock and roll. And THAT… takes practice.” Brendan again.

    If you feel like life is “meh”:

    “One of the most banal scenes is suddenly invested with so much meaning! All these banalities – They’re suddenly turned into these… these beautiful, effervescent pearls. From Music.” – Dan (Mark Ruffalo) in Begin Again

    And then this exchange between Dan and Greta in Begin Again perfectly captures the quintessence of John Carney and how art can change lives:

    Dave: But we’re just gonna have to find a way to get through this, get through this together.

    Greta: When did you, like, when did you realize that?

    Dave: When you sang to me on my voice mail. I realized that nobody on Earth in their right mind would ever do anything remotely like that, and… that killed me. That crushed me. You… completely won me over.

    Greta: You know, I wasn’t actually trying to win you over. I was trying to tell you to fuck off.

    Bottom line

    Here it is: tune up that guitar, fill up that pen, dust off that typewriter, and then – immerse. Immerse. Immerse. If not for you then for the world.

    <Odyssey

  • What I really thought about Nolan’s “The Odyssey” (contains spoilers)

    What I really thought about Nolan’s “The Odyssey” (contains spoilers)

    This film has become more divisive than it needs to be. You’ve got the “I hate it” camp. The “greatest film of all time” camp. And the “meh” camp. I definitely didn’t hate it. I didn’t find it “meh” at all.

    As for “greatest film of all time?” that changes pretty much week on week for me.

    What’s it about

    If you aren’t familiar with Homer’s 7th century allegorical poem of epic proportions, then good. At least you won’t be one of those people bemoaning the lack of historical accuracy in Nolan’s adaptation.

    In short: it’s been ten years since the fall of Troy and Ithaca’s King and great hero, Odysseus, hasn’t returned.

    His journey home went a wee bit wayward after a “slight” detour, during which he survived a cyclops, a witch, sea monsters, sirens and other ethereal beasts, including the Gods themselves, before finally washing up on Ithaca’s shores to save his Kingdom from a bunch of cunning “suitors” waiting to pounce on his absence and snatch it from under his son and heir, Telemachus.

    That just about summarises it anyway.

    Nolan’s masterpiece

    Apparently, Christopher Nolan was supposed to direct Troy some twenty years ago. But then Wolfgang Peterson, who developed the film, didn’t get his Batman V Superman movie green lit and so asked for Troy back.

    Twenty years later, Nolan finally has his own Greek epic. And it. Is. Gorgeous.

    Seriously who gives a shit about historical accuracy, when you’ve got shots like these (and more) that will leave you drooling?

    Here’s what I loved about the film:

    The cinematography is world class

    The acting is world class

    Ludwig Göransson’s score is world class

    Nolan’s direction is world class

    This on IMAX is world class

    The storytelling is world class

    Why it spoke to me

    If you’ve seen any of my film club “reviews” you’ll know that I’m always looking for a story that resonates, regardless of the media.

    The Odyssey was no exception.

    Now I haven’t read the book (yet), but I did connect with Nolan’s world building and narrative.

    Odysseus is all of us going through the motions in life. Just when we think we’ve done the right and dutiful thing in figuring out how to penetrate an impenetrable fortress, we quickly realise that that may not always be a good thing.

    We tear down walls and watch as people descend to the level of beasts in their pursuit of lust and power, while we look on in despair, knowing that this was all our doing.

    I remember once, at work, being asked by my boss to do something that would result in somebody else losing their job and being torn between having to do my duty and doing the right thing.

    In the end, I couldn’t go through with the request and ended up walking away, which means I don’t see the ghost of a jobless colleague every day at 3AM.

    And then, when trapped in a cave with a giant cyclops, just when we’ve figured out a way to escape and save lives, we decide to give our Ego a boost and take the beast down. It backfires, more lives are lost and we barely make it to safety.

    It reminds me of a time when I participated in a pub quiz. We were top of the leaderboard and had the chance to double our points at the end. Double or nothing. You’d think finishing first would be enough, but we made the collective decision to keep playing and ended up losing all our points – and the title – to another team. Ouch.

    Odysseus’ journey is transformative. In every conundrum, he has a decision to make as the leader of his men. And every decision has its own set of consequences. Do we continue out into sea and lose all men to a giant whirlpool? Or do we veer off course, brave another monster, but lose fewer men?

    Can we overcome lust, gluttony, temptation and guilt to finally get to where we’d set out to in the first place?

    Life itself is an Odyssey. It’s not always straight-forward. We may pick a course from A to B, but, often, we’ll meet unexpected challenges and obstacles that will test our resolve and throw us off course. And only when we go through these challenges, will we emerge on the other side as our best selves.

    Is mainstream media influencing people’s perceptions?

    I was out with a group of friends and one of them was talking about their experience with The Odyssey. According to them:

    I can’t stand Tom Holland

    Why is Helen of Troy black?

    It was too long (see my post on phones and attention span)

    It was historically inaccurate

    Something about Anne Hathaway’s forehead

    What’s up with the diverse cast

    Why are none of them actually Greek

    I’m sure there was more, but by this point I’d completely switched off. I’d read all this in a “critic’s” review of the film already. She’d regurgitated it almost word for word and when she was done, I asked her one simple question: “is that what you really thought of it?”

    She looked at me, bemused, and said, “I mean, yes, like why do they cast…” snore.

    Look, let me be honest with you. If you want to watch the film, go out and watch it. Form your own opinion. Look past the casting and the historical inaccuracy and embrace it for what it is.

    It’s a Nolan film. It’s epic. It’s beautiful. The actors transform into the characters they play. In fact, I wrote a short verse about it:

    This man they once called Bourne

    He now dons the helmet of Odysseus

    His taut frame sits in its armour

    He strings bows like in the days of ardour

    His wife, the beautiful and majestic Queen

    His son, discovering his heritage still

    Though in another world she dresses in prada

    And he swings on a web from building to building

    As for Eurylochus, we’ve seen him strum a guitar

    And make people laugh

    All this in another life

    In this life, he serves as Odysseus’s right hand

    The strings detach

    The stage is gone

    All that’s left is the fate of Ithaca

    And the one hero that can bring her back to glory

    No cameras. No rigging. No crew. No cast.

    No lens to capture the fate of the ancient world.

    Just a man who wants to get home, no matter what.

    And that is the true Odyssey.

    Yes there are other adaptations, each with its own merit. I haven’t seen the other ones (yet), but on its own, as a cinematic set piece, I can’t imagine a better version tailored for the big screen. The cyclops scene alone is worth making the trek to an IMAX theatre.

    For me:

    Rating: 5 out of 5.

    If you’d like to share your thoughts on the film, actual or otherwise, please do so in the comments. I’d love to hear what you (actually) think.

    <Phones

    Art>

  • Do The Right Thing – Does Anyone? (contains spoilers)

    It’s the hottest day in Brooklyn. The sweat-drenched inhabitants of the “Bed-Stuy” neighbourhood move about in a haze, while Sam Jackson (before he became Samuel L) plays some tunes on the local-local radio station that nobody seems to be tuned into.

    Pick a beat and let me lay out a fresh verse.

    Hot days and nights/ I swelter/ runnin from the fuzz/ helter skelter/ two hundred degrees don’t need no sweater/ blast Fight the Power on my sound dispenser.

    Grab a slice at Sal’s/ I see walls/ wait a minute/ where’s magic Marley Marl?/ Fuck Sal/ Fuck up his joint/ Wait stop! What bout ma pizza? Man fuck yo pizza, this man don’t ‘preciate none of us brothers.

    So what we gonna do? Boycott? Violence? What’s the right thing?

    Left fist hate/ Right fist love/ Fight the Power/ A sign from above.

    Call on X, call on Martin, one of these brothers/ They Do the Right Thing.

    If you want to add a few bars, please do so in the comments!

    Does anyone do the right thing?

    Let’s analyse.

    Sal, owner of Sal’s Pizzeria, refuses to put up pictures of black men on his wall, despite majority of his customers being black. Is he doing the right thing?

    Young Giancarlo Esposito wants to boycott the pizzeria because of this. Is he doing the right thing?

    Radio Rakim wants to play his music inside Sal’s, despite being told not to. Is he doing the right thing?

    The local old drunk saves a boy’s life. But he still gets shit for it. Did he do the right thing?

    Three black men are bitter because a Korean family that only just came into town already have a thriving business. Is that the right thing?

    Spike Lee, who works for Sal, takes the additional $250 thrown at him towards the end of the film, even though he didn’t earn it. Did he do the right thing?

    My two cents

    The truth is, nobody does the right thing. Nobody does the wrong thing. Right. Wrong. These are two bookends on either side of a whole lotta grey matter. And it’s that grey matter that actually… matters.

    In fact, if you ask me, Sal sits perfectly at the intersection of these two extremes. He is equanimity personified (except for his final outburst).

    He doesn’t really see black and white. He just sees customers. And his only job is to take care of these customers so they can keep coming back.

    And he says so himself:

    I never had no trouble with these people. I sat in this window. I watched these little kids get old. And I seen the old people get older. Yeah, sure, some of them don’t like us, but most of them do. I mean, for Christ’s sake, Pino, they grew up on my food. On my food. And I’m very proud of that.

    So… do you think anybody actually does the right thing? I’d love to hear your thoughts! All said and done, this was a masterclass production by the one and only Spike Lee.

    <Let The Right One In