The Truman Show (1998) – Breaking the Boundaries of Fiction in Film and TV

Film and television is essentially a collection of puppet shows. An unseen visionary controls and manipulates their subjects to create a series of events. Their subjects are humans, whether actors or ordinary people living out their lives on reality TV.  Both independently co-exist in the world of pop culture, but The Truman Show is about both: actors acting in a fantasy world and an ordinary person going about their day to day reality, all with a director pulling the strings out of sight.

The title refers to a always on air reality show following Jim Carrey’s Truman Burbank, who’s spent his whole life oblivious to the fact he is being televised, everyone around him are paid actors and that his hometown is actually a set inside a massive dome. This average Joe is actually a megastar in the real world as his routines are captured 24/7 for everyone to see from their screens.

His whole world is being controlled and planned intensely ahead of him, the same people pass him every morning, his wife will occasionally promote products to the audience Truman isn’t aware of, and after many years, his thought to be dead “father” suddenly re-appears. Like every reality show, it isn’t truly real.

The film is about Truman discovering that his existence has been manufactured from the beginning, as he desperately wants to see the rest of the world as his world does everything in it’s power to prevent him from leaving. In a sense, he wants to leave the movie we’re watching too, but the powers behind it won’t let him.

It’s a fascinating narrative to see unfold, with an impressively restrained Jim Carrey (see also Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) pulling you into both the humour and the twisted nature of the predicament Truman is in. But what really makes this movie fascinating to me is how it’s both about this fictional work of media as well as all media. Many fictional characters who lead mundane existences are hugely popular in the real world, they just don’t know it. When being interviewed, the director of the show says the defining line of the film: “We accept the reality of the world with which we are presented”. That’s true for both the consumer (us) and the characters within fictional worlds. But in the end, it’s all an illusion, and unlike most fictional characters, Truman begins to see through it.

Another interesting thing to consider is how we are as guilty as those in the film who are watching the show: we too, are spying into Truman’s world. In many ways, this is the cinematic equivalent of Metal Gear Solid 2, a game which makes you responsible for puppeteering the main character through these controlled scenarios like the ulterior forces within the story.

Both works do a great job of breaking the illusion of the art itself. No matter how invested we get, deep down it’s all an act, and The Truman Show actively sets out to expose that. At the end, Truman hits the edge of the set, discovering this world has been manufactured before he finds the doorway into reality and leaves the illusion behind for good. What really drives this idea of the bridge between fantasy and reality within this story home is that we don’t see what happens next once he sets foot into the real world, as the real world lies beyond our screens, without a guiding force in control of everything around us. Truman hasn’t just exited the set of the show, he’s freed himself from the film too.

 

 

 

 

Why Airplane! (1980) Remains King of the Spoof

Top Secret! The Naked Gun. Hot Shots. What do all these films have in common? Well, they’re all spoofs that came out after Airplane! from most of the same team, I mostly enjoyed them but my primary thought after all of them was “They had their moments, but they just weren’t as funny as Airplane…”

Any time I watch a spoof of that nature, I can’t help but make the comparison, but what is it about Airplane! that those other movies fail to live up to? Well, we follow Ted Striker, a former war pilot getting on a flight to try and re-connect with the love of his life. But disaster strikes as everyone who ordered fish off the menu becomes incredibly sick, including all of the pilots. So it’s up to Striker to overcome his war-time trauma and land the plane. It’s typically thought of as a parody of the disaster movie genre, but you might be surprised to learn that this is actually a remake!

Surely I can’t be serious? I am serious (And don’t call me Shirley.), the plot and most of the dialogue was lifted straight from the often forgotten 1957 thriller Zero Hour. It’s kind of funny to watch comparisons of the two films on YouTube, as you witness dialogue from one movie taking things seriously and the exact same lines morphed into comedy gold in another.

And I think that’s the secret trick that makes Airplane! work so well. It wasn’t originally envisioned as a comedy, meaning that a lot of the humour comes from how seriously the actors take the situation whilst spurting out the most absurd dialogue. Leslie Nielson is a key example. In The Naked Gun, he’ll give a little look at the camera or pull a silly face to let you know what just happened was funny. I don’t think he even cracks a grin in Airplane, which makes things much funnier. There’s also little winking to the camera, when something funny happens, characters carry on like nothing happened, which again, is a lot funnier.

The deadpan nature really is what sets it apart from other spoofs. Those other movies came after Airplane, meaning that they were written 100% as comedies, and making a bigger deal out of the comedy than they needed to. But for the original, they took a cheesy script for a serious drama with lines like “”Everyone’s life on board depends on finding someone who can not only fly this plane, but who didn’t have fish for dinner”, got the right actors to deliver these lines so they sounded hilarious instead, and added even more humour to the situation thanks to some great visual comedy and memorable supporting roles. An obscure drama became a beloved farce instead.

Airplane! continues to be one of my favourite comedies because it’s humour is loud enough to guarantee laughs and yet subtle enough to ensure you miss some jokes and make some of the straight line deliveries funnier the more you think about them. The other spoofs are only loud, meaning they lack the same re-watchability. It’s an entirely different kind of memorable, altogether!

 

Inazuma Eleven: The Movie (2010) and the Dangerous Power of Nostalgia

The year was 2011. In the summer, I had fallen in love with the Professor Layton series, so upon discovering that Level 5 had another IP to their name, the first Inazuma Eleven became a Christmas present before I became hooked to that series as well. It follows enthusiastic football captain Mark Evans as his team, the Raimon Eleven, become stronger players as they first take on the country’s best, then aliens (no, really) and eventually: the world!

I’m not much of a football fan, but the gameplay was addictive and the stories, while cheesy, had great characters that enthralled me in both the games and the anime series. So when I was lacking a creative spark yesterday, I decided to finally check out the movie to hopefully bring a smile to my face. And within the first few seconds, it did! Hearing the Raimon Academy theme again hit me right in the nostalgia, and I got ready to have a great time watching it. But as the film progressed, I became a lot more conflicted about my feelings…

So the movie sees a group of baddies in the future who want Mark Evan’s influence on people to be drastically decreased (leading to delightfully corny lines where “Let’s Play Football!” is apparently devil talk), so they explore his past to find the perfect opportunity to make him fall out of love with the sport.

Now “exploration of Mark’s past” is just a nice way of saying that about 70 to 75% of the run-time is directly from the anime. It goes through a massive chunk of the first season, occasionally interrupted by the bad guys comments and Mark’s future great grandson investigating the matter. It even gets to the point where the story just montages through a good chunk of the series!

Even if you’d never seen the show, it’d be obvious that you’re not watching one whole product as during the new parts of the movie, the animation is noticeably much smoother and crisp.

And this is where I feel very conflicted. On the one hand, this obviously comes off as very lazy and it can feel very sloppily integrated at times. But on the other hand… it’s still Inazuma Eleven. The music still pumped me up and the characters still charmed me, and the final match (which is when you get nothing but movie exclusive scenes) is pretty thrilling stuff.

I’d seen most of the movie before I’d actually watched it, but it still managed to entertain me. But I could just have easily gotten the same entertainment from just watching the anime, and that has the bonus of having all the details and not just the key scenes.

Being a movie on it’s own, it’s clearly not great, but because of how much I love the series, it still won me over to an extent. I have been listening to the Inazuma soundtrack since watching it and reminiscing on some of the series’ great moments. But at the end of the day, I’m not sure if I actually liked the movie, or if I just like Inazuma Eleven…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Internal and External Battles in Us (2019)

I like movies that are able to be many things at once. Many of my all time favourites are able to weave from different emotions to different genres and different styles without missing a step, feeling like I’ve just watched an entire film festival in one sitting. I’ve also become a big fan of movies that I can analyze for hidden details and potential meanings, granted they have a hook that makes me want to think about them.

It’s no surprise then that my current favourite movie of the year would be something like Us, Jordan Peele’s grind-house AND art-house tour de force. The UK doesn’t get the Blu-Ray until later this month, but I’ve spent enough time thinking about it since I came out of the cinema in April to have become incredibly excited for a re-watch.

The film follows the Wilsons, a quirky but ultimately average American family. We see them for the first time as they arrive at their holiday home in Santa Cruz for a relaxing weekend away. But seeing as this is a horror movie, their trip is anything but, as after a strange day at the beach, the power goes out and a home invasion unfolds. The Wilsons soon find themselves in a tense game of cat and mouse as they fend for themselves… against themselves, as their invaders are strange doppelgängers (known as the Tethered) that seem to reflect their own insecurities in dangerous ways.

That’s just the basic premise, as there’s way, WAY more going on, both in plain site and under the surface, should you wish to examine it. It’s easy to just get caught up in this suspenseful ride with it’s likeable characters and slick film-making, which is what the first viewing is for. Once I really began to think about everything on offer is when it became really exciting, and if you’re gearing yourself up for a first or second viewing, here’s just a few interesting details to take note of.

The film can be seen as a few different battles, from nature and nurture, but also between the lower, middle and upper class. The Tethered represent the lower class lashing out at the privileged, and the Wilsons friends, the Tyler family, are higher class. Even though the Tylers have little screen time, they add plenty of interesting elements to different interpretations. In this case, they’re the wealthiest characters in the movie, yet they don’t get along and when things go awry, they rely too much on their technology and thus sink without even trying to swim on their own.

Now the Wilsons are the middle class, who seem to take elements from the best of both worlds. They’ve enjoyed luxury, but they instantly go into survival instinct once the events take a dark turn, and it’s interesting to note how they often manage to outsmart their Tethered counterparts by using tools unavailable to the lower class (cars, boats and a flare gun being the most obvious examples).

And this also highlights one of the most interesting elements of the film as a whole. The Tethered can be seen as projections of that persons inner demons, most clearly shown in the spectacular final showdown, as protagonist Adelaide (possibly named after the city Down Under?) struggles to literally keep up with her past in the form of Red, who continually toys with her like a memory you want to but can’t forget.

To be honest, I could go on and on with ideas and observations, but for the sake of having a somewhat consistent article, I’ll stop with what I’ve got. Besides, part of the fun of experiencing the movie is watching it unfold in front of you before it leaves your mind whirring with ideas. So when it hits store shelves, give it a watch, lose yourself in a cinematic whirlwind of suspense and humour and enjoy coming to your own conclusions.

 

 

 

Before Sunrise (1995) – A Perfect Holiday Pick

One of the great things about art is the variety of journeys it can take us on. You can experience sweeping adventure, epic explosions, life changing beauty… or just two people wandering around a city chatting.

The latter perfectly sums up Before Sunrise, a film which sees an American guy and a French girl, Jesse and Celine, meet on a train. Neither are going to the same place, but Jesse admits to feeling a connection and invites Celine to spend a night in Vienna with him before they both part their separate ways. She agrees, and the rest of the film follows them as they explore the city and learn about each other as their connection grows.

All in all, it’s not exactly the most thrilling sounding premise, but the film manages to make it into a really good movie thanks to a few factors. It’s a very dialogue driven film, with a lot of the talk being about nothing in particular. But the two fantastic lead performances really elevate the script. I never considered the fact that these lines were written and that they were probably rehearsed many times, they’re delivered with a naturalism and spontaneity that makes these characters feel believable.

Jesse and Celine might be blabbing about random things, but because you believe that these are real people actually reminiscing on their pasts and gradually falling in love, it manages to keep the viewer engaged. True, there are some parts that had me a little antsy, but by the end, the journey felt worth it.

Also helping to keep things interesting is the atmosphere. I’ve never been to Vienna myself, but I still felt the humid air, the cobbled roads and the history that the buildings exude. It reminded me of walks I’ve had on holiday myself, taking in the architecture and mood of the location whilst chatting about things at home.

And that’s what I liked about this movie in a nutshell. I went on a trip with these characters, as they went into shops, restaurants, met the townsfolk and savoured the little time they had away from the rest of the world. It’s the magic of going away somewhere put to film, and all the feelings of love, regret and beauty that come with it.

I’ll watch Before Sunrise again, but the next time I do, I’ll be in a hotel room. It’ll be the evening after a busy day of soaking in the new environment, I’ll leave the window open to fill the room with the air and the sounds of night-life, snuggle into bed and begin playing the film having just experienced the same bitter-sweet joy that the characters are about to experience.

Clockwise (1986) – A Forgotten British Comedy Classic

Good old John Cleese! A wonderful writer and actor, no-one has put high profile characters through comedic panicking with the same level of energy and hysteria quite like him. And while most people tend to associate him with things like Monty Python, A Fish Called Wanda and Fawlty Towers, he puts that same character type through hell in Clockwise: a film that’s not as well known as those aforementioned examples, but is just as funny and chaotic.

Here Cleese plays Brian Stimpson, the first headmaster of a comprehensive school to be elected to give a speech at the annual Headmaster’s conference. Stimpson is also an control-freak, liking things to happen on the pre-set time. But on the way to the conference in Norwich (a-haaa!), he misses his train and must resort to travelling by car.

What happens next… I’d rather not give away. It’s a very simple premise, but the journey holds surprise after surprise, and part of the fun is watching the chaos become greater and greater as all kinds of obstacles and characters come in Mr. Stimpson’s way.

By far the best thing about Clockwise is it’s unpredictability. The amount of situations the writer was able to come up with all stemming from this character missing a train is extremely impressive and it’s great fun to see them all unfold and converge, resulting in even more mayhem. It’s not necessarily an explicitly jokey movie (though there’s some good visual gags), but it’s the premise that carries these events along, akin to action movies like Die Hard and Speed.

It also helps that the actors help make the proceedings even funnier. John Cleese is doing his usual Basil Fawlty schtick, but he does it so well it’s hard to mind, and seeing this control-freak lose any semblance of it as the film progresses is very well played, and the supporting cast are rather lively too.

I will confess that despite all this praise, I do think the film is close to being great, but it doesn’t quite get there. The story’s breakneck pace leads to a couple of scenes towards the end dragging a bit, even if there are good bits in those sequences. There’s also a couple of lines that are trying to be a little risqué that come off as a bit awkward and forced. These aren’t massive problems, but they can take you out the experience enough for the whole package to not quite reach the heights of Cleese’s finest work.

But the stuff that’s good manages to outweigh those negatives enough for this to be a very underrated British comedy. It takes the character types of Fawlty Towers and puts them in a Smokey and the Bandit style scenario, with the results as fittingly frantic and fun as you’d expect.

 

If Beale Street Could Talk’s (2018) Intimacy and Universality

“Every black person born in America was born on Beale Street, born in the black neighborhood of some American city, whether in Jackson, Mississippi, or in Harlem, New York. Beale Street is our legacy.” – James Baldwin

As I sat by myself having just witnessed Moonlight director Barry Jenkins’s newest film, it was that quote that seemed to answer the question going through my mind. Like Moonlight, I found Beale Street to be an intimate, beautiful and riveting experience. Yet as I sat there soaking my thoughts in the film, I realized that something was possibly off, but what I should’ve been criticizing didn’t feel like a flaw with the movie, I knew I was missing something.

To better understand where I’m coming from, let’s go over the basic premise. In 1970’s Harlem, we meet two young lovers: Tish and Fonny. The latter finds himself charged for a rape he did not commit and imprisoned. With the help of her family, Tish tries to clear his name before she gives birth to their child. The film cuts back and forth between after Fonny’s arrest and before; letting the audience see the central romance blossom amidst racial prejudice.

It’s a hopelessly romantic tale, with beautifully realized chemistry between the two leads that’s bolstered by a memorable supporting cast, gorgeous cinematography, an amazing score that creates great atmosphere and some wonderful moments that have an underlying sadness to them knowing where their story leads.

But that’s not what I wanted to focus on with this article. Notice how I said  “basic premise”, as there’s a lot more to the story than that, and at a first glance, it looks as if the story isn’t fully realized. A lot of characters come in and out of the plot, and there isn’t a definitive sense of closure. But as I was thinking about the movie and that opening quote, that’s when my understanding of the film came full circle.

This is a very intimate story, and yet it seems to be one that speaks for a whole generation of black people, focusing on how their lives can be cruelly affected by racism. Seemingly insignificant moments like a scene with Tish working at a perfume shop and a conversation with an old childhood friend help to develop this idea, and the use of old black and white photos really drives it home.

This gives the drama an extra undercurrent of sadness and suspense, making every harrowing and heartfelt moment all the more impactful, and while the bittersweet conclusion and lack of resolution to the rape trial might leave audiences unsatisfied, I think it’s right for this story. It’s the reality the characters must face, but it’s the journey that brings them to that realization that’s most important.

If Beale Street Could Talk contains several loose ends that aren’t fully tied up, and at a glance, the events of the narrative ultimately seem inconsequential. But instead of being a conventional narrative where everything is given proper closure, it is a universal tale of the unnecessary struggles that racism brings, but also the determination and desire for justice that is brought out by love, and it is the characters going through these motions that drives the narrative forward rather than the narrative itself.

And that, in my opinion, is what makes this an enthralling and unforgettable journey that’ll stay in my mind for a very long time.

The Shining (1980) – So Close Yet So Far

All work and no play makes George a dull boy. All work and no play makes George a dull boy. All work and no play makes George a dull boy. All work an- okay, I’ll stop now.

Little over a year ago, I decided to get into the Halloween spirit by watching a few horror movies, one of which was Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining. Having loved 2001, enjoyed Dr Strangelove and really liked The Killing, I was excited to see what Kubrick had crafted with this supposed horror masterpiece. After the film ended, I took a walk and thought to myself for a while, unsure of my thoughts. Had I even liked it? The conclusion I came to is that while I had enjoyed parts of it, there were major issues that I couldn’t ignore.

But now that a year has passed and now that I’ve seen more of Kubrick’s films, I decided to give it a re-watch to see if I had simply misunderstood the film. So now that I’ve seen it again, do I now think that the Torrance family’s trip to the Overlook Hotel is as brilliant as the majority thinks it is?

Well, I certainly felt a lot more positive towards what I like about the movie. The cinematography is really terrific, whether it’s capturing gorgeous images or silently gliding behind or in front of our characters. All of the performances are really good, Jack Nicholson shines at playing a deranged maniac in the way only he does and Kubrick’s controversial treatment of Shelley Duval leads to an effective performance, despite some overly screamy scenes towards the end.

The Shining also contains some mostly really great atmosphere, seemingly normal scenes are made unsettling by a wailing soundtrack, and most of the run-time has an underlying suspense that even on a second viewing, worked very well. But that leads me into my issues with the movie…

I enjoyed this movie a lot more on round two, but it’s still a film I far from love, and it all comes down to the inclusion and lack of scenes. I mentioned how good the atmosphere is, but despite an attempt to create a sense of isolation, I never felt that these characters were truly trapped at the hotel.

An early scene with Wendy Torrance contacting some rangers doesn’t help, and even when Jack disconnects their communications later on, we’re shown that Scatman Crothers’ characters is on the way to the hotel, so even when it should look like Wendy and Danny should be trapped, we know that a means of escape is on the way. The film still maintains intensity, but nowhere near as much as there would be had those scenes been altered/cut.

But the biggest issue I (and Stephen King) have with the movie is Jack Torrance’s descent into madness. He seems normal enough at the beginning when looking around the hotel, but after a scene where he snaps at his wife, he’s clearly already crazy without any real reason as to why. It’s still somewhat interesting to see him interact with the rest of the hotel, but we never get to see how we was thrown over the edge, the transition is far too sudden.

And maybe that’s what makes this film so scary for millions of people, how the right conditions can make someone snap so suddenly and dangerously. But for me, had the scenes that make the film less isolated been cut and more scenes of Jack Torrance’s slow transformation to craziness been added, maybe I’d love this film too.

And while I can admire the performances, film-making and the tension, the issues keep me from being truly sucked into the horrors of the Overlook Hotel, ensuring that as the camera moves towards the final image of that iconic photo that has kept viewers haunted and thinking for years, I look at it in the same way I look at the character arc of Jack Torrance: Sudden, confusing but ultimately uninteresting.

Porridge (1979) – Adapting a TV Show into a Film Successfully

Even though I’m more vocal about being a gamer and film buff, I do watch my fair share of television as well. I’m mostly into sit-coms, and have recently finished watching all three series’ of Porridge, which follows the capers of Ronnie Barker’s prisoner Fletcher as he does time at HM Slade Prison. It started out a little weak, but after the third episode, I really enjoyed the comedy and the numerous relationships Fletcher developed between the other inmates and the officers, and by the end of the show, I was a big fan.

I had no idea that a film adaptation had been made until I accidentally stumbled upon it’s existence in the middle of my time with the show, and despite the not-so-great track record of other movies based off of TV shows leaving me with low expectations, I still found myself curious to check it out. But by the end of the movie, I had enjoyed it so much that I instantly declared it as an underrated comedy gem, and one of the finest transitions from 30 minute television to 90 minute feature film I’d ever seen.

But what made this unexpectedly work so well? I’ll confess that it probably won’t be as good to someone who hasn’t seen the show when compared to someone who has, but the latter can appreciate how well it carries the spirit from the show over to the movie. There’s plenty of big laughs, the cast are all on top form, and a handful of new characters nicely introduce us to the prison lifestyle for the film. There’s also several Easter Eggs which add an extra layer of entertainment for fans, like seeing the same church and vicar from the “Day Out” episode.

Yet it’s the plot where the movie really shines as a lesson in adapting a TV show into film form. It revolves around a football match and a prison breakout (yes, it’s essentially Escape to Victory) that Fletcher and his cell-mate Godber are accidentally thrown into, leading to them attempting to break back into prison. The story takes it’s time to unfold and has just enough of a cinematic kick to make it feel like more than just an extended episode of the show, while still retaining what made it work in the first place.

Despite what I said earlier, this is a film you could watch and enjoy even if you’ve never seen an episode of the show beforehand. It’s funny enough for newcomers to Porridge. But if you are a fan, this is well worth seeking out to see a movie that does it’s damn hardest to be a worthwhile companion piece to the show, and in my opinion, it succeeds in being so.

 

BlacKkKlansman (2018) – Telling a True Story Cinematically

If you read my article on Coco from earlier this year, you’ll know that that and La La Land were the only movies I’d ever seen twice in cinemas. Well, BlacKkKlansman can now be added to that list, a film which, on both viewings, made me laugh, cry, feel sick in some places and filled me with joy in others. What I hadn’t appreciated watching it for the first time is how expertly crafted it is, and my second viewing confirmed to me that this might just be my favourite film based on (as the film itself puts it) “some fo’ real, fo’ real sh*t”.

After one of the finest scene setting openings in recent memory (featuring a hilarious turn from Alec Baldwin), the film quickly shows us how well made it’s going to be, with protagonist Ron Stallworth applying to become the first black cop at the Colorado Springs Police Department. It’s a conversation that develops a rhythm with how it’s edited and performed, making the pauses a lot more noticeable than they would’ve been otherwise, also giving us key information about Stallworth’s character, resulting in a simple scene of dialogue becoming an exciting piece of film-making, and this is only five minutes in!

It also highlights how different this movie feels when compared to other true story films. Most retellings of real events just tell the story through the medium of film, which works well, but BlacKkKlansman’s story lends itself to more than just a basic look at what occurred. The events in question follow Ron as an undercover cop who decides to infiltrate the Ku Klux Klan with him handling the phone calls and colleague Flip Zimmerman meeting them in person.

The film’s central theme is that of duality, the most obvious being between love and hate, presented via a black student union that Ron gets involved with and the Klan itself. The KKK are especially bolstered by this idea, with the film showing the silly side to the group but using some of the scenes of the union to make the harrowing moments all that more harrowing. There’s more examples of this duality, but it goes to show how thematically rich this story was made to evolve it as a film.

And the film-making has a lot more cinematic energy to it than your average true story, with some quirky editing making basic scenes a lot more interesting, a terrific soundtrack that elevates what’s happening on the screen to a higher level, and as the film reaches it’s final moments, we get an almost hypnotic hallway shot that beautifully transitions the audience from film to reality.

The final 10 minutes of BlacKkKlansman go from some of the most satisfying scenes in movie history (if you’ve seen the movie and aren’t sure which scene I’m talking about, are-a you sure?) to one of the most haunting, which ties real footage to the story somehow seamlessly.

And because the whole film, through every funny, wonderful, sickening and suspenseful scene has been moving towards a moment so powerful the pitch black silence from the audience leaves it’s own impact, Spike Lee gave me a new reason to love the movies.