In the shrubs is a blog by two friends who seek to neither gain influence or reputation, it is simply an attempt to publish our thoughts and feelings to those who potentially care. After endless discussions in the pub and on the internet it seemed only appropriate to create some kind of space where we can share our thoughts and feelings on the cultural world at large. Inspired by the works of Werner Herzog and Chris Morris, but seriously concerned that some of our friends may be sympathetic to the work of Michael Bay the only thing we can do is to offer our opinions on Cinema, Music and all cultural activity in an already overcrowded marketplace.

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

Movie Retrospective: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull


After the release of Raider of the Lost Ark in 1981 Harrison Ford’s Indiana Jones became a household name, throughout the eighties (and the early nineties with the barely remembered ‘Young Indiana Jones’ series) the original team behind the bullwhip and fedora, Steven Spielberg directing and George Lucas providing the story and production, created a phenomenon out of the inventive storylines and quirky characters. So steeped in the collective consciousness of the film going masses was the action hero archaeologist that when a fourth film was announced for release in 2008 I found myself in a fervour of nostalgia. The early trailers were extraordinarily well judged and many, after comments made by the filmmakers that it would indeed stay true to the original films, saw this to be the ode to many people’s, including my own, childhood experiences of fabulous action cinema.

What happened then is history. Despite many critics views to the contrary a large proportion of those who watched Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull hated the film: none more influential than Matt Stone and Trey Parker, creators of South Park, who tore into the film and its creators for figuratively (though not quite so figurative within the episode in question: “The China Problem”) ‘raping’ the character of Indiana Jones. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back: many of those who had been straining through their nostalgia goggles when watching the new movie had again been given an opinion by South Park so that they didn’t have to formulate their own. The internet backlash was immense, one scene in particular received a large amount of ridicule, and “Nuking the Fridge” became somewhat of a byword for when a series reaches a point of absurdity similar to the infamous “Jumping the Shark” sequence in Happy Days. But was this scene any more ridiculous than the scene in The Temple of Doom where the characters are treated to ‘chilled monkey brains’, a rather misjudged joke on the excesses of Indian cuisine? Or the scene in The Last Crusade where Henry Jones Sr. (played by Sean Connery) takes down a Messerschmitt by scaring birds into its path?



The fact is that the creators of the original series took a gamble, and it failed. With a series so heavily entrenched in fandom almost any sequel, so late in its arrival, would be doomed to a disappointing reaction from fans. The fact is that none of the sequels stand up to the first film, the pacing, setting, characters, narrative and dialog were almost utterly perfect; and I still say that Raiders of the Lost Ark is one of the best, if not the best, action film ever made. And like many film series, the sequels get steadily worse.

After the triumph of Raiders, Temple tried something different. A new setting, religion, region and cast were introduced, and the film’s opening sequence tells the audience (though many fail to notice it) that the film is in fact a prequel, taking place before the events of Raiders. More comic elements were introduced, in the shape of Chinese pickpocket ‘Short-Round’ and ‘Willie’ Scott, and the scarier elements of the film took an even darker tone too; particularly in the scene where a man’s heart is ripped from his chest, which forced American distributors to rethink their classification guide. Watching again, much of the comedy works very well, the scene where Willie and Indiana fight a sexual war between their two rooms in the palace is a guilty pleasure, and despite its departure in tone, the slapstick elements are generally handled well. But already the seeds were sown for Crystal Skull; the moments with enslaved children are hair-pullingly sentimental (something which Spielberg is guilty of in his films time and time again), and as mentioned before the departure in tone from the first is a little jarring, with many feeling that the return of an ancient evil cult did not strike the right chord with western audiences in quite the same way that the Ark of the Covenant did.

The third film of the original trilogy supposedly took the film back to its roots, bringing Judeo-Christian mythology again to the forefront, and giving the Nazi party again an antagonistic role. The return of the Nazis gives the film the feel of the first, which is pleasing, but decisions were made regarding the characters that made the third by far the worst of the original three. Both Sallah and Brody, intellectual and steadfast, witty and charming, became bumbling oafish characters in Crusade, removing much of the natural comedy from their intellectual debates with Indiana and replacing it with gags about falling over, and walking stupidly, or acting like idiots. Far from happy that the characters that I loved from the first film returned I am glad that they did not return for the fourth. The rest of the cast is on the whole pitch-perfect however, with Sean Connery as an excellent Henry Jones Sr. and Alison Doody as by far the most attractive character in possibly any film ever as Dr. Elsa Schneider.



In many ways Crystal Skull is a fitting epitaph for the character of Indiana Jones. The storytelling is pacey, if a little sketchy, and there are some genuinely fantastic moments that feel entirely true to the original spirit of the series, in particular the fight in the diner, which had a Temple-esque slapstick quality to it, and the resultant motorbike chase which feels real and exciting, a band apart from many CGI action scenes in modern movies where you feel distanced from the action because of the computer game aesthetics. The opening scene is also excellent, in keeping with the quasi-dance routine in Temple and the lovingly crafted origin scene with the late River Phoenix in Crusade. There a lot of things right with Crystal Skull, and even the supporting cast, including Shia LaBeouf whom I will never forgive for starring in Transformers 2, do an admirable job of keeping everything as we remembered it. But, as stressed by many fans upon the film’s release, Crystal Skull does have its myriad problems. The film seems to be obsessed with small, obviously CGI, animals, and keeps showing them us for no reason. In one particularly ham-fisted scene Mutt (Laboobillybuff or however you spell it) swings through the jungle with hundreds of badly rendered CGI monkeys. Why is this scene there? Many have chosen to see this as the unmistakable sweaty fingerprints of Mr George Lucas who, unsatisfied with filling the awful Star Wars prequels with computer generated clutter, went back and destroyed his original films with stupid, unending computer idiocy. And this may be so, but the fact of the matter is: is it really any worse than the scene where the children break out of the mines in Temple and overpower the guards, running back the awaiting arms of their parents? Or the scene where Indy runs into an unexpected meeting with Adolf Hitler himself in Crusade? Probably. But my point is that the original trilogy, bar the first, had just as much silliness as Crystal Skull, if not more; and many people forget this simple fact perhaps because of their attachment to the films. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is the worst of the series, but not by much, the film has a lot to like, but the direction it chose did not please fans and, being one of those fans myself, I found the film to be a lot more enjoyable and in keeping with the series’ tone once I had torn the rose-tinted spectacles from my eyes.

By Alastair

(P.S. I don’t care about the aliens thing, they aren’t real either so what’s the problem?)

Friday, 12 February 2010

The failure of Invictus and the problems of historical cinema.


Last week saw the release of Clint Eastwood’s latest film Invictus, an historical biopic of Nelson Mandela set against the backdrop of the 1995 rugby world cup, starring Morgan Freeman as the man himself with Matt Damon as springbok captain, Francois Pienaar. As this is not necessarily a review I’ll keep the background and plot points to a minimum as this can be found practically anywhere. What I do want to do is analyse the film and the issue of historical film in general. Essentially the film is a failure and here is why.

The biggest problem with Invictus is that it neither follows a convincing historical narrative nor presents itself as engaging drama. In order for it have some sort of historical credibility it needs to form some kind of argument. Its not that the film has any overt anachronisms as such; however it simply packages what the audience knows and perceives of the man and throws it back at them. After watching the film I feel no differently about Nelson Mandela or South African history than I did before, there is no in depth exploration of the social situation underlying the need to win the world cup and only basic ideas are flagged: Nelson Mandela had a hard time in prison, South Africa’s struggle with the legacy of apartheid etc but these ideas are not explored in sufficient detail to create some form of argument. Historical narratives work best when we know the outcomes, once we are not relying on unfolding drama, as an audience, we are able to explore the events which lead to the finale. The problem lies herein; the fact that South Africa won the Rugby world cup in 1995 is pretty much common knowledge and while not forwarding some form of historical narrative the film also fails dramatically because of this knowledge. The extended rugby scenes hold little tension and essentially seem to be a little self-indulgent. I don’t particularly have a problem with using history for dramatic purposes however the film sits in some form of pointless middle ground. For those who are aware of the events surrounding the 1995 world cup there is little historical exploration but there is also a concession for those who don’t. The film needed to consistently follow a historical or dramatic narrative and ended up following neither.


Clint Eastwood has always been a director who works with large brushstrokes and this black and white approach made Gran Torino an outstanding, compelling and enthralling drama. This approach doesn’t quite fit the mould with Invictus though, and coupled with the presumed ignorance to rugby for an international audience creates scenes where events are explained directly through the dialogue rather than being fully developed and suggestive. For instance, a scene where the Springboks are sent into poor townships to bring rugby to the black community should explore the issues involved with this. In reality though this just serves as a beginners guide to rugby for those who may be clueless. Furthermore, the events of the world cup are explained to Mandela and to the audience by the discussion of a wall chart placed within his office. It must be noted that I am not challenging the right of Clint Eastwood to make this film. There has much discussion over a Hollywood version of a South African story however the moment we enable a monopoly of representation on history is where self serving and teleological histories begin to occur. Clint Eastwood has every right to provide his interpretation of South African history; it just happens that he doesn’t do a particularly good job of it. When Invictus is looked at years to come it will hopefully tell us a great deal about the way in which Hollywood views the current world climate however we will need to wait for this interpretation to become fully apparent.

If Invictus isn’t a success, which films have tackled history more successfully? I would suggest Paul Greengrass has provided two of the more important historical documents in recent times with Bloody Sunday and United 93. Both these films helped to bring about some form of resolution to an aggrieved community by sufficiently providing historical explanation and honouring the memory of those involved in these events. These films are closer to successful documentaries than they are narrative films and this is what makes them so harrowing yet enthralling to view. Another successful recent example, and another representing the troubles in Northern Ireland, is Steve Mcqueen’s directorial debut Hunger. Examining the 1981 IRA hunger strikes, and in particular, Bobby sands, the film investigates Police Violence, the morality of hunger striking, and the causes and effects of these actions. It was certainly not IRA propaganda as some members of the press suggested and is one of the clearest historical films in recent years. If these three suggestions seem a little miserable then Frost/Nixon is the best recent film to use history for dramatic rather than historical purposes. Making no pretence to examine times gone by, the film is simply fantastic entertainment, playing out a battle of words as if it were the final bout of Rocky; a surprise given Ron Howard’s recent fondness for Dan Brown adaptations.

I have no issue with directors using history for dramatic purposes as long as that line is clearly defined. The biggest problem with Invicitus is its ineptitude in deciding what it wants to be. Too simplistic to provide good history and not remarkable enough to provide good drama it sits like a damp squib in the middle. Hopefully there will be better films made about Mandela’s presidency in the future, however for now we can sit back and applaud some of the more successful historical films of recent times.

By Sam

Tuesday, 9 February 2010

On the backward Legislation concerning Cannabis


Its strange isn't it? When something (look on www.talktofrank.com, even they stress the danger of being caught over the danger of use) so seemingly harmless can be utterly condemned by a government. Cannabis is a class B drug, meaning that even possession is a prisonable offence. Is that fair? Is Cannabis the gateway drug we're all lead to believe? Honestly I don't think it is.

Cannabis use is rife. Almost everybody knows someone who does it, and those few who do use it will certainly know someone who supplies it, or even grows it. People use cannabis because they enjoy it, and when someone enjoys something they will almost always find some way of getting what they want, illegal or not. Most of cannabis use happens behind close doors, due to it's illegality; and therefore it's effects are confined. Despite words to the contrary however, Cannabis is not without it's harmful effects, despite there being no recorded deaths, brain damage, resperatory problems and schizophrenia have all been linked to cannabis use. Although these problems pale into insignificance when compared to a substance considered socially acceptable: Alcohol.

The fact is, and this is widely accepted, that alcohol is a huge social problem. You can't escape it, go into town on a night out and the probability is that you will see some couple having a drunken argument on the pavement. Who says that argument won't get violent? Stranger things have happened. A huge amount of money (that of the tax payers) is spent on rehabilitating people who do not know their own limits when it comes to alcohol, and even more is spent on injuries inccured as a result of it. Much of the research into anti-social behaviour has pointed to the mis-use of alcohol, and government has finally stepped in. Stepped in it more like. Raising the drinking age to 21 is utterly ludicrous, what is that going to stop? Do they think that those directionless kids who drink it down the park got it legally? Or do they think that the shouty, white shirt wearing, silver bracletted, spikey haired morons who populate clubs, are not 21 already? It saddens me that a government can have such a misunderstanding of its own people.

The answer in my mind is simple. Not so simple to be without its problems, and if history has taught us anything, its that things written down can be entirely different when applied to the real world. But does it makes so little sense to restrict drinking to venues? Small pubs are losing business all over the country because of the supermarket and off-lincense wars to keep their alcohol prices low to meet customer demand, and as a result cheap alcohol is available everywhere, for anyone who wants it. Cut off this supply, either by restricting alcohol sale in supermarkets and off-licenses, or creating a situation where alcohol is much more expensive to buy for home use, and create an attitude to drinking that promotes sociality, discussion and friendliness, rather than one that, as in society in which we live, where alcohol abuse is promoted everywhere through deals on drinks and cheap alcohol.

With such a simple answer to a much more dangerous problem, would it be out of the realms of possibility to apply such a scheme to something like cannabis? If it were available in cafes, as in Amsterdam, or over the counter, the illegal supply would falter, not only would people have a different attitude to the drug, but drug dealers themselves would lose money, a substancial amount considering the use in Britain today. Confining things like alcohol and cannabis use to local venues, and creating an attitude of complacency to each substance to me sounds like a perfect situation. Theres a million reasons why it couldn't work, but no where near as many as why it could.

By Alastair

Friday, 5 February 2010

Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll: Movie Review


Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll follows in the now well established tradition of films like 24 Hour Party People (2002), even the recent biopic Bronson (2008), and takes a story of a well known British pop culture icon and sets out to tell the story of their life, whilst adding flights of fancy and fantastical scenes for artistic licence. This should not sound as derogatory as it does, and as Ian Dury (Andy Serkis) says in the film: “Don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story.”

That story follows Ian Dury, lead singer of British Punk-Rock band The Blockheads, through his early days in the 1970’s, and the rise and fall of his career in the 1980’s. The story pays particular attention to the fact that Dury suffered from the debilitating disease polio, which he contracted as a young boy; and the way in which this not only affected his career, but also his relationships, both with his wife, lovers, his band mates and his young son Baxter (Bill Milner). The film mixes live music (performed by Serkis himself), injected into the main meat of the drama that takes place in the film, the overarching theatricality of the film representing Dury’s own aesthetic; giving the movie the feel of an ethereal ode to a passed English eccentric, which in a way it is.

Serkis’ performance is beyond show stealing, he owns the film as he has owned others in the past: even when the man does not appear directly on screen, as with his role as Gollum in the Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003), he can create an aura of great infectious passion and intensity. My knowledge of The Blockheads and Dury himself was minimal before I saw this film, and I don’t think of myself as somewhat of an expert having experienced it: but the story, characters, music and look of the film are enjoyable enough to shake the sense that what you are seeing on screen is somewhat of a exercise in hero worship for the filmmakers. That said, Dury is no saint, and Serkis’ performance shows not only the great love that Dury had for his nearest and dearest, but also the fear, anguish and hatred he felt due to his disability, and the vaguely selfish nature of his career. The supporting cast are fabulous, in particular Milner as Dury’s impressionable son Baxter, and the film’s theatrical sideshow style suites Serkis’ performance exactly. The film’s visuals can be a little hard to swallow at times, but Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll suffers little for it; shining as a little British gem in a month of big foreign releases.

By Alastair

Thursday, 4 February 2010

Book Review: Mark Kermode- It's only a movie: reel life adventures of a film obsessive




Up until the age of around fifteen I was pretty much convinced that most films were a load of rubbish; before this, enjoyable cinematic adventures were few and far between. The arrival of Mark Kermode into my life heralded a change. previously me and friends rarely went to the cinema to go and see a particular film, rather we would venture around bored, finally deciding that the local multiplex was the only option. The final straw was watching Get rich or die tryin’; however this luckily coincided with me discovering Mark Kermode discussing movies with Simon Mayo every Friday afternoon. Leading me in the right direction, he showed me there was more out there than I had originally thought and perhaps more comfortingly, proved me right; all my friends had a terrible, terrible taste in films. Modern cinema wasn’t inherently bad; I just wasn’t looking in the right places. All this may seem irrelevant given I’m here to talk about Mark Kermode; it’s his taste in films which people are interested in, not mine. However I feel it necessary to foreground the importance this man has held for me in the past few years. (Sorry if that sounds a little creepy) It is in the context and listening to and relying on this mans opinion every week in which I read this book and probably will be the same for many others who choose to do the same.

Kermode cleverly avoids the conventions of standard autobiography and by appreciating the flawed conception of memory it allows him to open up, to elaborate without appearing self indulgent. The book is told through the narrative of The Mark Kermode Story, a movie in which Kermode is played by Jason Isaacs with a large and famous supporting cast. Through this he discusses his life as a film obsessive; charting his rise from avid film fan, through his many attempts and his eventual success as possibly the nations favourite film critic. From the early days sitting in the cinema watching films such as Slade in Fame and silent running we are told of more star studded encounters such as being present for the moment someone chooses to take fire at Werner Herzog and being confronted by Helen Mirren for his forthright opinions on The Queen. Kermode certainly knows the audience he is writing for and therefore it is somewhat disappointing that he recounts stories I have heard him endlessly talk about before. Despite his entertaining sardonic wit, the retelling of the stories adds little to what I knew already. The book treads on more interesting ground when we here of the unknown. Mark’s short venture onto American soil proves to be unexpected and entertaining while the certain highlight of this book is his Russian journey into the unknown. Brilliantly told, I became sympathetically angry while at the same time incredibly amused at the impenetrable Mr. Nyet.

For someone who professes to have a PhD in English, ‘It’s only a movie’ is a strikingly simple piece of work. However it’s also a successful one, Kermode knows his audience and he plays to them. Like many of the narrative films which he has evidently become so endowed with, this book accepts and takes part in a brand of mythological story telling. Although nothing new, ‘Its only a movie’ confirms why I became such a fan of the man in the first place. If lacking in striking originality, it makes up for it in simple entertainment. For those unaccustomed to his weekly radio ramblings there is little to offer; however Kermode certainly knows how to play to a crowd. Anecdotal, rather than analytical this is a memoir which although offers little subversion has high entertainment value. If anything, the familiarity of many of the incidents involved is part of my own undoing. Being slightly obsessed with this man’s opinion over the past few years has made it near impossible for me to miss these tales. Perhaps the greatest testament to the book is the way in which it left me reeling missed opportunities. Around a year ago I worked in a bar where the good doctor himself was in attendance. When I saw him at the bar I stated ‘are you being served’ with the reply being a simple ‘yes’. My attitude then was that although I was a fan why would he want to talk to me? Reading this book gave me a feeling of deep regret. Why didn’t I just run up and ask him about the exorcist?

By Sam

Sunday, 31 January 2010

Daybreakers: Movie Review


I find it difficult to talk about the vampire horror genre. It has now been done so much that it has surpassed ‘done-too-much’, vaulted over ‘done-to-death’ and now rests within the realm of merely ‘done’. Vampires are here, so we’d better get used to it. And it is with this in mind that the Spierig brothers, known for their underground Australian zombie movie Undead (2003), bring Daybreakers: a vampire horror with a neo-noir twist.

In the near future, a plague causing vampiric symptoms (no reflection in mirrors, thirst for blood, bad complexion) has swept over the entire world; turning almost every soul into a blood hungry fiend. Far from falling into disarray, the world accepted its new found status, and human blood becomes the world’s drug, Vampires living almost normal lives supplemented by regular doses of the red stuff. Few humans remain, using the vampires’ weaknesses to stay out of their way. As their numbers dwindle, the Vampires begin to feel the effects of the drought, and as the blood farms hold less and less stock, the populace face the threat of starvation. Holding out for a blood substitute, Edward Dalton (Ethan Hawke) is a Vampire scientist on the brink of a breakthrough; but after a chance meeting with a group of human refugees, he starts to question the stability of his own civilisation.

The Spierig brother’s previous effort, Undead, I didn’t like at all. It was presented by the trailer and posters as a return to the comedy aesthetics of films like Peter Jackson’s wonderful splatter comedy Braindead (1992), or even Sam Raimi’s career defining Evil Dead Trilogy (1981-1993), but this simply wasn’t the case. The slapstick fell flat, the film had no Lionel or Ash character to lead the way, and the whole thing was rather a mess; a classic case of style over substance. The filmmakers tried to do too much with too little and it showed. However Daybreakers is happily rather good.

The film on occasion looks really great, the neo-noir stylings of the Vampire city is complimented by the 50’s look of the Vampires, rushing through the twilight streets in their dark clothes, clouded by steam and cigarette smoke. The Spierig brothers’ first film suffered because of its budget and lack of studio pressure to make it more streamlined; but Daybreakers gives the right balance of visuals and narrative: the story is quickly paced, despite the occasional lull in action, and solid performances from main players Ethan Hawke and Claudia Karvan give the characters more than enough depth to hold interest. Sam Neill in particular gives an enjoyably villainous performance as the antagonistic Vampire bureaucrat Charles Bromley, and Willem Dafoe has a little too much fun with the scenery chewing Lionel "Elvis" Cormac: spouting the silliest lines in the film. The movie is fine overall; the adequate performances, well-paced narrative and occasionally stand-out visual direction means Daybreakers is a good, if not great, horror thriller.

by Alastair

Monday, 25 January 2010

The problem with poor marketing.

2008 already seems like a long time ago. This time two years ago No country for old man had entered cinemas and There will be blood was waiting around the corner. These were the days when the big studios could risk making interesting and original films which were neither funny nor guaranteed to have at least two increasingly successful sequels. However, as the recession kicked in the studios realised they needed sure fire bankers; creativity went out of the window, risk was avoided and Transformers: revenge of the fallen was made. This point seems almost too obvious to discuss; the big studios are there to make money first and foremost and if the money’s not flowing that is what they will aim to do. This has also had a knock down effect though, while once There will be blood could be successfully marketed for what it was there has been an increasing need to mislead viewers by advertising less marketable features in a way which presents them as the kind of fodder that is guaranteed to bring in the money.

This seems to be a regressive tactic though. In the summer I went to see the fantastic Adventureland while it seems that many others missed the opportunity. On the slightly dull Thursday afternoon when I ventured to my nearest multiplex there were only three others in the cinema. This was reflected by the box-office figures with the film leaving the top ten within a couple of weeks of entering. The trailer portrayed the film as a standard teenage comedy, following James’ (Jesse Eisenberg) worst summer job ever at a local theme park. The only problem is that the trailer doesn’t make it look particularly funny. The film certainly has comedic elements but it is not a comedy. It is a warm-hearted interesting take on a clichéd story, just carried out with more style and believability than any other film I have seen of its type. It portrayed a wonderful sense of melancholy which was nowhere to be seen in an advertising campaign which emphasised Greg Mottola’s previous film Superbad .I wasn’t the only one who raved about it either. The film gained particularly good press with a five star review in The Independent and an 88% rating on rotten tomatoes. The advertising campaign, while alienating those who may have enjoyed the darker tone of the movie, also dissuaded those who imagined something a little more comical. Overall I’m not saying that this film could have topped the box office, what I am saying that it is a shame that it was marketed in such a way. Attempting to deceive viewers into watching the film they will probably not enjoy seems a completely fruitless act. There can be no solace in the failure of marketing men either. It’s the film and the viewers which suffer; a very good film was practically wasted because of marketing ineptitude.

This is not the first time this has annoyed me and there are countless examples. The posters for horror comedy Jennifer’s Body portrayed it as simply a vehicle for pubescent teens to stare at Megan Fox while the film itself strayed away from the misogyny apparent in the Transformers franchise. There was also controversy over recently film The road. While the film itself was a satisfyingly grim tale of human defiance the marketing campaign attempted to portray it as some sort of Roland Emmerich style end of the world disaster movie. This needs to stop. Marketing the more subversive end of Hollywood’s output to appeal to the lowest common denominator alienates everyone. While the intended audience is driven away from the film, many who do see it feel they have been conned into doing so. There is little doubt that sequels and comedies are the films which will help the studios ride through the recession; however this doesn’t mean that every film attempting to break from tried and tested formula needs to be portrayed as such. No country for old men and There will be blood proved that there was a market for well thought out blockbuster Hollywood productions and even though the studios cant take risks on such films anymore it doesn’t mean they should alienate films which attempt to do so. Portraying films as they are benefits everyone; put the creativity into the films, not into their advertising.

By Sam