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?)

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Road: Movie Review

It’s inspiring when a film comes to define a genre. When one thinks of post apocalyptic film, Mad Max Two (1981) comes to mind, embodying both the portentous uncivilised nature of a future without law, but also the fashionable violence expected with an action film. However when a film subverts convention and transcends genre, something completely unique can happen. I make no secret of the fact that I love post apocalyptic films, something about the escapism coupled with the heroics and fetishistic attitude to clothes and guns is made extraordinarily appealing by the benchmarks of the genre, and despite words to the contrary I expected from The Road something similar, if more nihilistic: but what I got was something quite different.

Set years after an unnamed ecological disaster, one that dulled the sky and killed almost all plants, animals and people, a Father (Viggo Mortensen) and Son (Kodi Smit-McPhee) travel across Middle America, heading to the south coast in the hope that it will yield some sort of rescue or hope. The scarred landscape is populated by roving gangs, driven to cannibalism and acts of horrendous violence just to stay alive; and as the human race slowly dies out, the man and boy try to stave off illness, starvation and the constant threat of abduction or murder so they can reach the sea.

To say this film is depressing would be to miss the point entirely. Certainly the bleak outlook and difficult subject matter carries with it hard moral baggage, but the film is eye-opening more than downright crushing. To a fan of post apocalyptic movies, The Road came as a shock particularly to me, as its realistic attitude to the depths that people will sink; the Darwinian survival instinct of humanity that leads us to depart from our ethical sensibilities to survive is utterly distressing. The Road is superbly acted, Viggo Mortensen adding another fantastic performance to his increasingly impressive repertoire, and the young boy is an excellent find, conveying the fear, sadness and distress that a daily life full of death and hopelessness would produce. The moments of happiness and love are few and far between, but have a power and weight far beyond that of any other post apocalyptic film. The film’s tone can be extraordinarily bleak at times, but the affecting story, wonderful direction and great performances make for an extremely powerful film, and an eye-opening reality check for fans of post apocalyptic fiction.

By Alastair

Book of Eli: Movie Review

I love the end of the world. It’s what keeps me going in this day and age, and whenever I feel down, it’s great to stick on my copy of A Boy and His Dog (1975), Escape from New York (1981) or Mad Max 2 (1981), and revel in the fact that, despite unemployment, poverty and the continued dominance of reality television, the world isn’t this bad. Book of Eli is the new film from the Hughes brothers, directors of the critically acclaimed Menace II Society (1993) and the largely misunderstood From Hell (2001), it takes place in a post apocalyptic world where plot and character development have almost died out.

Years after an unspecified war, a war that burnt and scarred the landscape of America, and left most of the population either blind or dead, Eli (Denzel Washington) travels the wasteland heading only ‘west’, to find a place to keep safe the titular book that he carries with him. After arriving in a small settlement, Eli is accosted in a bar by some thugs, and after a fight he stands the victor, only to be offered a job by the bar’s owner Carnegie (Gary Oldman). Refusing, Eli takes shelter in the settlement, and Carnegie finds out that the book he carries is the one that he has wanted for years, and a game of cat and mouse begins.

The film began really well, I mean really well. The fight scenes were fabulous, the look of the world that the characters inhabited looked great and Eli’s quiet spoken hero reminded me of the Clint Eastwood ‘man-with-no-name’ characters in Segio Leone’s Dollar’s trilogy. Once Eli arrives at Carnegie’s bar however, things start to go downhill extraordinarily quickly. Gary Oldman is a wonderful actor, and I’m sure I would have enjoyed his performance more if he hadn’t spent the entire film mumbling, the Mila Kunis character is just awful, and the supporting cast try their best, but the religious overtones of the film drown what was initially an interesting plot and kill whatever tension and mystery there was about Eli. The themes of the preservation of knowledge and literature are all fine and good, but the attitude with which the Hughes brothers approach religious morality is extraordinarily naïve. Actors are wasted, not only the aforementioned Gary Oldman but Michael Gambon appears too, for the briefest five minutes or so; and even Malcolm McDowall turns up at the end. So many great actors, such a well trodden and fun premise, why did they have waste the film focussed on the ranting loon and his annoying girlfriend? The first half of the film is passable, but the steep decline after makes you wonder just where all the energy of the pitch-perfect opening sequence went.

Alastair

Review: Spoon- Transference

John Peel once said of the Fall that they are ‘always different, always the same’ and the same can be said of Spoon. Despite on the face of it being a fairly standard alternative rock act, over the past seventeen years Spoon have consistently showed off their excellent craftsmanship and production abilities. Their failure to diversify into different styles has never been an issue; each album has built on the previous, tweaking little bits here and there but never with any wholesale change. Britt Daniel always keeps the ship upright and while contemporaries have diverged Spoon have been a constant. Perhaps the biggest shock given this then is that Spoon have not tired, the release of Transference still holds excitement even if I know what’s coming. The joy is the intrigue rather than the surprise. Spoon are the proof that sustaining a long career neither relies on constant mediocrity or pointless change and although never finding mainstream success they seem to consistently provide comfort and surprise in equal measure for their loyal fan base.

While 2005’s Gimme Fiction was the album of exuberant joy (at least in terms of Spoon), Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga was a return to sublime understatement. Gimme Fiction provided thrills and spills on the first listen while Ga Ga was the slow burner; a more introspective but ultimately more rewarding endeavour. Transference is closer to the latter than the former while still the result of the subtle evolution which Spoon have become known for. It probably doesn’t quite hit the heights of the previous album though every time I’ve listened so far I find something new and intriguing. I’ve played the whole thing through about ten times and have found increased enjoyment each time it is plays, who knows? It could be better than Ga Ga.

Although opener Before destruction is fairly standard in terms of the band, Is love forever? is where production trickery really comes to the forefront. The vocals seem more pronounced and the vibrato vocal is captivating, sitting somewhere in-between melody and rhythm it has an understated charm. Every Spoon album seems to have one track which deviates from the rest, the one track which most other bands could base a whole career around. On Ga Ga it was the ethereal The ghost of you lingers, Transference’s equivalent is The mystery zone, creating groove through repetition, with bass high in the mix, the result is some kind of subdued funk. If you didn’t know Spoon better you could almost dance to this. Who makes your money is similar but more restrained however the album then makes somewhat of a turn.

The next few songs are a return to a more familiar style; the album picks up pace and when Britt Daniel growls ‘I’m not standing here’ it seems a metaphor for the album. Anticipation is built through repetitive guitar riffs and the music progresses in terms of feel and tempo. It’s an easy trap to confuse earnestness with passion and one which Spoon sometime play with. However, they seem to consistently reach the limit and pull back; the best example of this is on ‘I saw the light’, whilst being somewhat of a slow burner it refuses to explode and is all the better for it. So often subtlety is used as a byword for blandness however in Spoon’s case subtle is what they do best.

When Transference enters its third act it becomes somewhat more accessible; they’ve earned their right to let loose a little and they carry it out in style. The final tracks on the album seem to rely less on production and the composition shows a more natural ear for melody. Trouble comes running and Got nuffin are highly infectious preventing the album from becoming overly introspective. Final track nobody gets me but you provides a perfect epilogue to the album seeming like an amalgamation of all the styles and interests of the previous ten tracks.

Transference may not be the best work of Britt Daniel and co. but that can hardly be a criticism. Showing an ability to grow and evolve without altering the core values of your music is no mean feat for a band celebrating their seventh album. Neither is creating eleven understated gems and there is not a single duff track on this album. As a result the initial inaccessibility of the album is rewarded with further listens, its flow is one of its greater benefits and the use of repetition really allows it get under your skin. We’re only two weeks into 2010 however I’d be surprised if this isn’t there or there abouts in the end of year best of lists.

Postapocalyptia: A triumphant return for the Post Apocalyptic film?

Is it a horrendously sad and dangerous time when a civilisation becomes infatuated with its own destruction? The 2000’s saw a resurgence of movies focusing on end of the world scenarios, particularly those involving undead cannibals, and video games like Fallout 3 have brought about a fresh interest in the genre; but mainstream cinema has not seen the like of The Road and Book of Eli since at least the early 1980’s.

The very idea of post apocalyptic fiction is that it takes place after an event that laid waste to the world. However much of the focus in fiction in a world where our televisions and computer screens show us up to the second updates of news items from around the world, has been on the event. The images captured on 9/11 and other tragedies like it have haunted the minds of the world, and as a mirror on society film has attempted to capture that feeling of being amongst disaster and experiencing terror first hand. Now we come to a point in our cultural journey where we start to contemplate the consequences of our actions, the turn of the tide after disaster. Very few films recently have dealt with the fallout of a disaster, the notable exceptions being Neil Marhsall’s ode to the genre Doomsday, 2009’s Zombieland and Terminator Salvation. It does seem that such a genre has the odd entry every so often, but not until now has interest been sparked by the genre as a whole, rather than just the particular film that incorporates it.

In 1981 Mad Max Two hit the world stage, the very same year as John Carpenter’s Escape from New York was released. Both starred up and coming tough guy actors, Mel Gibson and Kurt Russell respectively, both took place in a world ruined by disaster and both became benchmarks of what would be considered the post apocalyptic film. They depicted gangs, unhindered by law or rules, hunting and preying on the weak, boasting big cars, big guns and big egos. The looks of these people who populated the post apocalyptic world has become somewhat iconic: the ragged, makeshift dress that formed the uniform of the survivors is something that has become a staple of films of this type, perhaps drawing inspiration from Walter Hill’s dystopian gang film The Warriors, war paint, goggles, gas masks and dirt became the fashion of the future.

It is to this, aesthetically at least, that Book of Eli and The Road return. Promising tales of epic quests and grand journeys through post apocalyptic wastelands, the look and feel established in such films as Mad Max Two, and smaller cult films like A Boy and His Dog (a great influence of the Fallout video game series and forerunner of films like Mad Max Two), Hardware and Le Dernier Combat, looks to make a comeback.

The genre is an infinitely interesting one, providing backdrops for allegorical stories of war, loss and environmental disaster, as well as for the exciting possibilities that a world returned to primal, medieval or even American Western sensibilities opens up. Despite the hiccups, post apocalyptic film remains a proud genre; and with the dawn of art-house dramas like The Road, and prophetic action films like Book of Eli, a whole new generation of people will be introduced to the end of the world.

By Alastair

Kid A could have achieved so much.

In the past month or so I have read perhaps a dozen or so lists that describe the best albums of the decade. Frequently at the top or there about is Radiohead’s Kid A, released all the way back in 2000. I don’t want to add another glowing review of the album (although I’m sure some of my enthusiasm will rub off) as that would be unnecessary. What I do not want to question is; given its critical success as well as being a product of one of the world’s most commercially successful acts, why did it not have a bigger crossover appeal than it did and affect mainstream culture in an enduring way. At the end of the decade, despite Radiohead being consistently popular the dent into popular culture seems minimal. I’m not seeking to deny Radiohead’s mega star status however it seems this album in particular only saturated the heights of indie-fandom, remaining the favourite of virtually every Radiohead fanatic I know whilst OK computer was the one which basked in the limelight. At this point I should add this article is not meant to be an indictment of a mainstream culture, I’m sure I could write several different articles to serve that purpose, this is simply to outline something I find to be an anomaly and try to understand the reasons why. Neither is this a justification of acts who I thought deserved to have gained widespread success. Radiohead were and are a mainstream act who achieved widespread success and to me it still feels that while OK computer has had enjoyed an enduring popular legacy, the superior Kid A has had little impact in terms of effecting popular culture.

Released in October 2000, Kid A immediately topped the British charts outselling all the other top ten albums combined. This was back in the heady days of 2000 as well when albums, although available, weren’t so easily obtained on the internet. Furthermore, it proved an equal success on the other side of the Atlantic, debuting at No. 1 selling 210,000 in its first week. Perhaps surprisingly, critical acclaim was somewhat mixed and Kid A gained much of its status through revision. Take for example Drowned in Sounds 2009 article ‘Radiohead's Kid A - the DiS re-appraisal’ where they accepted ‘the shameful knowledge DiS awarded Kid A a scathing 4/10, way-back-when’. There were rave reviews at the time; however it seems facile to concentrate too much on critical reception when this piece is meant to be about its failure to cross into mainstream culture; a place where popularity has never relied on opinion leaders

Perhaps I should justify why I feel this way. Looking back, there appeared to be some genuinely exciting mainstream British music in the early 90’s (I would have been a toddler then so perhaps this is based on nostalgia). However, Britpop threw the nation back into an era of sterility and increasingly dull ideas. I can’t deny that millions of people didn’t enjoy the sing-a- long choruses that Oasis consistently provided and I can’t claim I didn’t for some time either. Revisiting those songs though I find nothing but laddishness and stupidity. Am I being a snob? Yes, of course I am. Me criticising Oasis is a totally retrospective action. However, I never heard Kid A when it was first released, I only really started to appreciate it when I was probably around 16 (I’m 21 now). My argument is completely decontextualised, I have no idea what it may have been like to sing along to Wonderwall at Knebworth or to feel the fervent excitement of being on the verge of something new when Kid A was released. These things were based on experience and I’m not going to attempt to pretend I have that. My argument is based on me looking back at the last twenty or so years of music from a purely musical context and assessing what I feel to be the peaks and troughs.


Despite being named album the decade by the Times and Pitchfork, looking back at the successes of 2009 I see little direct influence by an album which is justly seen to be seminal. The biggest selling acts were people such as Lady Gaga, The Black eyed peas and Cheryl Cole. Ok, ill stop. I accept that there will always be some kind of disjuncture between alternative and popular culture; I don’t expect that much of Radiohead. For instance though, take La Roux, sometime who could be considered to have gained success in both the mainstream and alternative press. I see little evolutionary effect from Kid A; and this is the point where I need to do a bit of arse-licking, Kid A was the one album with mainstream success which was introspective, thoughtful, and engaging. A forward thinking departure from both their previous works as well as their mainstream contemporaries. Given this, why has the noughties been the decade of the retro throwback rather than the one of progression it could have been. It could have been the decade when innovation and progression seeped into popular culture however it was one where no innovator despite Radiohead seemed to challenge the higher echelons of the charts. I’m not saying the last decade hasn’t been one of innovation however the internet has dispersed this into increasing niches and sub-genres.

Perhaps not the greatest indicator, but one which reflects popular taste would be Channel 4’s 100 greatest albums shown back in 2006. At the time of watching I remember being vitriolic that The Smiths’ The Queen Is Dead only made number 20 but as I look back now I almost howl as OK computer sits at no.1, the bends at 22 and Kid A is nowhere in sight. I’m not annoyed at the fact someone could choose to disagree with me, actually I’m not annoyed at all, Channel 4’s 100 greatest albums is hardly a cultural leader, I just find it odd. To me Kid A seemed the perfect mix of creativity and commerce, one where the ideas existed coincidentally. Kid A showed a self conscious desire to move away from their previous ‘rock’ albums and drift away from the limelight. However, this failed, Kid A was an unbridled success but one with little popular culture impact in mainstream musical terms.

So there you go, looking back I’m disappointed that Kid A didn’t have the impact it perhaps could have despite commercial and critical success. To use a cliché though, hindsight is a wonderful thing, and without me being fully able to understand the thoughts of feelings of those who perhaps enjoyed every minute of the X factor, perhaps it’s not so surprising that Kid A hasn’t made the step over into a pop culture classic. Essentially though, I’m spoilt. OK computer has had the impact I hoped that Kid A could have had; I’m going have to accept that despite my love for Kid A it has a more popular older brother in OK computer. Radiohead are one of the biggest bands on the planet however their masterpiece still seems to be the reserve of their diehard fans. It’s a traditional tale, but one which still disappoints me.

By Sam Manning

Guilermo Del Toro, man of the decade?

Man of the decade? Okay, maybe not. If I were going to be straight up then I’d probably suggest someone such as Denis Mukwege (I suggest you look him up). But in my humble opinion this is the man who from any medium has created the broadest, most eclectic and engaging work over an extended period of time. He may be a fat Mexican; however he is certainly one of the greatest directors of this generation. Perhaps to suggest how good he is would be start with his weakest points, take Blade II; still a highly engaging piece of entertainment, easily transcending both its prequel and sequel. I don’t want to dwell on this though, its best to focus on what makes him great, and I don’t want to do this by simply giving a mini review of each film he’s directed. Neither completely oeuvre nor entertainer Del Toro has been able to transcend the gap between independent and mainstream cinema, often stating that he takes turns making a film for himself and then a film for Hollywood.

If anything the noughties was the decade of the comic book hero and the sequel. Whilst we’ve had three increasingly unfunny Shrek films, three Pirates of the Caribbean films and two frankly depressing Transformers films, The Hellboy series managed to show that to extend a franchise was not merely to sell out to the lowest common denominator. Combining Rasputin, a drunken fishman and a Northern Irish troll to superbly entertaining effect Del Toro produced two films which were genuinely funny and highly entertaining. To my mind these are the best comic book adaptations, the closest contender is inevitably Batman and, although I genuinely like Christopher Nolan’s films, they are a little too earnest and over the top for the genre. I love films which create their own worlds; however I feel a more admirable narrative is one that creates a world of exotic and bemusing characters and places them on our world in a way which seems plausible: something apparent in each of Del Toro’s five directorial works.

Surely by now, if you’re unaware of his work, you must be questioning why such a person could be named man of the decade. The answer to this is Pans Labyrinth, the 2006 fantasy set in post civil war Spain which I have no hesitation in naming the film of the decade. It is completely majestic, magical, engaging, engrossing and practically unflawed; a complete cinematic experience. It not only built on 2001’s informal prequel the Devil Backbone but transcended it. By placing the magical into intense human suffering; Del Toro used his limitless imagination to create a magical allegory which surprised, shocked and created thought in equal measure. It is not just his talent that makes Del Toro so special, it is his vision and his knowledge of what makes cinema such an engaging experience. What is also extraordinary is the way in which both sides of the coin are completely representative of this visionary director He may not have created much subversion with a film such as Hellboy but he knows how to entertain in a way which doesn’t boil down to simply emptying the pockets of fourteen year olds. On the other hand Pans Labyrinth and the Devils Backbone present cinema at its subversive best, mind altering and undeniably engaging. Perhaps I haven’t spent long enough gushing over Pans Labyrinth to merit its place as best film of the decade, however I would challenge you to simply watch it again, or perhaps for the first time and see if you can disagree. So, well done Guillermo; you’re my man of the decade, let’s see what you can do with the Hobbit.

P.S. apologies to Radiohead, Paul Thomas Anderson and a host of others.

By Sam

T.V of 2009. Or 'things you should check out on DVD if you didn't catch them this year.'

For the first blog it seems fitting to create an appraisal of 2009, if not a great year for telly then certainly, well, a year at least. Here we have a rather boring looking rundown of my top three, and a runner up, telly drama series appearing on your UK picture boxes last year.

No. 3

*Misfits (Series 1)* (Channel 4)
Unfortunately for dear old blighty, it's been rather a slow year for home-grown drama, this being the only non-American product on my list. Off to a rather high concept start, Misfits begins with a group of Skins-like teen stereotypes, twatting about on their first day of community service, when a freak storm turns them all into superheroes. But, being a British program, this is no Heroes: and the powers turn out to be much more of a curse than a blessing.

The powers that the characters get are all fairly tame, I mean, no one can fly or has super strength or anything. Some seem genuinely useless, as prissy annoying Alisha's power makes people want to have sex with her when they touch her skin. Less of a super-power, more of an 'anti-power', like poison vomit or amazing growing teeth.

But hold on, there's a message here. The teens powers are blatantly metaphorical: invisibility, the ability to turn back time, hearing others thoughts etc, and it makes an interesting allegory as we get each character's episode in turn. The dialog varies from rather hokey Skins "written by adults about kids" stuff, to genuinely fun and energetic work that surpasses any other teen drama this year, and certainly giving Misfits enough good stuff in it to make it one of my TV choices.

No. 2

*True Blood (Season 1)* (Channel 4)
Vampires have been done to death. We know it, you know it, and the creators of sexy brutal adult vampire romp True Blood most certainly knew it. It seems odd then that when watching the first few episodes, one would think that that they hadn't learnt their lesson. The blossoming romance between Sookie Stackhouse (waitress and dippy blonde with on/off telepathic abilities) and Bill Compton (Hunky Vampire prick) is at first extraordinarily Twilight, despite the amount of sex, and it takes the series at least five episodes to get going. After that point, however, it never lets go.

The characters are interesting, the setting, far from traditional vampire haunted houses etc, or even more Buffy-like suburbia, is dark and scarily real; set in a deep south America plastered with signs that read 'GOD HATES FANGS' in a biting (ho ho) political satire. Themes of racism, sexism and homophobia are covered along with the mainstays of Vampire Lore; sexually transmitted diseases, sex and death and the great void between men and women. True Blood started out cliche, but ended up bringing a whole new dimension to a rather tired genre; making it number two on my TV of 2009 list.

No. 1

*Generation Kill (Mini-Series)* (Channel 4)
Short at only seven episodes long, Generation Kill represents possibly the finest achievement in television this year. Based on the the book of the same name, initially serialised, in the very gonzo tradition, in Rolling Stone Magazine, Generation Kill follows the Second Platoon of the First Reconnaissance Battalion's Bravo Company: a humvee infantry platoon during the 2003 invasion of Iraq.

Reporter Evan Wright gets thrown into an entirely hostile battleground with main players Sergeant Brad 'Iceman' Colbert, Corporal Josh Ray Person and Lance Corporal Harold James Trombley; the soldiers who make up the humvee with which he is stationed. From the get-go Generation Kill is at the same time harrowing, scary, hilarious, portentous, unbelievably sweary and completely unforgettable. It creates great empathy in the viewer for the good soldiers of the group, and complete hatred for the bumbling, idiotic Captain Dave 'Captain America' McGraw, whose moronic choices and gung-ho attitude are distressing to say the least. Critical and satirical at its heart, Generation Kill comes to us from the team that brought us the critically acclaimed 'The Wire'. For the short time that it was on screen it grabbed your balls, twisted them and turned them until by the end you were completely exhausted, if not a little aroused. Generation Kill is by far one of the greatest events of television drama of the noughties, and that is why it takes the top spot in my greatest TV of 2009.

Runner Up

*Dollhouse (Season 2)* (Sci-Fi Channel)
An Ode to Joss Whedon
Joss, oh how I love thee. Creator of classic 90's teen vampire fun Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Hunky spin off Angel, and greatest television series ever Firefly, Joss Whedon has been having a rather bad time connecting with his public of late. After the runaway success of Buffy (Joss Whedon admits that it lasted three series after he initially wanted it to end), Angel was suddenly not renewed and Firefly only lasted a gloriouss 14 episodes.

Dollhouse was meant to be Joss's fated comeback, returning to the network that cancelled his greatest achievement way before its time (not before he had created superb action sci-fi thriller Serenity to create some closure for those fans who missed Firefly), a Dollhouse pilot was created for American entertainment network Fox. Fox butchered it and didn't air it, just as they had done with Firefly and ordered a new pilot; which was boring and samey and said nothing of the series like the lost pilot had set out to do. Because of this false start, many were put off by the boring first episodes (each consisting of Eliza Dusku in a new costume, as she plays the part of an 'active' within the 'Dollhouse', an agency for creating personalities for hire and placing them upon the unaware childlike 'actives'), and the first series had terrible ratings, despite the second half of the first series which contained some of Whedon's finest work in many people's eyes.

Despite this, a second series was commissioned; this time on a lower budget, to compensate Joss for his past losses and to give the series another chance. It was cancelled and only 13 episodes were produced, the first half airing before Christmas, the final half airing in January 2010. The second series was reasonably disappointing until the final episode of the the pre-Christmas break, which made me sad that the next few episodes would be the last. Here's hoping for Joss Whedon's career to be more lucky, and hopefully we'll be seeing more of the crew of the Serenity in the not too distant future.



Written by
Alastair