Review: The Eagle

The Eagle (Kevin MacDonald) 

Last night I went to the European Premiere of The Eagle, directed by Glasgow-born documentarist turned feature filmmaker Kevin MacDonald (The Last King of Scotland, State of Play)

Where do I begin? This film actually angered me, and not in a good way.  

Set in 140AD, the film charts the (questionably) courageous quest of Marcus Aquila (Channing Tatum) to retrieve Rome's emblematic golden eagle  from the Scottish Highlands. The eagle, having been lost 20 years earlier by Marcus' father who commanded the ninth-legion, represents 'all that is Rome' and an opportunity for the protagonist to redeem his family's honour. Sound good? Well it wasn't. 

Conventional Hollywood films tend to have a distinct polarity between 'goodies' and 'baddies' - the old cowboys and indians dichotomy. It's a comfortable framework that of course lacks the complexity and sophistication of less mainstream films, but it generally works in its big budget, big audience, context. The Eagle attempts this polar dynamic, but it fails epically - certainly in a British context. Let me explain why. 

The Roman's of course speak with American accents. Producer, Duncan Kentworthy (the special guest at the event), introduced the film with a 'heads up' on the Americanization of Rome, stating that this was intended to reflect the invasive nature of contemporary America. C'mon, we're an intelligent audience who know fine well why there's a dominant American angle. Box office!. And that's ok, it's not the first time!

However, the problem is that the Roman's (Americans) aren't the 'bad guys' in this film. They're the ones we're suppose to be rooting for. This is made clear by the decision to make the northerners child-slaughtering Gaelic speakers - just to ensure audiences are sitting on the right side of the fence. The language barrier is a blatant technique used to remove audience empathy for the natives, and a shlock one at that. 

Well, I was rooting for my fellow barbarians. And this wasn't solely because it resonated with me on a national level, it's because the film fails to ignite any sympathy for the Romans; rapists, pillagers and colonizers. The only emotional subplot (and I'm hasten to call it that) is the honorary quest of a son to redeem the honor of his shamed father and a forced and under-developed camaraderie between master (Tatum) and slave (Jamie Bell). The story has no morality whatsoever; Eska (Bell) is essentially a traitor and Marcus (Tatum) is a Roman who lacks any real compassion. Tell me; who are the 'baddies' here? Yeah, it's confusing. 

Visually the film has an enjoyable grittiness. The camera work has a docu-feel  which is unsurprising given Macdonald's background. And the costumes are good I suppose. However, when reviewers start talking about editing, cinematography and costume, it's usually an indicator that the film has failed in crucial areas (characters, narrative, plot). This film failed in all three. 

If you're going to be conventional, be conventional. If you're going to be complex, be complex. This film is neither. A confused narrative with discreditable characters and overt US-ideology. The Eagle might fly with American mainstream audiences, but for me, and anyone who is even remotely cine-literate, it took an epic nose-dive. Not the type of film I want to see made by a Scottish director. 

I'd be VERY VERY interested to hear from American viewers. Please comment!


Filmdocta prescribes one star. 

Oscar Predictions

83rd Academy Award Presenters,
James Franco & Anne Hathaway

It's Oscar day! It's Oscar day! I've been up since 9am and despite the limited brainpower it took to make a cup of tea, I've thought of little else this morning. To contextualise this excitement; when I was seven years old, I remember watching the awards with my dad. As the faces of five nominees came on screen, I focused on Whoopi Goldberg in those few, long, moments before Denzel Washington opened the envelope bearing the name of the Best Supporting Actress (1990). She wasn't smiling. Her eyes looked dead and her lips were all tight. She looked so sad and I couldn't understand why.

Then joy! Absolute unrestrained, unashamed, graceless joy! Jumping, cuddling, air-punching - framed in sentiment by the Ghost theme song. And I started sobbing. That's the moment I fell in love with the Oscars. Even fifteen years later, as I stood on Hollywood Boulevard transfixed on the Kodak Theatre I remembered Whoopi, the girl from the projects who became a star. I'm aware this posits me as a big old star-gazing, rags-to-riches, romantic, who, having revisited Whoopi's speech for the purpose of this blog, cried again this morning. What can I say? I'm Scottish, a genetic sentimentalist who tends not to mix bagpipes and mascara. 

So, in 12 hours, having rushed home from Glasgow Film Festival's Closing Gala, I'll be perched on the sofa with a glass of wine in my jammies and red lippy (have to make an effort!) as the world's movie gliterati congregate in the Kodak Theatre for the 83rd Academy Awards. Will it be a gloriously British night (the Kings Speech has 12 nominations)? Or will we see a distinct sidestep from the BAFTA Awards with our Americano chums taking centre stage at their own party? Here are my predictions, but first let's have a  whistle-stop retrospective of the last six years.

In 2005, the night belonged to Clint Eastwood et al as Million Dollar Baby reaped glory winning four categories. The following year (2006) revealed a more scattered result; it was the last time Best Picture (Crash) and Best Director (Ang Lee Brokeback Mountain) differed. In 2007 Scorsese's Departed went to town scooping four categories. And 2008 was the year of the Coen as No Country for Old Men took home four statuettes. Last year of course, the Brits bit back with our very own Danny Boyle smashing records with Slumdog Millionaire taking home eight wee golden men. I don't see 2009 repeating itself this evening, I think tonight will be more scattered most notably between The Social Network and The King's Speech. Here's how I think it will all pan out...   

** Best Picture ** 

The Social Network

I'd like to see The King's Speech snatch it but I think The Social Network will come up trumps in light of its importance as a major cultural commentary of our time. Black Swan is visually amazing (I can see it picking up cinematography) but I think it's too superficial for a Best Picture win. And Toy Story 3 - whit!?

** Best Director **  

David Fincher (Social Network)

I don't think we'll have a repeat of 2006. Best Picture and Best Director will go hand-in-hand this year. I see a disapointing night for Aronofsky, which is a shame considering he should've been nominated for The Wrestler last year. 

** Actor in a Leading Role ** 

Colin Firth (The King's Speech)

A really tough category so it's hard to gauge. Certainly, Jeff Bridges will be praying that, after 5 previous nominations, this will be his night, but I can't see it. While Javier Bardem will be be hoping to up his supporting win (2007) to a lead win, again don't think so. It would be interesting to see James Franco pick up the award in the midst of presenting, but again I don't see it happening. Go Bertie!

** Actor in a Supporting Role **

Christian Bale (The Fighter)

I haven't actually seen The Fighter, but gauging media coverage and clips I've seen of Bale as as skinny crack addict, I think it'll be his night.  He didn't get a nomination for American Psycho (2000) or The Machinist (2004), in both of which he gave  incredible performances, so I'd like to see him win (even though he's a right dick).

** Actress in a Leading Role ** 

Annette Benning (The Kid's are Alright)

For me it's a weak category. In want Michelle Williams to win but I doubt it'll happen. As long as Portman or Kidman lose out I'll be happy; over-hyped (Black Swan) and overrated (Rabbit Hole). 

** Actress in a Supporting Role ** 

Hailee Steinfeld (True Grit)

Stronger than the lead category, I'd say! My guess is that where 'newbies' Eisenberg and Lawrence lose out, young Steinfeld will rein victorious. I'd like to see Helena Botham-Carter or Jacki Weaver take it but if the youngster scoops it - as I predict - then smiles all round. 

** Foreign Language Film ** 

Biutiful 

I've only saw two of the nominations but I'd bet my last dollar that Iñárritu's hard-hitting drama goes home with this trophy.

** Writing (Adapted Screenplay)**  

127 hours 

Here's hoping 127 hours picks up something. I truly loved this film and if it hadn't been for such an amazing year in film then it surely would've had a night of glory after glory. It could pick up the editing prize, and I'm shocked to hell it wasn't a nominee in cinematography. 

** Writing (Original Screenplay) ** 

The King's Speech 

Although I'd love to see Mike Leigh scoop it for Another Year, I'm doubtful. 

Feel free to comment on my predictions below - call me an idiot, a prophet, a filmic fool. Or offer your own predictions. Enjoy the show, tune in at 11.30pm on Sky HD Living. For now, I'm off to see Tiny Furniture and The Eagle (if I can sneak into a full-house!). 

On the beat: The List Surprise Film revealed

Well, The List's Surprise Film was neither Country Strong, Brighton Rock or Conviction or True Grit for that matter, which means another year passes with me being way off the mark with my guestimations. Damn it! One day I'll nail the beast. 

So, what was it you ask? Well Adam Sandler didn't feature. Neither did Aniston or Kutcher. In some respects it was worse. Remember me saying sci-fi films weren't my bag, well there's one other genre that completely fails to tickle my proverbial fancy. Samurai films. Yes, you guessed it! The List's Surprise movie this year was 13 Assassins, the new blood-filled flick by Takashi Miike in UK cinemas 15 April. 

'Surprised the hell out its audience'

Now, I can't say that the List made a 'bad' call this year. The film certainly served its purpose by surprising the hell out of the audience. As the japanese title came on screen, there was a unanimous giggle, and at least four people left five minutes in. I guess samurai subject matter requires such a specific taste that it's difficult to please everyone. And I hear the echo of my own words: 'film festivals are about genre experimentation.' The problem for me was - aside from finding the genre a tad tedious, with the exception of Memoirs of a Geisha - that after a long day of back-to-back films, it just wasn't what I needed. This of course would not have been the case for the rest of the audience (journalists aside). My problem is that samurai films require a certain degree of concentration in terms of context and character. They're so fast-paced and almost always have an ensemble cast with wonderfully difficult names. So by 9.20pm, after four films (two of which were subtitled), I didn't know my Shinzaemons from my Shinroukos. Or my Oguras from my Otakes. 

So, I did that thing that I (almost) never do (well, aside from Autograph at this year's fest, which was just heinously bad). I left 35 mins in. In terms of my 'purpose' at the festival, I'd done my bit at the screening. I'd observed the (diverse) audience and gauged the general reaction to the 'big reveal'. So in that respect I'd done my 'job' as it were. Plus, I'd attended with a friend who had some juicy gossip, so the pub and a glass of vino were a-calling. I then spent all of today feeling guilty about my abandonment. Like I'd not given it a chance. So... I pledge to watch the film in its entirety. When it comes on Sky of course!

So, you win some, you lose some. And my leaving should bear no reflection on the quality of the film. The two main characters (Shinzaemons and Shinroukos) were intriguing and the whole process of recruiting the other 11 assassins was engrossing. And the fact still remains. There is nothing more exciting than the few moments, just after the lights dip, while you wait anxiously to see what lies in store. Unfortunately it was swords, subtitles and lots of gore. 

Off topic: its festival-related

Here's my first off-topic post, but I just couldn't resist. Plus it's festival related, and well, music and film go hand-in-hand anyway, right? Plus, GFF is screening You Instead, the new Mackenzie flick filmed at T in the Park, so there's some not-so-tenuous links there, I'd say. 

Today I bought my T in the Park ticket. So I started reflecting on bygone memories of Balado, and thought I'd share one of my (many) disasters at T in the Park, in poetic form of course... 

Shoeless in Balado 

Here lies a tale of T in the Park 

At times it is gritty. At times it is stark. 

It begins on a night in 2009.

Full of high spirits and full of white wine. 

After yummy stovies at Healthy T

I look to the sky and what do I see?

Wah Wah is calling, a blue billowing peak 

A skip in my step, The Courteeners I seek. 

The crowd it is charged, electric the mood 

Screams they arise for the sounds of St Jude. 

Race to the front, our space we do share. 

Then up comes a cup. And I've urine-scented hair. 

The sway it is heavy. The beat it does drop 

There goes my balance. Off comes my flip-flop.  

The lads they are brilliance. The rest they out-do 

I’m psyched and alive, pissy hair and one shoe. 

But bands they are plenty, so what should I do?

Then an answer's bestowed: 'You need a makeshift shoe!'

With only raw materials, our skills are truly tested.  

Voilà! ‘Tis a shoe where a pizza once was rested!

On the beat: Glasgow Film Festival, a quicky

We're nearly half-way there. It's Day Seven of GFF 2011. Here's a quick summary of my experience so far; energetic audiences and amazing programming. Over the last six days my filmic palate has sampled Potiche, Howl, Kramer vs. Kramer (twice), Island, Little White Lies, Autograph, Archipelago, The African Queen (remastered), Submarine, Udaan and many many short films. Reviews will be up in the next few days. There has been many highs (notably Little White Lies, The African Queen, Howl) and very few lows (Autograph, Island). Always a good ratio when you're seeing so many movies back to back. 

Tonight I'm seeing Route Irish followed by a Q&A with Ken Loach and producer Rebecca O'Brien. Then there's The List's Surprise film. My predictions are: Brighton Rock or Country Strong, although I'm not ruling out Conviction or True Grit. I seriously get way too excited about surprise screenings, the List's film has therefore been one of my GFF highlight's for the last two years - let's hope it's a good 'un. I'll really accept anything that's lacking Adam Sandler or/and Jennifer Aniston. And if it's not too much trouble, can Ashton Kutcher also be an absentee? Come back tomorrow to find out if my predictions were bang on, or way off.  


But before all this, in 15 mins I'm heading down to CCA to a workshop with Mark Miller where I'll learn the art of writing for graphic novels. 


Coming up in the new two days...
Tomorrow: Bridges of Madison County, Life, Above All, Balibo, Animal Kingdom
Friday: Kitty Foyle, Pamm Hogg, You Instead. 

On the beat: Launch Party for GYFF

Paul (Greg Mottola)
I possess nilch sci-fi cred. I rated Shaun of the Dead as mediocre and thought Hot Fuzz was overrated by folk who felt 'liking it' was cooler than the film ever was. I didn't see Star Wars until I was twenty five. Up until Halloween last year, I'd thought Hans Solo and Luke Skywalker were the same person (I was corrected by someone dressed as Hans Solo, or was it Luke?). Then there's Jay and Silent Bob, a duo that made me want to decapitate every teenage boy I encountered throughout the early noughties. So it's difficult to review a movie that sits in a genre you know very little about. In this case sci-fi nerdzy films. However, I said I'd make an effort to charter unchartered ground at this year's GFF. And my journey has begun. That said, I posit this here posty as less of a review and more of an overview of my evening in an milieu alien to me.

So, tonight I ventured along to the launch party for Glasgow Youth Film Festival (GYFF) for the preview screening of Paul, the new Pegg-Frost flick out on Valentine's Day. Free wine, what can I say!

The night began with an introduction from the youth team, who programme and administer the entire mini-fest. They turned up clad in superhero get-up. We had Darth Vader of course!, Superman, Dangermouse and Marge Simpson, a close friend whom I recently quoted in my thesis. The teens kicked off with a giveaway for audience members sitting in seats dedicated to Dr Seusss and, err, another person... let's say Hans Solo for arguments sake. And then came a video-clip from the comedy duo themselves (not Jay and SB thankfully). Pegg and Frost apologised for not being there (of course) and provided enough kudos for GYFF to have a rather spectacled crowd go wild.

Then came the film, which opens at Comic-Con (must get along to that some day). To summarise, the story charts a road trip across the US taken by nerd Brits Graeme (Pegg) and Clive (Frost), during which they encounter an alien, Paul (voiced by Seth Rogen) who has escaped from a US military base where he's been undergoing tests for 60 years. They save the day. Alien goes home. Yada yada yada. Think ET but the bicycle is a rented RV.

But mock not. To my surprise, it was quite good. Although I didn't laugh quite as much as the chick beside me (a leg-slapper in a Ming the Merciless tee), I found myself chuckling away at a reasonably good script. Of course there were lots of in-jokes that made me feel a little alienated (sorry!), but generally I was into it. It was clever in parts. And the timing was bang on, particularly by Rogen. At some points it reminded me of absurdist theatre, those little physical funnies (mild Slapstick) that are either totally lost or exhausted to hell in film. They of course overdo the 'no homo' card and I believe the word 'balls' got far too many giggles from a late-teen crowd, but hey, I suppose balls are actually quite funny, particularly alien balls. And a predictable, but rightly so, climax! After several references to Predator throughout, who else should be revealed as the ultimate villain whose voice we'd only heard so far? Sigourney Weaver of course!. Luckily she gets squished by Paul's bulb-headed buddies, and it's smiles all-round.

Overall, a good night and a decent film, but the best part of the evening was the vocal audience. Sometimes arthouse cinema can be a little too sober, so it was a joy to see a little life injected into the space. And of course, I did get to see some real aliens on Sauchiehall Street afterwards.

Filmdocta prescribes 3 stars
Apologies for the plethora of puns.

Done in 60 seconds: Blue Valentine

It sure as f*ck hurts

Blue Valentine (Derek Cianfrance)
trailer 


I'm gonna be honest. Blue Valentine is my film of 2011 so far. And it's gonna take some beating. I enjoy a dose of perplexity, and this film forced me to ask myself; what actually makes a great film? 

  

It depicts the torturous breakdown of a young couple's marriage to absolute nothingness. We see Cindy (Williams) and Dean (Gosling) fall both in and out of love, as the film oscillates between present day mundanity and flashbacks of hedonistic courtship. Flashbacks show quirky serenades, most notably a scene where Dean sings the somewhat prophetic 'You Only Hurt the Ones You Love' to a tap-dancing Cindy (the signature trailer scene). Nowadays, the couple exchange few words and glance blankly at one another. We go from HOT, HOT, sex (which made me grateful I wasn't watching with the parentals), to drunk-filled hate romps against a saturated backdrop of a sleazy motel room. I'm all about narrative normally, but it's the tense atmosphere - lack of dialogue and grainy cinematics - that make this story so glorious. 

And the performances; excruciatingly brilliant. A wounded and hopeless Gosling (boasting that same fragility of Noah in The Notebook) is mirrored by a reticent and cold Williams. The tension between the couple is at times almost unbearable. Once-upon-a-time Dean filled Cindy with lust, now his very touch makes her skin crawl.  I was tortured by Dean's desperation, suffocated by the invasive cinematography (Andrij Parekh) and harrowed by Cindy's emptiness. It's a tough one that shatters and smashes 'love story' conventions. It's no Notebook girlies. Put simply,  it's no fairytale. 

Ok, so it's not fun. It rarely makes you smile, and when it does it's smiles of sadness for the story it could have been. So what the hell makes it so great? 

Firstly, it presents the most sincere portrayal of the fatality of love to come out of a revived fashionable narrative - unrequited love (Revolutionary Road, 500 Days of Summer). It's relentless and raw. Shot in a grimy docu-style that makes you feel like a voyeur watching two lost souls torture one another. It's emotive. The performances are so intricate and wounding they alone make it a must-see. Finally, it has a simple, but intelligent, dualism. Because the truth is that sometimes we're madly in love and the next moment we're not. How'd that happen we ask? 

A film has to make me feel to be great. Who knows why we fall out of love! This film doesn't tell us why. But what it shows, is that it happens. And that it sure as f*ck hurts. 

Bitter without the sweet, filmdocta prescribes 5 stars.