O Brother, Where Art Thou (2000)

“I slaughtered this horse last Tuesday. I'm afraid she's startin' to turn."

I've blogged close to 600 films but, to my shame, nothing by the Coen Brothers until now. Yes, I know. And I’m suitably rebuked by how extraordinarily wonderful this film is. It manages to work both as a magnificent piece of art and as splendidly entertaining drama.

So yes, the sepia-tinged cinematography is impressive, and yes, the influence of The Odyssey is obvious- Big Dan is a hostile one-eyed giant, there are literal sirens, there may not be literal transmogrification but Delmarvis convinced that Pete has been turned into a frog, and of course (Ulysses)- who arrogantly refuses help, especially from (the) God(s), is desperate to get back home before a suitor marries his wife.

But the film is really a splendid mix of picaresque encounters and ongoing character development which shows the grim, Depression-era state of Mississippi in all its deeply racist, superstitious and corrupt barbarism. This depressing setting is leavened by lots and lots of wonderful humour, hiding a pessimistic message under its sugar; the evil, Ku Klux Klan cultist politician is the reformer, and his downfall leads to the corrupt incumbent cynically using the Soggy Bottom Boys to continue his cronyism, pardoning then at a stroke but not necessarily improving the lives of his constituents. But that evil secret society is still there and still lynching, prison conditions are abhorrently barbaric, with convicts breaking rocks pointlessly all day while the black ones are called “boy”, and desperate poverty pervades everything.

But against that is music, which makes life worth living, and so we have one of the greatest soundtracks in cinematic history. It is everywhere, giving much-needed colour to everyone’s lives. And so this film, about deeply desperate and suffering lives, which offers little hope, manages to be uplifting in spite of it all. A truly great film.

The Incredibles 2 (2018)

"I renounce my renunciation!"

 I watched this film over the weekend with Mrs Llamastrangler and Little Miss Llamastrangler, who is now rather obsessed with Elastigirl. This is, of course, a rather fun little film which has similar fun with superhero tropes as the last movie. It’s a splendid film, this time focusing on Elastigirl leading the heroics while Mr Incredible struggles with handling the domestics at home.

So, yes, one point for trying to be feminist and minus one for continuing the trope of men being hapless in the domestic sphere. Still, it’s funny, witty and charming and had us all entertained. The plot, revolving around the villainous and Saw-like (in a kid-friendly way) Screenslaver, and the tantalising prospect of superheroics being legal again, is also fun, even if the real baddie’s identity is rather obvious if you happen to be 41 rather than four.

Oh, and Jack-Jack now has an astounding number of powers. Good luck with raising that child, although the scenes of Bob trying to control the little sod are rather amusing. You finish the film rather satisfied by an entertaining and well-constructed piece of entertainment. Maybe one day we will have a real Fantastic Four movie that’s this good.

Is it me, though, or does tycoon superhero fan Winston look just like Lee Mack?

The Incredibles (2004)

"And machine washable, darling. That's a new feature."

I'd say that, of the Fantastic Four films I've seen, this is my favourite.

I'm being facetious, of course, but we have a team who are super strong, stretchy, invisible AND with invisible force fields, and the baby's first superpower display is to flame on. Although I don't believe the Whizzer ever graced the pages of the World's Greatest Comics Magazine. But come on, we even have a thinly veiled Mole Man at the end...

Cheeky tributes aside, though, this is wonderful; a realistic attempt at doing the superhero genre in a real-ish world, but as a Pixar cartoon; Watchmen for kids. It has fun with the tropes and may indeed be influenced by a funny book called How to be a Superhero by Mike Leigh and Mike Lepine, which I recommend most heartily to all.

And isn't Bob an everyman? Aren't we all superheroes who heroically keep at the day job, day after day? I suppose, on that front, the film is a bit conservative on the gender roles front, with Elastigirl a stay-at-home mum, but there's very little bad to say about this entertaining little family film.

Crash (1996)

"The car crash is a fertilising rather than destructive event."

This strange, disturbing yet beautiful film is, unforgivably, the first David Cronenberg film I've done for this blog; there will most definitely be more. This film caused a great deal of fuss at the time because of it's subject matter, but I assume we are all grown up non-Daily Mail readers who accept that sex is part of life and we all have our fetishes. The difference here, of course, is that the fetish in question is dangerous to both the participants and others; one cannot reasonably accuse the authorities of intolerance.

Indeed, the film makes no attempt to get us to sympathise with its protagonists; we are as alienated from them as they are from society. And yet, although the film has been relocated to Canada, the main character is named "James Ballard" as per J.G. Ballard's novel which, I must confess, I have not yet read. This is an interesting decision: why does the author choose to identify himself with such a character?

I suspect the answer lies in what the novel and film have to say about society. Cronenberg shows us an unremittingly urban landscape, a world of buildings and freeways and automobiles in which nature is seldom to be seen. Our characters- Ballard, his wife Catherine, the widowed Helen, the creepy Vaughan, the broken Gabrielle and the nihilistic Seagrave, exist in a very urban world where the individual is not in any way part of a wider community and where it is possible to associate only with people like oneself. All of those characters shown to be sexually active are polyamorous, in open relationships, with heavy hints towards bisexuality. Even sex is removed from any sense of human connection.

Without connections to society or any feelings of love, sex becomes mechanistic and nihilistic, pure instinct. And, while urbanisation is a clear theme, I think the main point here is a link between sec and death, with our characters' sex drives linking to their death drives.

Because that is what our characters have; death as a fetish. Seagrave is the prime example, found dead by Vaughan having re-enacted the death of Jayne Mansfield without him. And the last scene  shows Ballard comforting Catherine after the crash fails to kill her: "Maybe the next one, darling." And then they have sex beside the crashed car.

Probably the highlight of the film is a massive car crash which is treated by the camera as porn, a hugely effective clash of style and content as the camera lingers erotically over buckled bonnets and bloodied faces while even the soundtrack tries to tell us we are watching porn.

I cannot identify with this link between sex and death. Sex is not death; it creates life. Sex is two fingers up at the Reaper. But this is a beautifully developed motif, and this is a beautiful and philosophical work of art that deserves all the praise it gets. 

Thirteen (2004)

“I think my nose is melting off. Ew!”

This is a film I most likely never would have seen if my gorgeous girlfriend hadn’t introduced me to it a few days ago; thirteen girls in 2004 are a very alien species to a thirteen year old boy from 1990. It is, as one would imagine, a rather scary watch for someone who expects to become a father in a few years’ time. I should probably admit that a fair few of the thoughts in this review, especially about the direction, are shamelessly nicked off things said by my girlfriend while we were watching it.

This is helmed by Catherine Hardwicke, who did a rather unimpressive job in directing Twilight, which was largely ruined by the dullness of the washed-out colour. Here she does a much better job but, interestingly, what works so well here is very similar to what failed in the other film, namely the use of colour. At the beginning of the film, with Tracy doing well at school and living a safe and relatively happy life, the film is brightly coloured. But the colours wash away throughout the film until, at the end, there is nothing but a blue tint. There is also a billboard which becomes more and more distressed-looking, mirroring Tracy’s decline as a kind of Dorian Gray painting in reverse.

This isn’t a pleasant film to watch. The actresses may have been eighteen, but it’s extremely disturbing to see thirteen year olds being so sexualised. The peer pressure is awful too; I may not have been one of the cooler kids at thirteen, but I never wore any designer labels or the like; I dressed like the child that I was. Still, I don’t exactly wear designer labels now, so I’m probably not typical. I’m uncomfortably reminded of the fact (I’m 35) that I’m not as young as I was. But I’m reminded of a simple fact: being a teenager is horrible, and too many of us forget that later in our lives. Intense pressure from all sides is combined with a total lack of experience in how to handle this, plus there are hormones on top.

There’s use of LSD and cocaine in this film, shoplifting, a certain amount of sexual activity and, worst of all, graphic and horrible instances of self-harm. There’s thankfully no paedo stuff or sexual abuse, but everything else that parents worry about is here. Most terrifying of all is the powerless of Tracy’s well-meaning but weak mother, who has no way of responding to her daughter’s tantrums and, worse, has a fair idea of what is going on throughout. The climax, when she discovers her daughter’s drug abuse and scars from self-harm, is utterly terrifying to watch. Depressingly, Tracy’s father, well-off though he is, is neglectful and useless. Once again it’s the woman who has to cope while the man does nothing.

The fickle nature of teenage friendships, and their terrible cost, lies at the film’s core, as Tracy’s new “bad girl” friend Evie betrays her. Yet there are shades of grey; Evie’s claims of abuse may easily be true. There are no easy answers, and there is no resolution at the end, a brave choice.

This isn’t a film to enjoy. It’s natural audience may, perhaps, be limited, and I worry about its central message being scarily easy to Daily Mail-ify. Nevertheless, it’s an extremely well-made film. What didn't impress me, though, was the lack of subtitles on the DVD: there's no excuse for this.