A man chooses; a slave obeys

I want to talk about violent video games. Today's issue comes with headers, to tidy up my circuitous prose.

Some History

An area which fascinates me, but only in a theoretical way as I have never lived in a house with them before. The arrival of a new housemate gave me the opportunity to properly play a console game for the first time in my life - to the general amusement of everyone else, who went through this phase age 5 or 6.

My parents were rather old fashioned on that front, and on the whole I am greatful: games do feel like a terrible drain on life. Abstractly, I believe that if a video game gives you a compelling aesthetic and narrative experience, it's no better or worse than watching a film (and that, no more than reading a book). And the ability to beat difficult games is no better or worse than any other ability (arguably, better because their effects are confined to so small a world they can never be used for evil). But in practice, less games seem to come up to my high movie watching standards, and looking back on most of my gaming experiences they seem like wasted time

A classic example would be Guitar Hero, which I played for half an hour and switched off in disgust. It is a challenging game which requires dedicated practice, but if you're going to put in that much effort why not just learn the sodding guitar? Especially because the required skillset for hitting the keys in time is far closer to playing the piano.

Belief Systems

Bioshock is a staggering exception, but I'll discuss that later. I'd like to get onto violence, and I'll preface this by saying I no longer believe in an objective "self". We have different modes of behavior we shrug on and off like clothes: Sunday best for the vicar, formalwear for family occasions, something smartcasual for work and sloppy jeans for weekends alone. From person to person, we might have different morality sets - lying to a child or a door-to-door Evangelist in a way we wouldn't to an adult or a friend. We certainly behave differently (i.e. use of swearing) and have different interests depending on the company. With all that taken into account, it seems holding any belief and claiming it is indomitable is problematic, without boiling everything down to a pragmatic "it depends". There are always exceptions, and indeed there has to be.

This might be obvious, but I'm fascinated by the sincerity behind all this. We know that habit can change people by sheer persistance. You can come to love dull activities, endlessly-repeated radio earworms and even people just because they are always there and you get used to it. With all this slipping we do to survive life, surely then we also change our own minds - our basic principles - many times a day.

I now live in two different places, and what my two groups of friends can get away with is very different. Purely because I met one aged 11, and another aged 18, and what I needed at those two times was also different. I'd like to say my metronome behavior was caused by not wanting to freak the older set out by seeming to suddenly change, but in truth it is habit. I just snap back into old patterns.

This isn't necessarily a problem, because both places make me feel at home and I'd even miss the elements of both which piss me off because hey! Friends are the people whose defects you can adore as madly as their qualities. Nevertheless, it is an interesting illustration of the point above. I now live two lives. One lot are amused by my love for violent films, the other is less about cinema and more about me being a secret serial killer. It's the same joke, but an interesting change of emphasis. There, I like gory cinema; here I have a blood fetish. I'm not sure either is correct, or quite that simple. Which of these two people am I? Am I huggy, or rather detatched? Am I an endlessly accomodating doormat, or do I stand up for myself, albeit in a roundabout fashion? What are the level of lies, conscious, unconscious, white and by omission, I am prepared to tell?

The answer to that question relies on your postcode. And how do I answer a question like that, if accepting and enjoying myriad personalities is the strongest life stance I hold (except, naturally enough, when it isn't)? A pal recently used the rather lovely phrase "Schroedinger's Emily", and as if to prove my point, one close friend was really surprised I was enjoying the game - whereas another wasn't surprised at all.

I went into that for two reasons: first, to warn you I'm perfectly capable of holding multiple, contradictory beliefs and I think that on some level you must be too. But chiefly, to illustrate that I am mentally flexible and aware of my flexibility, and thus incredibly susecptible to things I experience. On this basis, I believe if it's mad enough for one person to experience life like this, it stands to reason that many others must also.

And finally, on violence

The chief question involving violent entertainment is "Should we legislate against it?". I find this a hard question to answer:

Nothing should legislate against art. A solid hangover from my Oscar Wilde days.

Art impacts life. Shakespeare knew as much:
"That guilty creatures, sitting at a play / Have by the very cunning of the scene / Been struck so to the soul that presently /They have proclaim'd their malefactions"

This point is irrefutable. If what we see does not change us, then why would there be advertising? Why would pressure groups be so concerned about the depiction of their chosen minority on screen? Why do companies put product placement in movies, and pay celebrities to wear their clothes? How does tie-in merchandising work? Why are documentaries made, or movies with a social concience? Why do cosplayers expend time and effort creating replica costumes from their favourite heroes?

If art did not impact life, then none of these strategies would work. The fact is they do, QED. Arguably, holy books are nothing but books containing stories so marvellous, so affecting that they move people to be better than they can be and dedicate themselves to a cause - and thus art impacts life quite profoundly.

But when it impacts life should one man's right to "make art" be counted as more important than the rights of others to live safely? My answer to that would depend on whether Oscar Wilde or Doctor Who is closer within my mental reach. I mean, art is immortal and makes humanity seem meaningless in comparison: a few lives in exchange for the Mona Lisa (or pick your favourite work of art, including great albums or movies) which will be adored by generations doesn't seem like a big sacrifice. But then on other days, it's life, life above all - one single human life is more important than anything else. It's humans who create art after all.

I'm not sure I can ever work that out. Would it really matter to us, now, if ten more nameless Greeks had burnt at the Library of Alexandria - but the complete works of Socrates and Euripides had survived?

Art affects people in different ways. Should we kill off whole genres of entertainment because it might just set off some lone nutter, already primed by life. I don't think there's ever been conclusive proof of killings purely in the wake of vicious media. There have always been other factors - enviroment, upringing e.t.c. And they often inspire the means through which sprees take place, but as far as I'm aware, don't cause them. My evidence is that I've seen Clockwork Orange and my dad's seen Natural Born Killers, and we're both still sane and dandy. If any film was that dangerous, then how could the BBFC raters - who see all the most degrading cinema has to offer - not be locked away in maximum security?

But see above. If Clockwork Orange is even tangentally going to be implicated in the death of a real human being, would it not be better never to have been created? Regardless of the thousands it has inspired in its turn?

How do you reconcile all of that? Even if I could untangle those three threads to my satisfaction, there are other things to take into consideration:

Is there a difference between commercial violence and artistic violence? i.e. Rambo vs Antichrist, violent rape porn vs Irreversable, The A-Team vs Saving Private Ryan. Movies aim to make you feel by using images. Does it make a difference if violent images are designed for enjoyment? Or if you enjoy violent images regardless of their creators intent? If you're going to judge between art and "porn", how do you tell? And once you've said "you can watch these films because their intent is art", how do you force viewers not to enjoy them as porn?

Saving Private Ryan is an interesting one there, because the BBFC rated it a 15 - despite the loopy levels of violence. They judged that it had important historical merit, and as such teachers should be able to show it in class. Does its "artistic" intent automatically mean no kid has ever laughed "phwoar, look at that head go!" while viewing?

Why do we rate realistic violence as more dangerous than tame? If protecting the young is our goal, then surely presenting painful death is more important than showing something gleefully consequence free?

It's clear then that there are two strands in the debate on legislating violence: preventing people from copying what they see AND protecting young minds from scary images. Sex is case in point. While I don't want my hypothetical kids seeing all that on screen till they're much older, nevertheless sex is basically a good act, while violence never is. Seeing a happy consensual couple get on with it at whatever age is not a damaging image - violence is always "wrong" and is always "disgusting".

And this leads us onto one of the bigger ethical questions never asked in this debate:

Should we be enjoying this? We should respect the human right to choose - to an extent. We can all agree that extent is causing actual damage to actual people. It's written in the BBFC basic manifesto that adults should be able to choose their own viewing so long as it is not dangerous. But should we choose to watch pain for our entertainment? Is it good for - dare I say it? - our souls? Is someone who refuses violent imagery a "better" person?

Violent video games

I thought I knew where I stood on all of this. I love a bit of violence, me. My stance on film is, broadly, put the art first - even though I value life, and I admit influence exists. I do not want a world where we cannot make movies about war or crime. I have great faith in the idea of rating systems, and the BBFC in particular. We have to change the world before changing movies would have any noticeable effect on violence in society. I am suspicious of "entertainment violence", such as The A-Team, particularly with reference to children - kids need more heroes like Doctor Who, saving the world through brains and not brawn. But that's the role of parents in judging what is wholesome for their kids to consume.

The twin in the movie violence debate is the violent video game. As mentioned above, video games are as valid an artistic experience as a film - so should get the same rights. Having never played one, I've always assumed I stood in the same place.

No. No I don't, emphatically not - coming into proper contact has raked this whole debate up again, even when I thought I'd done it to death and was bored.

Bioshock

The problem wasn't so much with Bioshock. The game is beautifully designed, giving you a strong experience aside from killing stuff. I experienced very vivid emotions while playing, but this was targeted on the characters: pity for the splicers, mad love for Andrew Ryan, and a strong sympathy with Jack, the character I was playing. His desire to get home, his total dislocation really affected me. When sneaking down corridors, my mind was ticking on the issues being raised by the story - in particular, something the game never explored. I couldn't help but be distracted by the tragedy of having to "splice" magic powers to survive attacks by "splicers" who had gone mad and become addicted because of the splicing process. The thought of becoming what I was fighting was my primary concern; and with it, that to escape I had to contribute to the destruction of a beautiful city which I really came to love. The enemies are obviously mad zombies, you primarily attack them with magic powers and the location is very far dislocated by anything you could experience in real life. It is also a very scary game - you get sufficienly involved by it that the survival instinct kicks in, and you kill things because you have to. Opportunities to hurt anything like a real human raised in me a huge level of antipathy, and I believe this is encouraged by the game.

Perhaps apt to the questions I mentioned above, the game touches on the morality/life dichotomy. You crash land and discover an underwater city, built to escape the cold war and where "the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, where the great would not be constrained by the small". In other words, built on selfishness - built on people who would make violent cinema without considering the human consequences. But the city is in ruins, death by selfishness; and the game's narrative gives you regular opportunities to either act selfishly or for personal gain. All this puts morality at the forefront of the experience, and constantly forces you to think about what you are doing and why. Maybe this softens the effect of the violence?

The chief emotion I experienced throughout- and this is absolutely exploited - is pathos: for the Little Sisters, for the Big Daddies, for the splicers, for Ryan and the rest, for the city itself, for the main character, and ultimately, it all rather upset me in a very enjoyable manner.

Grand Theft Auto

I had been thinking about the debate while playing it, because I did enjoy killing things very much. So my next choice was perhaps obvious: Grand Theft Auto: Vice City.

Well, shit. I didn't actually try the whole game, just spent an afternoon on sandbox mode, but my response was very different. Unlike Bioshock, it is set in a very familiar location and is packed with real-world detail. The fact the graphics were unrealistic actually made it worse - I think I would have found it harder to hurt or threaten people if the visuals had been less bright and blocky. There are no long-term consequences to creating mayhem: escaping cops is easy, nothing goes on your permenant record and you merely lose your arsenal and get let out ten hours later if caught. And there are certainly no emotional consequences - unlike poor lost Jack onto whom I could project my isolation at being in a strange place, you are playing a criminal. And unlike brooding horror, GTA is packed with exciting upbeat rock.

All that is cold rationalisations why the violence in GTA affected me in a different way to Bioshock. I don't know how far any of them are "true". All I know is that pointing and clicking at someone's head, then watching it explode in a shower of blood gave me a very visceral reaction. If I could avoid killing in Bioshock, then I did - and those times I had to assassinate something I recognised as human gave me a very vivid "do not want!" experience. Within five minutes on GTA, we were attempting to replicate the Ripper killings by luring them around corners and dicing them with the katana for the LOLs. Holy smokes, I'm a pacifist. And a Doctor Who fan. And I think trivialising the Ripper killings is sick.

I think the chief difference is, GTA does not give you an emotional compass to work from. Life hasn't shown you how to respond to your myriad violent options, and the game doesn't help. And one of the ways humans react to such situations is with humour - think of a nervous laugh, awkward smiles or bad taste jokes. You can't comprehend the horror of a child's corpse - so here, have a dead baby joke. A lot of my generation feign racist/imperalist beliefs - even among my most liberal pals - that they absolutely do not hold, and to my mind it's because racism is so terrible you often can't respond to it sincerely without being totally swamped. Tarantino movies do something similar with their combo of violence and humour. Hence why replicating the Ripper killings suddenly seemed amusing and acceptable.

I also experienced, even temporarily, a total desensitisation towards violence. As mentioned above, my mind is as malleable as pulped intestine - so being immersed in such a game did have an effect on me. I felt like yes, this could have a noticeable effect on my real life if played to excess. Humans respond very quickly to learned behavior - there are stories of WOW players who escaped wild animals with their online skills, of ER viewers who have saved lives. Scientists have proved that neurotics are better in survival situations - people on, say, a train who spend the journey panicing that it might crash respond quicker to their mental worst-case-scenarios instead of freezing. I was so pumped up after watching Run, Lola, Run that when I was accidentally locked into the bathroom ten minutes later, I climbed out of the window and made my own escape. I do not think I would have done that in a calmer state of mind.

On the Sims, when you click another character you get a dial of interaction options. If they are a stranger, you might be able to "Greet" or "Tell Joke". But if you put time into making them friends, the number of interaction options increases - and now you can do everything from "Attack" to "Romance", with numerous options within. I feel that if confronted with a real weapon, I feel my options have expanded from "Panic!" and "Put It Down" to, in the right situation, "Use". Bear in mind I only played for about four hours, so I am sure the number of positive messages I'm getting outweighs the negative ones.

Nevertheless, I felt rather queer about the whole experience for a while afterwards. My chief question, as mentioned above, was "should we be enjoying this?" Which is NEVER a question I have asked about film before. You identify with film characters and you choose to watch, so you are thereby complicit in any bloodletting taking place. But having the power to point and shoot when you choose draws attention to the decision making process, and makes you directly involved, which is perhaps now it suddenly seems dirtier.

A friend has suggested that, with my background in violent media scholarship, perhaps my reaction was a response to what I know of GTA's reputation. This may be correct (and so it might also be of Bioshock).

Dead Space

Undeterred, I looked for another game to play properly, all the way through and chose Dead Space - sci-fi horror. Now, this was another realistic one and very beautiful too. You are running up and down rusty, light-flickery corridors, very post-Alien, and being attacked by fleshy spider creatures. One of the game's USPs is the combat. You can aim very accurately, and emphasis is on disabling Necromorphs instead of diminishing their damage points. Which is a pretty cool system, when you think about it, as it takes into account realistic injury. Once I got ahang of the controls, I adopted a definite tactic - one or two shots to the legs so they collapse to the floor, and while they flailing are struggling to move, one to the head. Followed by a good kicking to make sure they are definitely dead.

Well. Quite.

As such, it is a very sadistic game indeed. Even though the Necromorphs are the least human thing I've attacked in this experiment, the game system requires you to think carefully about how best to cause pain - with the obligatory satisfying splatter of blood. I was not comfortable with this, and switched off after about half an hour. It seemed like Deep Space was trying to develop a plot, but it didn't sufficiently draw me in that time to give an emotional compass which made killing Necromorphs in that fashion acceptable to me.

A summing up

I had three different responses:

• Bioshock: realistic style, unrealistic situation. Could play.
  
• GTA: Non realistic style, realistic situation. Could play, but later felt sick at myself.
• DS: realistic style, fairly unrealistic situation. Couldn't play.
  

Perhaps we are dealing with two different debates, and far from what I always assumed what is good for cinema is not good for videogames.

Something Dead Space and GTA have in common is they are "third person". You play the game over the shoulder of your character; in Bioshock, your eyes are the whole screen. Of cinema, I would say that detatchment is the best response to violence - viewing the violent characters as alien to oneself, as something on show. If you feel close association with violent characters it is more likely for the film to break out into real life. Perhaps when I could see my avatars on screen in DS and GTA it enabled me to be more violent than when I was immersed in Bioshock. This is a strong reversal to what I would claim about cinema: I think immersive film violence is more dangerous than when you have a bit of perspective.

I would also say that consequence-free movie violence is more troubling than high-rated sticky screaming, and this is backed up by my video game experiment. GTA was sufficiently fake looking, and free from consequence that I created some quite enthusiastic mayhem even though the rendering of blood was quite dilligent. Bioshock felt like a real world, but my disgust was padded by an obvious fantasy setting and magical powers. I felt troubled at killing some characters - but not the hordes of default zombies. I completed the game. Deep Space had realistic graphics, and was set in a world which, despite monsters and the futuristic tech, still felt sufficiently real that I could not continue. I felt it was encouraging me to be cruel

Strong narratives are better than weak ones. Like the best movies, Bioshock manipulated me throughout - but I felt like I chose how to feel in any given situation. Even though it was usually how it wanted me to feel. It both dictated my emotional response, and asked me to formulate my own. I brought my real-world morals to it - it did not give it's game-world morals to me. GTA rewards villainy, Bioshock rewards something but it doesn't immediately tell you what that is, and that sense of identification made me check my own actions on several occasions. So freedom is not a good thing: GTA and DS never really told me how I should be responding to the game experience, and I found it consequently more difficult to create a story. Whereas I would say deciding how you stand on a film, instead of having it obviously prescribed, was important.

To sum up my response:

• The more I recognise a creature as "real" - either due to the quality of graphics or their human appearance and personality - the harder I find killing.
• Conversely, if characters have no personality, are fantasy/fictional or are presented with unrealistic graphics, I find it very easy.
• The more immersed I am personally in a game, the more I feel as if my personal integrity is at stake - the better I will be have, the harder I find killing.
• Conversely, the cartoonishness of GTA and possibly the third person perspective of both allowed me greater freedom to do things I would not in life.
  
• The harder a game works to make a world emotionally satisfying, and ascribe ethical/emotional meaning to actions on screen, the more invested I feel in it, and the harder I find killing.
  
• Conversely - you get the drift.
  

Despite all this - and this is the important bit - I feel these unrealistic games did tug at my primal human bloodlust in the real world with more than the realistic. This may only be true for me, but yes I believe they have real life consequences and can be dangerous in eroding moral values. Do I think violent video games should recieve tighter legislation? Yes, definitely - different to how I feel about film, but perhaps that is because I don't have the same passion as for them.

Probably. But then see every single argument I made on films above - they still apply. I'm flexible. I'm also a rather flawed test dummy as I've only ever played a few console games, and thus perhaps the novelty gave them greater effect over my emotions. If I had played hundreds, perhaps I would be desensitised and better recognise them as fiction, nothing more.

Another bad memory

I treated a friend to High Plains Drifter last night. She's a big fan of Nick Cave, and "Red Right Hand" has always reminded me of this film. It had occured to me that, as an activist, she would be a bit put out by the rape scene which casually shows up five minutes in, but it bothered her so much that it set me musing. I don't think she's going to get on with my arch-favourite genre in the long run.

Because as I attempted to defend the film, it occured to me that I can't think of a single rape-free western. Once Upon a Time in the West, For a Few Dollars More, Ballad of Cable Hogue, Sholay - even Paint your Wagon and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Unforgiven passes, but then it does cut a hooker to ribbons in scene one; Open Range also passes, but it's interminable so you still wouldn't want to watch it. Rio Bravo, I think, is OK. I don't recall anything in 3:10 to Yuma - but the threat is definitely there. Maybe Blazing Saddles.

But certainly violence against women is ever-pervasive in the genre. Why is it there? The Western works in tropes more than perhaps any other genre. All movies have their cliches - fat cops with donuts,the hardnosed detective with a drink addiction and rubber duck, the passionate journalist who just can't hold down a relationship. But these things are all modern - the writer can, if he likes, meet some journalists, detectives or cops and learn about the genuine professions. He can't meet a cowboy.

And while he could do some research - well, it's not like writing about the Infanta, or the Wars of the Roses. It's the Tarantino school of movie writing - the Western exists mostly through fiction. Very much like the way Jack the Ripper has come to stand for whole styles and ideas, despite the fact he was once a rather desperate human being in need of serious help.

The Wild West heroes are America's Arthurian knights - mythic and archetypal. Even revisionist westerns play against the idealised rendition. You know who they are: the lanky coffinmaker who can measure up a body as soon as it rides into town; the lone gunfighter; the profit-driven cowboss/ mining director/ railroad magnate; the honest homesteader; the whiskery beer-sot who periodically spits in the dust. Oh, and the sherrif. I'm sure essays have been written about how this represents aspects of the American psyche. And then for the girls, unsurprisingly enough, there are Madonnas and Whores: dumpy schoolmistresses or vicar's wives, and dancing girls, waitresses and hookers with a heart of gold.

It is a harsh and horrible world, westerns want to tell us, populated by fallen people of both genders. Rape is a mode of interaction justified by the setting and the style - because without exception, the world of the western is a very violent one. Shootings, floggings, abandonment in the desert without water, being dragged behind horses, hung, beaten to death with bricks, blown up, dropped down mine shafts, being fed to ants and live burial happen all the time - so does theft, extortion and crimes of all colours. So should we really be surprised that violence gets directed at women as well? Calypso herself admitted that her distaste was hypocritical, considering Clint had gunned down a room of fellows minutes earlier. And part of me wanted to say, "this movie has someone stabbed through the neck with a sharp stick then left to suffocate as blood gurgles up through his throat", but at the same time I do understand exactly what she meant - one was worse than the other. Maybe it's like why "positive discrimination" against whites is justifiable (sort of) because they are not a marginalised group - in other words, violence against women does seem worse because it's still horribly pervasive in the modern world and needs to be treated as sensitively as any other form of movie-hate.

Or maybe it doesn't bother me as much, becuase it's written into my book of wild west expectations? Because it's also a trope - like the Rush To The Airport or Climactic Gunfight.
Calypso expects westerns to feature fellows getting shot, but would be surprised if killer crabs demolished the one-horse-town in the second reel, or our hero suddenly developed superpowers. Because I have watched a lot of westerns, my definition of the genre is wider and more complex, so casual rape is something I do half expect of the genre.

Sergio Leone said "The west was made by violent, uncomplicated men", and the western is a violent, uncomplicated genre. The location is out in the wild, and as such is liberated from the ethics, the hypocritical etiquette and mores of civilised Victorian life. There is a focus on the natural world - sweeping mountains, deserts - suggesting humans who have gone "back to nature" - and as such, all the characters are operating on primal urges. Thus the fellows are all manly macho men - hard drinkers who live to shag and shoot. I can only name you a single Western in which the hero chooses to drink milk.

Maybe this is at the root of problem of depicting women. Something like the Ents and the Entwives. In The Two Towers, Treebeard explains that the Ents liked to wander the wilds, while the Entwives liked to stay in one place, to garden and to tame the wilderness. They fell out because the Entwives wanted to civilise while the Ents wished to roam free. And thus: the message of western seems to be that actually, men fare better like this - whether it be the romanticism of Johns Wayne and Ford or the loners at one with the land who populate Sergio Leone's output. The minority of male characters in a western will be dressed in ties and starched colllars - most will be dressed down, whether honest farmers or good fer'nothings. Whereas women wear proper Victorian dresses - wondering where Wild West women get their immaculate hairdos is the oldest joke in the film studies department.

So it's the same dichotomy of the Ents - while the Men are relishing this return to nature, Leone's "simplicity", Women want to civilise the West and make it more like home. Women are resisiting their location, while Men are fitting into it. Optimistic old-school Westerns paint a romantic image of a simpler, better age, when men were men, where you knew where you stood and so on. Pessimistic Westerns are more likely to tell you that this is the true face of humanity - but in both cases, Man is right in accepting this natural state. You don't get many westerns which end with the hero deciding it's not for him and that he'll return to the big city. Interesting dichotomy here too - many westerns are about progress, but the message seems to be one that simpler is best.

There's an inherent criticism, then, in the behavior of women in Westerns - all of whom are in denial about embracing the natural world. I seem to have accidentally argued around the other thing Calypso really objected to, and I do not suggest for a moment that she's wrong in objecting. It was the way the women, after some token resistance, melted onto Clint Eastwood. Because they "secretly wanted it". At the time I said "well it's Clint Eastwood for goodness sakes", but now I've had it out on paper I think I get it. Wild West Men are simple and honest, and as discussed above, have embraced their primal urges - want woman, have woman, have woman now. Wild West Women are rarely shown in this fashion. They are civilised, but the West is not. They are proud and cling onto their notions of dignity and society which Wild West Men know have no meaning "out here". So maybe the inference is that there is a primal Wild West Woman inside each of them, but one they are supressing under their manners and neat appearance. Or, indeed, in the context of his genre they do indeed secretly want it. Which yes, I would also find very objectionable - outside of my beloved westerns. Which just goes to show that academia can justify anything.

There's an essay in here somewhere. And I'm not sure it's as cleancut as all of this. The thing I hate most about academia is the way it has less and less relevance to the subject under discussion. Like the way, in spy movies, spies stop trying to beat the enemy and concentrate on beating the enemy spies instead. While this theory is a nice framework to watch and understand Westerns through, lets be clear about the intents of the filmmakers. Fairly sure, in many cases, the historical setting and genre precedents are justification to show something unpleasant - which we are secretly meant to enjoy watching.

And I think I will enjoy westerns less for having it. I don't mind it at all on a film-by-film basis, because all I can think of have a good in-world justifications aside from my highfalutin' ideas about humanity and violence expressed above. So, Butch Cassidy is parodying the trope. High Plains Drifter is about a man who intends to let a small town destroy itself, and what he does in the first ten minutes sets up ripples that influence the course of the film. Once Upon a Time in the West doesn't really have an excuse for everyone treating Jill like shit - but makes up for by making her a very strong woman, maybe one of my favourite film heroines. Incidentally, have you ever thought about the tagline to that film:

"There were three men in her life. One to take her, one to love her, and one to kill her."

Quite aside from the essay inherent in a tag which defines the female protagonist through the actions of the male characters, have you ever worked out which character is which?

Anyway. Tell me what you think.

Everything's satisfactual...

After yesterday's dive into the sticky debate over whether it was right for Song of the South to remain unreleased in the US, I was just itching to watch it and get my own opinion.

Well. It's hard, very hard. I almost wish this was an overtly racist piece of work, so a judgement would be easy. The problem is this - it isn't obviously cruel, but it is insensitive. By which I mean, the black characters are portrayed as nice, happy, loveable people - but in a way that could be construed as quite offensive. My mum boiled it down to the perfect phrase - "Uncle Remus is poor compared to the lead family, but rich in other ways", and it's that cliche along with a blinkered view of post-war history that makes this an uncomfortable watch at times. Certainly it wasn't intended as racist - on the contrary, the whole idea of the young boy and old man finding common ground is as a-OK as it gets - but it is spoilt by 40s attitudes which are no longer acceptable. I can see both ends of the spectrum - if you weren't aware of the controvesy, some people might not even notice - alternately, I can understand how a lot of people would see this as extremely offensive.

But I hold to my guns - overt censorship is wrong. What this film needs is honesty: a dvd release, maybe at a higher rating to indicate its controversial status, with a jolly good special feature acknowledging and tracking the film's troubled history. An adult would understand that the film says more about 1946, when it was made, than the period it is supposed to represent. And I'm fairly sure it would all go over the head of child, especially one living in our modern multi-cultural society - most kids would take the fun of the animation away with them. All the same, I would think before sitting a child in front of it. By the time they are old enough to appreciate the context, they'll have grown out of it anyway...Mum suggests that were I black, I may feel differently - maybe so. I'm certainly not denying it's a contraversial piece. But surely it's better to get the debate in the open, than Disney hiding it away and whitewashing the past. If it was any other company than it'd be fine. Pretending to be squeaky clean doesn't make it so.

My mother and I discussed whether even small parts of it could be released - maybe the cartoon segments, but the "jes sir I no think dat" language would mean it would have to be entirely redubbed as well, at which point you've got barely anything left.

Ignoring all that for just one minute, this is a wonderful film. The mix of live-action and animated segments is awfully clever, especially for the time. Especially noteworthy is Remus surrounded by flying creatures - wheeling in and out of sight, perspective perfect - and the real-dog menaced by the cartoon-frog at the end. The central friendship is very affecting, with Johnny finding someone to replace the father-shaped hole in his life - and the animated segments are great fun.

Particularly interesting was his father's role in all this. It is never clearly stated why little Johnny and his mom move to their grandmother's, nor why the father is compelled to return to Atlanta. Its only addressed in the opening scene - and barely there. It's hinted over something he wrote, but what I don't know. There is an absolutely fascinating story going on here, one Johnny (and therefore we) never fully understand.

At times I felt maybe it was cleverer than it appeared - or perhaps this is the response of any 18 year old over-analysing something made for the under 10s? Remus hints at troubles every now and then - it could be read, by your bored intellectual, maybe a child's-eye-view argument could excuse the whole film. Because what would a 6-year-old kid dragged away from his home care about the sociopolitical context? I'm probably grasping at straws here - all I'm saying is I wanted to know exactly what his father had done.

All in all, an utterly charming film. It's just a pity that its fortunes are so interlinked with this whole horrid issue, because you can't judge it on its artistic merits alone.

PS, while we're talking racism in Disney, give Peter Pan a whirl. Now arguably these are "injuns" the same way the pirates are pirates - the villains of childrens games enlarged into life - but still...I did a study of it for my Native Peoples of the Americas project about five years back, and picked out everything that's wrong with it - and that's so much it's not even worth separating. Is it offensive? To be honest, it's so OTT I'm not sure it counts. Should Peter Pan be banned? Why are you even asking me this...

The IVORY gates of DEATH

Last night I watched His Girl Friday. Isn't Cary Grant a sweetheart? More than anything, it reminded me of a Marx brothers comedy in the pace and style of the dialogue - although at times, it did get a bit...loud for me.

The most striking thing about this film was its age. Not that the comedy has dated, but the world seemed such a long time ago. All the men in hats. Casual mentions of Hitler starting another war, or "the Polish Corridor", or the acceptable use of the word picaninny. Watching how the news used to be made before 24 hour communication.

And of course, everyone smoking all the time. It's a pity for the film industry that smoking is developing the stigma it is. Obviously, it's a fatal social scourge that has to be got rid of. But in films? It's the ultimate prop. The last cigarette of the condemned man. The subtle romance of lighting one in your own lips before handing it to a female friend. Lighting up threatenly. Chewing your cigar threateningly. Dropping and twisting your foot over it to prove you mean business. Stubbing it out nervously, or again to prove you mean business. The way you use your cancer tells the audience everything - it can express nerversness, confidence, sexuality, sophistication or druggie drop out. You can have a character that doesn't smoke at all - think Mr Pink in Reservoir Dogs who turns one down, briefly, because he quit. Especially now we know that smoking leads to a plethora of miseries, it speaks fathoms about a character still smoking - they don't mind, don't care, don't think about the future or whatever. Cigar? Roll-yer-own? Red Apple? Cigarette holder? They all suggest a different image to me. After a near death experience in the Godfather, a terrified friend tries to light a cigarette but can't make the lighter work with his shaking hands - Michael does it for him, noticing with some alarm that he is completely calm. It's small, but significant. And let's not get started on the artistic impact - what would Blade Runner be without all that streetfog and cigarettes smoke?

The MPAA have, rightly or wrongly, started to treat smoking like any other drug. Now, when rating films, the image or glamour of characters smoking and attitude taken towards it will all be taken into account. A period piece would get away with it; as would a contemporary piece when an unpleasant and unsympathetic character does it, or if it's a major plotpoint with a moral message. Tellingly, the previous Bond film Casino Royale had no smoking in whatsoever. Strange destination for a character whose first image was surrounded in smoke. Certainly, there will never be a lightweight good natured comedy with a shiny leading man, such as His Girl Friday, involving one ever again - the American film industry gets nervy about NC-17s! (the NC-17 is regarded as the mark of death in America - because under 17s are shut out. They'll trim for an R instead. I've always thought it bizzare - Saw was R-rated there, and an 18 here, and it didn't die at the box office that dramatically...)

So what's your favourite cigarette moment? Mine may be the Godfather example above; maybe Rachel's interrogation in Blade Runner. It's a shame this great item is going to be all but killed in mainstream cinema.



In other news - mater has brought home some really exciting videos from a jumble sale. Firstly, Song of The South. If you frequent this blog, you'll probably know of my passion for all things censored, rubbish or slightly bad taste. For those of you living under a rock, Song of the South is the Disney classic that gave us Brer Rabbit, Zip-e-Dee-Dooh-Dah, and happy, contented slaves in the post-civil war era. Hang on...as you can see, this 1940s childrens classic commits a fairly grave error of political correctness. A quick perusal of IMDB trivia reveals that accusations and anger have dogged its entire history, including a protest at the premier. Disney re-released the film in 1956, claimed it was "retired" in 1970; but then again released in 72, 81 and 86 - but never in America. With a track record like that, it's unlikely to ever see the light of day again.

As such, I was excited to recieve it on video - as part of my ongoing fascination for the banned and bad taste, not to mention how much I'll be able to flog it for on ebay one of these days. I wonder, for example, if they would recieve a higher rating if ever released again? Birth of a Nation, another classic of the "great film, shame about the content" school, is rated 15 for the racist message alone. The consensus on imdb seems to be that this is insensitive and offensive in principle, but not as bad as it could be (as opposed to, say, Birth of a Nation, which is at times hard to watch, its politics being so far removed from what is today acceptable)

Should Disney keep it locked up? That's a harder question, and one I'll cover properly once I've seen the film and come to a judgement about how offensive it is. In principle, I'm opposed to censorship of any sort. Everyone has a film they remember vividly from their childhood, which they'd kill to see again. The Plank is one of mine, as is the Through the Dragon's Eye TV program I hark about all the time. Hans Christian Anderson is another one - awful, tacky musical -but I remember it so clearly, and was lucky enough to recently discover it on video. Turns out my memories weren't so clear - I had been sure the lead role was played by Dick Van Dyke. For my mum, it's Escape to Witch Mountain. My point is, these films that children see, as adults will go to great lengths to rewatch them. It's unfair to withold Song of the South from these people, not to mention historians of film (it's Disney's first live action movie, not to mention a goldmine for people doing presentation of race)

But to turn around - in principle, I'm opposed to censorship of any sort. There are exceptions - Song of the South is a children's film, and if there is offence there, I certainly wouldn't want it affecting the perceptions of a child in a negative way.

Here's the most interesting IMDb quote I've found this morning:

"People find this movie offensive for the most part not because of Uncle Remus, who, in the african-american folktales adapted and compiled by Joel Chandler Harris, is a great character; nobody really thinks about the negative depictions of blacks because there are too many today; they get offended because Disney, (probably) without any actual malicious intent, portrayed one of america's darkest moments in history as a happy place ALL THE TIME. "

It's an interesting point which struck a chord - find me a Disney film where this isn't the case? Maybe this film gets picked on because it chooses to feature such an emotionally charged subject? Bedknobs and Broomsticks gives the Blitz the same happy-happy treatment; Mary Poppins had povertystricken chimney sweeps laughing and dancing - and lets not get started on their systematic bastardisation of disturbing tales such as Little Mermaid, Peter Pan and ferthelove Hunchback of Notre Dame into kiddie-friendly fare. Disney, as a rule, doesn't set out to address period issues or present complex moralities.

In short, I'm really looking forward to this one. Oh, other videos? She also picked up Pinoccio. I don't know if I ever told you this, but I'm a Disney dunce. No beauty and the beast, Little Mermaid, Pinoccio, Aladdin, Pocohontas for me. I managed to miss all its classics somehow. And finally, Brief Encounter, which i've been gagging to see for an age. As previously mentioned, we also found Hans Christian Anderson last week, along with Fear and Loathing.

PPS - just had the most surreal horror movie moment ever. A gust of wind shot through the window and toppled my "visible man" statue. Lungs, spleens, both intestines all strewed across the floor - not to mention a leg twisted horribly out of shape and a heart split in two. The top of the cranium is still missing as is the chest - one of the lungs has got trapped somewhere near the ankle. i feel like a serial killer in a particularly grotesque black comedy. There's this white lumopy thing the shape of africa, with an orange tube across the top, and a red lump at the bottom. Any idea where it goes?

"STOP THIS DEBASING FILM"

Nothing gets my hackles up or piques my interest like censorship. And so i was pretty excited to see this screaming headline on the front of the Sunday Times:



MP's SHOCK AT VIOLENT NAZI FILM



To summarise the lengthy article AND editorial they dedicate to said violent Nazi film:


Films with graphic everything are being sold freely on high streets. The BBFC have just unbanned a clutch of violent films banned 20 years ago, including SS Experiment Camp, and "quietly put them on sale in high street shops". The BBFC claims sensibilites have changed since first banned. However, MPs want more power to appeal against the boards decisions. the prime minister is set to meet a committee to discuss tightening up rules against "video nasties" (incedentally, if this campaign goes anywhere, I'll be really upset, but at least there'll be some interesting news coverage). The MPs are concerned these films desensitise us - and they are particulary worried about extremely low budget 70s exploitation flick SS Experiment Camp, which they add are "being sold alongside family films at high street shops". If that comment isn't trying to stir us up, I don't know what is. Jewish groups are also worried that these films trivialise the suffering of Holocaust victims. They then give a few details about the film's content, cue wincing in middle class households all over the country. "Because it has an 18 certificate, it can be sold on the same shelves as U and PG certificate films"



Stop the press. This article has an agenda. Can't they just tell us the news as it is, instead of overdramatising. I'm not sure whether the author has ever seen this film - I've seen the DVD box in my local store, and I can guarentee you it was a long way away from the PGs.



It continues: thus film was approved by the director, present and two vice-presidents of the BBFC. A spokeswoman added this very level soundbite:

"there is nothing in this film which anyone should have concerns about. It does not include harmful sexual violence. If there was any concern about it, we wouldn'y classify it. It is tasteless, but then I find most Mel Gibson films tasteless. if you are upset by something, that is your personal take on this. We do not believe that anyone watching this title is going to become anti-semetic as a result. We accept that people are going to be offended by it, but it is not going to create an attitude towards Jewish women that is harmful".



Meanwhile, a private members bill (whatever that is...) supported by senior MPs from all parties is being introduced to challenge the release of these extreme films. Brazier claims the release of said film is "a clear case of the BBFC failing to protect the public". It is not clear whether or not he has seen the film. He does add that "half of all males think that forced sex is justified under some circumstances", which I can't believe. Dunno where he's getting his facts from. They then go on to talk about the various MPs who are trying to get this garbage bill through parliament, but it's convincing enough to worry me, and they end up by adding that it's the 63rd anniversary of Holocaust Memorial Day.



First reaction - shock. The idea of all these stiffs in suits proclaiming lofty death on a film they haven't seen annoys me.




The funny thing is, I'm not sure where I stand on this. I'd be the first to defend a Real Film against such charges (say, A Clockwork Orange...), but this is SS Experiment Camp we're talking about. Even the title feels tackily exploitative (be thankful it isn't well known under it's other name, Captive Women II: Orgies of the Damned, which is even more amusingly dire)

It isn't even pretending to be art - and while the BBFC can claim it won't actively harm people who watch it, you can't deny that wanting to watch it proves you are one of a very nasty element of young men. Or women, there's no accounting for taste.

This film gets right to the heart of the argument - how nasty should our TV be allowed to be? Lots of other, better films have side-factors which muddy the issue - "it's funny", or "ironic", or "artistic" or "making a point", and thus defensible because it is (on some level) art. SS Experiment Camp is indefensible on those grounds; this is a purely moral argument.

So, morality then. BBFC policy is that adults should be able to watch what they like, if it isn't likely to cause actual harm. I'm not sure anyone can disagree with that too strongly. I like having the right to see this film, but don't particularly want to - and I don't mind others seeing it, particularly if it's from the desire to watch some kitch trash. I myself am a fan of really bad music, found on one of my favourite sites, the Museum of Bad Album Covers.

There has never been a conclusive study as to the relationship between violent films and real life crime, and until there is, neither side can use statistics to conclusively back up how much harm these things are doing. (I recently heard a radio interview with a batty theory that violent films decrease the crime rate, because they attract the Young Male demographic, get them off the streets and away from the alchohol. The sceptical interviewer shot it down almost instantly by asking if crime rates go up during Finding Nemo...)

It is my opinion that violent media unlocks something already within us - if you are a normal, well adjusted citizen, then these things may give you bad dreams, but it won't turn you into a psycho. And if it does, it's not the film alone that did that - and it's just triggering something which was inside already, whether from childhood abuse, genetics, mental disorder, frustration at the world or whatever scientists feel violence stems from. And that could be set off by anything. I have no proof, but it seems to make a sort of sense. Certainly films influence our behavior - I myself am very guilty of this. I fall into a fictional world, and it takes me a long time to claw my way back out. I have to make a conscious effort not to swear too much after seeing a film where language is in the rhythm of the script, I feel my opinions on war or suchlike change in response, I try to dress like my heroes. But I've never felt, even for an instant, more angry or vicious - sometimes more alive, maybe - but never more likely to rob old ladies after than before. I'm not denying that media and fiction influence us - I'm saying they don't turn us into something new. To ban A Particular Film for the protection of the public is to suggest a significant proportion of those who view it will go nuts as a direct result.

My dad's seen Natural Born Killers. He's still sane.

The BBFC are perhaps being a little optimistic when they say that "there is nothing in this film that anybody should have any concerns about". There's a lot to be concerned about any film this exploitative. But then again, they've seen it - I haven't, and neither have half those MPs, if I know anything about these debates. Mary Whitehouse never saw the films she chased; our local authorities hadn't seen Natural Born Killers when they kept it out of local cinemas. Lets see what the BBFC, who have watched it, have to say:

"The content of the film is in fact very mild and poorly executed. If anything, it was the title of the film and its original packaging that led to difficulties, rather than the content. The idea of the film may, of course, be offensive to some but that is not a good enough reason to cut or reject it. We would only cut or reject a film for adults if the content was illegal or harmful. "SS Experiment Camp" is neither illegal or harmful, just tasteless."

Amend "offensive to some" to "offensive to almost everyone", and they've got a good point there. Lets have a look at a review from IMDB:

"SS Experiment Camp" is a very, very badly made film - those of us with a taste for extremely sick kitsch watch it for its ludicrous, campy sleaziness - for which we should be thankful. If it was a well-made film, it would be pretty impossible to watch without puking your guts up."

Of course, this argument is getting close to territory I don't want to go into - if they can pass SS Experiment Camp because it's so bad it doesn't matter, what about films which are well made and nasty? A few more gems from IMDB:

"Please, do avoid this garbage at all costs."

"This film was, like The Driller Killer, banned in the UK because of the cover art; and that's hardly surprising, as aside from the aforementioned transplant and a few sex scenes; there really isn't anything here to warrant banning, or seeking the film out for."

"I really didn't expect anything this depressingly awful." (this from a guy who's set himself the challenge of seeing every one of the DPP Video Nasty list)

"a total failure on every possible level.This film was banned in Britain as a video nasty,but it surely isn't as outrageous as many people claim.In fact it's pretty tame even by today's standards. "

"Well, it is sleazy and in highly dubious taste but the execution of the film is so amateurish and unrealistic that it really sounds a lot worse than it actually is."

"If you like the worst of the worst (Or is it the best of the best?) you simply have to check out the Nazisploitation genre. They will NEVER make movies like this again. Thank God."

I'm not just plucking quotes to support my point, this is the unanimous verdict of everyone on the board. Which makes me wonder, what has this film done to deserve front-page treatment. Or, have any of those MPs seen this film - no where in the article does it mention it being rubbish. Banning this would be like New Line sueing me and my buddies for our 45 min Lord of the Rings, technically a good and lawful move, but actually a thorough waste of time.

In light of the fact this film is, supposedly, so lousy, it strikes me that they are giving it more notoriety than it strictly deserves. I mean honestly, Jewish groups are worried. I'm sorry about the Holocaust, I really genuinely am, but do you think a piece of turd like this will politicise anyone against the Jews? Of course not - hopefully, anyone watching it will take it as the exploitative trash it is. I've no doubt that anti-semetic films get made which deserve their concern; I've also no doubt that they get banned just as promptly by the BBFC as something "likely to cause harm". This is in no way a "Nazi video", as claimed by the Sunday Times - IMDB reviewers note that the Nazi element is purely background setting for an otherwise irrelevent series of events which would be much unchanged set in a normal prison, or a mad scientist's lair.

I talked about this at my Cambridge interview. Perhaps that's why I didn't get in? I was given a passage from Ovid, a Roman poet who wrote rather racy love poetry for which he was eventually exiled. The section I was given had him complaining that it is not his fault if people read his stuff then misbehave:



"If I’m allowed to present it in order, I’ll show, below,
the mind can be harmed by every sort of poem.
Yet every book’s not guilty because of it:
nothing’s useful, that can’t also wound.
What’s more useful than fire? Yet whoever sets out
to commit arson, arms his bold hands with fire.
Medicine sometimes grants health, sometimes destroy it,
showing which plants are helpful, which do harm.
The robber and cautious traveller both wear a sword:
one for ambush, the other for defence.
Eloquence is learnt to plead just causes:
it protects the guilty, crushes the innocent.
So with verse, read with a virtuous mind
it’ll be established nothing of mine will harm.
But I ‘corrupt some’? Whoever thinks so, errs,
and claims too much for my writings."

That's a translation from latin, but despite the gap of years, the video nasty debate instantly sprung to mind. Here's a little more:

"Anything can corrupt a perverted mind:
everything’s harmless in its proper place."

I love Ovid for his timeless modernity - that he can say something so true about poetry in his own time that it is still relevant today. Incidentally, I heartily recommend Ovid's Amores 1:14 to all teen girls, in which he complains his mistress is destroying her beautiful hair by dieing and straightening it - "tortured by fire and steel", as he puts it. One brilliant line complains that her hair is now " it was not black, and nor yet was it golden, but, though of neither colour, it was mixed with both". I'm sure you know what that disaster looks like...

Or, as Oscar Wilde puts it, "Books are neither moral nor immoral. They are either well written, or badly written - that is all."

SS Experiment Camp plainly doesn't deserve the fuss - if anything, it deserves to be forgotten as "badly written", not condemned as "immoral". It's a storm in a teacup over cheap, cold tea.

Final word: the point of the BBFC is to censor films. They are doing an awesome job. Leave them alone. Banning this (again...) is unecessary, and it sets up a dangerous precedent - SS Experiment Camp is indefensible on its own merits, but if the BBFC give in to public pressure this time, how long will it be until the same calls are being made about a film which IS art? The idea of rules being tightened up instinctively leaves a nasty taste in the mouth.

New York is a real vampire...

Going to New York was the most fun I've ever had with movies, while not actually watching any.
Let me explain.

9/10 of the films you can name me are American. Even our German exchange penpals didn't know any German films. Film history is drowsy 50s starlets in sunglasses and big hats hanging around the Hollywood mafia; or shouty, beardy guys in baseball caps.

I think in cinemascope - all bikes are props from ET, or Donnie Darko, or whatever I've seen most recently. This is because I have a one track mind. But with America, it's different. I'm not overreacting - because they're filmed there, set there, and the minds which form films are inspired by it. The dusty highway, the lone diner, the white picket fence. All archetypes of film which _actually exist_. Not that I ever denied that they did, but they are so much more a symbol than real places. It's like kissing in the rain. Rain exists, so do kisses, and of course they can happen concurrently. But they don't. The old mentor, wise but human, due to die before the second reel. Actually, all the "mentors" I've ever met are still alive - and none of them have beards.

You can imagine the effect America's most iconic city had on me then...

Just being there is like being stuck in a 70s movie montage - yellow taxis! "One Way" signs! Steam coming out of the drains! Macys! Subways! Bridges! more than anything else, I was suprised it really existed. For me, NY is a set - it's the backdrop to so many films that it's become a part of the language of film. It's reduced to unreality. Sure, it's a real city. But to an outsider, it's like spending six days stuck on the set of Friends...or Annie Hall...or Taxi Driver. Take your pick. Vito Corleone introduces the dons of New York and New Jersey, but did you know there's an actual place in America called New Jersey? It's as real as Rohan.

And if that didn't strike you as hopelessly romantic, then this will: suddenly I "get" New York. All the Sesamie Street touches have ceased to be generic background decoration - it's actually there. It's real. This afternoon, I watched Breakfast at Tiffanys - its plot depends upon us believing that hero and heroine can communicate by going down the fire escape into each others windows. Now of course, I wouldn't have been confused a week before, but I would have beleved in the ladder in the same abstract way which I know spaceships should have sliding doors and escape pods.

It's white hats and black hats. Traditionally, a cowboy in a white hat is good, while black hats are reserved for villains. American Beauty's perfect lawns are a symbol of the visible perfection in the characters lives. When we see a character with fangs and a cape, we understand who he is even if we've never met a real vampire.

People understand the cliches. NY is a cliche of itself.

I even found an overweight cop in a restaurant - he's a surefire gonner. Of course, we only know that fat cops die because we've seen it in films, and they're only in films because at some point, the director cast an overweight actor and put him in a NYPD uniform. But for me, the uniform means nothing - my British bobbies wear hats and carry truncheons. Armed police? Only in the movies...It's his world not mine, it's only a costumed character. So for me, seeing a real live American cop was like meeting real life cowboys - something that only exists on screen.

I repeat: You can imagine the effect America's most iconic city had on me then...

Here's a photo of my mother and sister, AKA Woody Allen and Diane Keaton. Does it matter it's not the real bridge? Does it hell. We didn't see many genuine locations, but we saw hundreds that were good enough. My sister dragged us all around the library, and we reenacted the Day after Tomorrow. We saw the Empire State Building and Statue of Liberty, which are in everything, but I was thinking about Doctor Who S3 and Legend of 1900. And we visited Ellis Island, which had the nastiest karmic atmosphere of anywhere since Bodmin and Kilmainen Gaols, but was also the place a young Vito Corleone passes through in Godfather II.
(I'm not a believer in all things neo-hippie - I haven't really thought about it. But I do sometimes get a bit sensitive to old buildings, and I'm telling you - the Ellis Island Immigration Station is an unhappy place to be.) We also found the HQ and UFOs from Men in Black.

As for Taxi Driver, a quintessential NY, you may recall I was disappointed to have not seen it beforehand. But I'm glad I hadn't, because I feel I'll enjoy it twice as much now.

Did I overreact? Ah well, it was a lovely place. Most people assume I'm not a city person, because I love trees and greenery, but I'm just addicted to atmosphere, any atmosphere. If I'd planned the trip, I would have spent six days wandering around, taking photos and writing stories about strangers. This is at the root of why I enjoyed Babel - a film which had something missing. It redeemed itself by dragging us through four or five different cultures by the end of the film.

So, a final question on New York. Our hotel had a film theme going on - there was a print of Harold Lloyd dangling off the clockface above in my hotel room, so that was OK.
All the pictures were like that; movie stars mainly. Clark Gable et al. I recognised a fair few of them, but among the ones I didn't was this:

Who is she? Quite aside from the fact she's gorgeous, I'm curious.



PS - People have started making their "best films of 2007" lists. I haven't seen any of them, not one. So this is a special thank you for my family who, when faced with a choice of Youth without Youth, Eraserhead, Blade Runner, No Country for Old Men, Atonement, Across the Universe and I'm not There in New York cinemas, chose Golden Compass. Thanks a bunch.

Reasons why I'm looking forward to...

Reasons why I'm looking forward to...the Brothers Bloom

1. It's directed by Rian Johnson, of Brick fame.
2. It stars Adrian Brody - while this isn't intrisnically great, he's the favourite actor of Friend 5, and she loved Brick probably more than I did.
3. Music being done by directors cousin, Nathan Johnson. Now I adored Brick, but the music was a big part of this.
3. Con men. Nuff said.
4. Rachel Weisz is also starring. In a hat. With a harp. Of all those things, the harp excites me most.
5. plus Rinko Kikuchi, last seen as the deaf-mute in Babel. To be honest, I'm just curious what types of things a character called Bang Bang can do outside of James Bond...with more investigation, I discover she's playing "as a largely mute conwoman with a penchant for karaoke gives you a pretty good idea of the tone to expect." Jeez, does this girl just have a feel for disabilities? I feel two deafs in a row is a bit much...
6. ...and a particular promo shot, which I irritatingly now can't find. It features of a criminal in a bloodied up black suit. Mr Johnson, you have my immediate attention...

Reasons I'm looking forward to...

Heard about Youth without Youth? It's the new film Francis Ford Coppola and Tim Roth have made together. This in itself is exciting enough - but the plot seems pretty ace too. Just the type of thing I would watch - people have been using words like "quirky" and "whimsy", which get me very excited indeed. In fact, let's get the quotes which caught my attention:

"a defiantly challenging, magic-realist fable that puts no store in appealing to commercial sensibilities. "

"a handy double who pops up for existential discussions"

"superhuman powers "

"gorgeously lit sets"

"barmy charm"

The rose poster is gorgeous too, though I'm part of the generation that links roses with American Beauty and then gives up.

In fact, there's only one thing putting me off - and that's the critics. Reviewers don't have everything right, but generally I trust Total Film. They gave it three stars and a murmur of disappointment. Not bad, just unexciting.

All in all, I forsee this as one I'll miss in cinema and then see on DVD for £20, and never quite justify buying it.


It's funny how films like Apocalypse Now, Blade Runner or Donnie Darko were initially loathed
by everyone who saw them...and then now, critics et al have apologised and said they are great.
I didn't like them because they're respected, I liked them cos they're good. Which begs the question - would I too have hated them on their original run? Perhaps it's a climate thing - they were ahead of their time or something...

PS - just had a look at Empire's top 100 sexiest male and female people ever. Meh. How dull. Seriously, hottness is an obscure thing - it's not like you can sensibly discuss who should be there or not, because everyone has their own standards. And inevitably, people are voting for the characters as much as an impartial impression. Alan Rickman's on the list, and he's no Adonis. So is Uma Thurman - come on, is there a single person on the poll who was actually voting for her, and not Mia Wallace? And there are some people I'm suprised get votes, like Richard Gere. I hadn't even considered him as a candidate. I suppose the problem is, from where I'm standing, the girls all look the same but they guys swing from hot to huh. I don't think I've contested a single female entry yet.

Dunno what that means. Freud or summat. I wonder what the male/female ratio is on the list? Probably about equal, but I ain't counting.

One person who shouldn't have been on the list was Emma Watson. Yes, I know she's legal now, but considering she's only ever played children, I feel it's sick and wrong. Curiously, I don't feel the same way about Mr Radcliff, who's also on the list. Double standards.

And I'm still not sure about Redford being at 53

people who weren't there? I do think Kate Hudson wos robbed, and I need to see a Cary Grant movie because he looks lovely. And obviously, Mr Roth missed out, but then again...perhaps that's fair enough.

Ah, so many reasons. I like him because he can act, because he acts in things I enjoy, and yes because he was fairly dishy in his younger days. But I also respect him as a person - he always comes out sounding intelligent and genuine in interviews. As such, I enjoyed reading his comments on said Youth without Youth, and came away with two gems of information:

• He wrote something for Paris, Je T'aime. Why do I not have all the details of this, right now? Apparently it was "too dark"...but this raises an interesting idea. Why not do Paris Je'Taime: the sequel. It'll be the only arthouse film ever to have one, and there must be hundreds of decent rejected ideas waiting to happen. You could make three or four films along the same lines, and they'd all be just as classy - because you'd have a never-ending stream of talented actors and quirky shorts to fill them with.
• He isn't enthusiastic about striking, but reckons the audience should go on strike next...

...by the by, did you guys miss Paris, je t'aime? Go and get a copy, it's ace. 18 short films about love, of various forms, set in different parts of Paris. And it's not indietrash either - Alfonso Cuaron, the Coens, Alexander Payne and a whole host of people you've actually heard of help out. For the record, here are my six highlights - but in the hope you'll go get it, I won't give much detail:

Quais de Seine by Gurinder Chadha (just cute)

Faubourg Saint-Denis by Tom Tyker (Run Lola Run for beginners. Folks, if you liked this, then he's got a 70 minute version...)

Tulieres by the Coen Brothers (I know people like this)

14th Arrondisement by Alexander Payne (the dialogue is just perfectly observed)

Bastille by Isabel Coxiet (too sweet, really...)

Pere Lachaise by Wes Craven (nuff said...)

PPS - rest of family watching Dirty Dancing downstairs. Due to the new sound system, "She's like the Wind" is coming through my floor...

I have of late lost all my mirth, foregone all custom of excise...

I have of late, and wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth...foregone all custom of excise...that includes blogging. I desperately want to blog something, I just have nothing to say - I'm watching few films, and lousy ones.

So I'll type a response to EW's 15 most violent movies and see if it gets the juices going. It's usually a subject that puts me in a chatty mood. Drumroll please.

15. SAVING PRIVATE RYAN - seen it, didn't like it. It just didn't inspire me at all - iI felt there was nothing new there for me. Not so much that I'm calling it bad, mind - it was clearly very well made.

As for the violence, this is the only 15 on their list. As Emma was, rightly or wrongly, a little suprised by this, I feel it's only fair to tell you all why. I attended a fascinating BBFC lecture; when asked, the lecturer told us that it was violent enough to warrant an 18 rating, but mitigating factors were deemed more important:

1) that it was not gratuitous. Most violent films want you to be excited or grossed out by the bloodletting - SPR's violence was absolutely necessary, and shown in a realistic manner unlikely to make anyone go "aw, cool!" when legs fly off.

2) that it was educational. It was important to let young people see this film, regardless if they'd be a little disturbed.


14. HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER

Haven't seen it. Don't want to see it. I've read a description of a scene in the excellent book Shocking Entertainment, and that's well enough for me.

13. HANNIBAL

I'm unlikely to see this as well. Serial killers were never my thing. Their psychology is never as interesting as crims or crimes of passion.

12. SEVEN

I am going to see this, despite the twist being ingraned into my brain and blood. Friend 3 is desperate to see it, so we'll watch it together sometime. With a bucket.

11. THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS

The official word on this from my parents is that it's so unsettling, I'm still a bit too young to sit through it. While it's a classic - and I shall probably see it eventually - it's a pleasure I'm happy to forego for a while.

10. RESERVOIR DOGS

Nothing to say. Which hasn't been said. I'm trying my hardest to mention it as little as possible as I figure everyone else must be sick of it. Perhaps that's why my inspiration's dried up?

9. THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST

I was intially quite excited about this - real Aramaic and Latin dialogue! The violence put me off. I don't think it's gratuitous though, crucifixion's a nasty thing. I'm unlikely to see this any time soon - I don't think I'd go out of my way for it.

8. SAW

No! This is bad, but not that bad. It's more about an unsettling atmosphere than unwatchable gore. Saw 2, on the other hand - grief, I shudder to think of the opening trap with the eye. Seriously, Jigsaw, seeing if someone is willing to carve a key out of their own eyeball is not a reliable test of how much someone wants to live. Could you actually, phyisically do it anyway?

7. THE HILLS HAVE EYES

Highly unlikely to see this.

6. A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE

oooh, now this one interested me. Even at the time I wanted to see it.

5. A CLOCKWORK ORANGE

Friend 2 managed to smuggle herself a copy of this on DVD. I asked her what she thought of it. Her reply was "I don't know, I turned it off, it was too violent" - which really amused me. Of course it was. It's a Clockwork bloody Orange, what did she expect? From this whole list, this is the film I want to see both most and least. Kubrick is a god - Full Metal Jacket and 2001 are masterpieces, Barry Lyndon was pretty if a bit tedious, and I've got to see The Killing (see no. 10). And what I've heard of the film's message - that inhumanity is part of our humanity, about forced social adjustment and all - is right up my street. And then there's the 'ole ultraviolence lingering in the corner of my mind, putting me off. One day there will be a horrible crunching moment, and it'll be cheap in Oxfam, or a friend will ask if I want to see it...

4. PAN'S LABYRINTH

This film didn't need to be that violent. I was shocked by how horrid it was, I really did not expect it. Twas more the suprise than anything else.

3. HOSTEL

One word: ankles.

2. IRREVERSIBLE

Yes I want to see Irreversible. See A Clockwork Orange. I almost don't need to - I know the story, the structure, the details. Do I want to see cinema's most graphically nasty murder ever? Possibly not. Do I want to see it as a double bill with one of cinemas lenghiest, nastiest rape scenes? Definitely not. Why the hell do I want to watch it at all? No idea, but I do and one day, if the oppertunity presents itself, I'll watch it on my own behind a cushion.

1. AMERICAN HISTORY X

I caught the middle of this, and wasn't particularly impressed. The characters were just far too loathesome, I couldn't sympathise with them at all. I know this is a tad hypocritical coming from a fan of gangster films, but shooting someone for profit does make a kind of horrible sense, whereas racism never makes any sense at all.

Incidentally, did you know there are twice as many comments on the IMDB board complaining about the casual racism than the violence? It's a funny distinction I've noticed. We're so used to seeing gore in the media, but very few films are daring enough to risk offending people; especially like this, where there is no cosy moral cushion at the end. I for one don't mind it. Or rather, yes I'd mind it a lot if I actually met someone who spoke like this, but in context I can deal with it. Who ever heard of a nasty criminal? Shocking! It isn't even an integral part of the plot, cut it and you've still got the same film...

That didn't make me feel much better, but oh well.

We're going on a free school trip to Canada, sponsored by the Imperial War Museum's "Their Past, Your Future" project. As part of the trip, we've been given our own blogs - you can read mine here. That's easier said than done - one member of the team was a little outspoken on their blog, and was squished like a bug by the Powers That Be. And the only reason I'm telling you this is you might be interested in some of my more movie related ones. Naturally, I'm putting my cinema first and foremost in everything I've added so far. I highly recommend our movie-style radio trailer for the trip, which is hilarious. We made it in about 20 minutes. I'd say it was fairly obvious who was in charge of the soundtrack here...I'm also whacking away at the personal blog - I did an unecessarily extensive one about the in flight movies we'll be enjoying on the way, as well as a reference laiden account of our prep trip to England. What did you expect?! I had a miserable day, the restaurant served both burgers and shakes, I had to experement...it cheered me up no end, I quoted all evening - and the combination tastes amazing. But I couldn't have danced the Twist on it...

But my true baby on the site is Part 1 of FILMS TO SEE BEFORE YOU GO - a ten minute podcast recommending my 4 fave war films. You don't have to listen to it; my voice is very annoying, the things I wanted to express about them sound cheesy when I say them out loud and you've probably heard my viewpoints at least once before. But what you might enjoy is my defence of the war film.

On the prep trip, one of the lecturers saw fit to deliver critisism of war movies. Not an artistic criticism, a moral one: veterans don't like realistic war movies, he's met people who thought Saving Private Ryan was deeply tasteless. It is wrong to make, watch and enjoy them. Naturally that struck the core of my being - art should be able to express everything. There's an Oscar Wilde quote on this I can't quite remember. But I felt I couldn't let it pass without a reply...

Folks, do any of you enjoy murder mysteries? Action movies? Anything with sex or death? Yeh, they might not be based on actual events, but for every Poirot about a man clubbed to death with an antique vase, I can find you a real life incident. And while it might not be bad to see a fictional story about X, it is at some level based on fact. One of the strands of In America focuses on the grief of parents who have lost a child. Of course, it’s not based on a particular true story. But that doesn’t mean that feeling isn’t universal, and there are many out there who are dealing with it at this very moment. Even within far-out fantasy like Lord Of The Rings big themes can be found – losing friends, the struggle to do what is right.

This isn’t wrong. I can’t think of a single film that isn’t about humanity. Even Watership Down tells us more about men than bunnies. War happens. So does murder. So does rape and torture and ballroom dancing. If we were to say just because these actions are wrong in real life, we cannot show them on screen for fear of offending, then we’ve just destroyed half of the world’s fiction. Name me a film without a single piece of bad behaviour and I’ll give you a cookie. Even Bambi starts with violence. The fear of death is something none of us can get away from. Clint Eastwood says this of murder in Unforgiven: “you take away all a man has, and all he’s going to have”, which is a ponced up way of saying death is a very bad thing. Films allow us a safe environment to explore ideas and concepts we can’t comprehend from our couches – if a film can give you half the experience of war, it is no less important than the experience of loss or grief, or of joy, felt in films such as Big Fish.

The difference is that these events are all ultimately fictional while World War 2 is real. But you're following fictional characters, and herein lies the crux: the war is used as a backdrop for a fictional story, in the same way that the post-9/11 climate of fear keeps impacting films made today. I don’t just mean United 93 or World Trade Center. I mean things like Munich – ostensibly about the Black September massacre back in the 60s, but actually trying to make a point about the way governments react to terrorism. A lingering shot of the still-standing towers just pummels the message in case you missed it. Is it wrong for Monty Python and the Holy Grail to be set against the Black Death, or The Fountain to figure Spanish politics as a backdrop to its outlandish plots? In fact, if you’re going to get itchy about war movies, surely you should frown on the films following real characters more than the fictional ones. A Very Long Engagement follows some characters a long way from the action of a World War (blow me, I can’t remember which one!), which merely sets up the situation for some fictional adventures. This is as defensible as Saving Private Ryan, which put its fictional characters right in the middle of the war. The war is no less a of a backdrop, the characters no less real than all the girlfriends left behind.

There’s a good book called Shocking Entertainment about how audiences respond to movie violence. It analyses a lot of interesting information and comes up with a very simple solution: “Real violence is not entertaining. Film violence is.” Hold that thought.

Saving Private Ryan was violent enough to warrant an 18 certificate, but the BBFC passed it as 15 because the violence wasn’t gratuitous or exploitative – you’re not meant to enjoy it, and when heads explode you go “ew!” instead of “cool!” Violence, shown as a very very bad thing. Surely anyone who has experienced it would praise that approach, instead of (say) the Matrix – which glorifies civilian massacres and presents gunfire with almost no consequences. The Agents always survive. The heroes are nigh-on unstoppable. If anything is being sick, it’s these action films which show violence as victimless. The Matrix = film violence = not entertaining. SPR = highly realistic violence = not entertaining. Veterans can disapprove of the attempt to immerse the audience in their experience, but the uber-realistic style makes the audience squirm instead of going “lets go kick the Krauts yeah!”.

According to lecturer no. 2, the veterans disapproval stemmed from conveying the true experience of war – it’s not right, they say. Why not? So now all our fiction must be hammed and glorified? We can’t show grieving parents, because it’s not right to attempt to show their sadness? We can’t show people dying, because there is no way it’ll equal the real thing? It would have been a crime to doll the war up as a whale of a time, invite coos of bloodlust instead of sheer horror?I’m going to be honest – I like violent films. The Killer – amaaaazing film! You should see Chow Yun Fat armed with two .45s, taking out a whole army of rival gangsters. Cinematic violence can be very exciting – just watch any James Bond film. Explosions! Car chases! Gun fights! Please reassure me I’m not a psycho – tell me you feel the thrill sometimes. Anyone here seen Hot Fuzz? Don’t you just love the end? Now of course, being in the middle of a gunfight feels nothing like Hot Fuzz or The Killer. It feels like Saving Private Ryan - it's loud, messy and very very scary. Yet this is what veterans object to – the attempted realism. Would they have preferred the Hot Fuzz approach? Even though I personally disliked it for lots of picky pretentious cinema buff reasons, I stand by my recommendation of Saving Private Ryan. I’m not saying those few vets are wrong to find it sick – they went through hell, I didn’t. I only saw the movie. But looking at the wider picture, condemning realistic war films has a far wider impact – on every film about life. You would be sick to enjoy it the same way you do Star Wars, which is where the realism is so damn vital – not gratuitous, not exploitative, just very very hard to watch. It is never disrespectful, and if it conveys a tenth of the terror on Omaha beach, then it stands as a worthy tribute to any man brave enough to get out of his boat.

PART 2, if I ever finish it, is going to be films related to the stuff we're going to do on the trip. Only I can't think of any I've seen, and I shouldn't recommend anything I haven't seen. I'll mention The Longest Day and Saving Private Ryan, and probably Jesus of Montreal - Canada's best film (we visited the Canadian embassy, and this really enthusiastic tour guide wanted to tell us how AMAZING Candada was, really proud of all its achievements. But I caught him off guard. I asked him to think of some good Canadian films, and he really did not do very well. He only barely disguised the fact he couldn't think of any. My Kubrick-lovin' English teacher since recommended me Jesus of Montreal, and it's brilliant). After that it gets hard - the theme of the trip is rememberance and the forging of Canadian national identity. Not really a cinematic topic. We're doing a lot of WWI battlefields, and I know no WWI films; we're gonna do a "Native First Peoples Experience", and I've never seen a pro-Indian movie I've enjoyed;we're going to see ice hockey, and I haven't seen Slap Shot. Perhaps I'll just skip part two....

They come to you with smiles.

Today's post is all about someone you have a lot of respect for letting you down. But more of that later.

Film Studies exam yesterday. Oh dear. Now I want it logged there wasn't much more I could have done in terms of revision. The questions weren't especially nasty, just dull and uninspiring. "How important are film websites for promoting purposes compared to other channels of getting audiences in". "What benefits are there for Hollywood in remaking other things". "How are From Russia With Love's messages and values conveyed through sound and image in the final sequence (this question was evil; I did not do well at it at all...) "Dicuss the depictions of sexual behavior in the films you have studied" NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! What did I say yesterday? Anything except gender and sex, please something I can discuss Hard Days Night, please please nothing about Darling. That was not the most fun three hours I've spent this week. But it's over now. Which isn't exactly a comfort.

Film Studies over. We wrote a very nice letter to our headmistress asking her to continue it for another year, like all the other subjects. Our FS teacher told us, in advance and on the quiet, that she'd turned it down. Which was a bit of a blow, especially as I've got a great coursework essay bubbling under. It's just because our school wants a reputation for doing "proper subjects". Now I feel pretty passionate about this (especially as the school has already discontinued two other subjects me and Friend 2 wanted to take at A-level) and the obvious option is to move to one of our other local schools to continue these subjects. I'd really like to, just to make a point about how the school has just effectively screwed our futures up, but just can't. There's simply no way I could leave this school. In the light of the aforementioned refusals, it's a desperately misplaced loyalty.

It was good of him to inform us, because our headmistress hasn't had the decency to reply herself yet. It's been about two months. I even made a point of marching my co-signatories of the said letter up to assembly every day for a few weeks, in case she announced she wanted to see us. We said in the coda to our letter that we would really like to talk to her about whether it would be possible, and would be happy to talk with anybody else involved in the decision, and we need your help to work out who these other people are. Until she actually replies to us, there's not much else we can do. And it's damn rude of her not to have. More misplaced loyalty badly damaged (at least she hasn't had my family shot though; see below)

Film Studies needs more respect. It merely uses the same skills as English, and applies them to a different medium. Perhaps, in a way, its more worthy. Because you can read anything into books, but if you're reading something into a film, most likely it's been put there. On Friday, I'll be in my exam writing about how Dracula is actually one big metaphor for sex. Now of course Bram Stoker didn't sit down and think "hmmm, lets see whether I can get away with this by pretending it's a monster story" - perhaps it was subconscious, perhaps not. But this reading the smallest meaning into every word and line is tripe. I write, and most of the time that's that. I don't think "if I make the curtains vermillion, it ties in with the underlying theme of futility in the novel". I'll admit there are horrible personal allegories at work under everything I write, but I only ever notice that afterwards.

But in films, if you can see something then it's probably been put there. It's expensive, it involves hundreds of people, and you can't just accidentally use jumpy music and grim mise-en-scene and then claim it was unintentional when peeps get freaked out. I've been told that I can do anything at all I want to do at university, as long as it's not Psychology, or Sports Science, or Media Studies etc...Now I know that I'm eventually going to do English with Creative Writing at the University of East Anglia. Not because I like English - I pathologically disagree with it, it's a heap of bull; see above - but because it's easy and the only way to continue my interest in film (most English courses have a few token filmstudies modules thrown in).

To get into university, you only need to demonstrate passion for your subject and get good grades. I'd kinda like to continue Latin, but I know I couldn't survive an interview for it - I enjoy it, and that's my only qualification. I haven't read many other authors, I have no opinion on where the Elgin Marbles should be, I don't care what the Romans ate for breakfast. I just like translating things in and out of the language. I could go and do English, because our teachers have started an "Oxbridge Club" in which we discuss poetry and power-read hypocritically until we can feign an interest in The Impact of Feminism on Medieval American Literature at interview. I love Oscar Wilde, for example. I've got two copies of his complete works, and voluentarily read several biographies, several times. I'm not interested in going and pulling them apart, and reading his life into them. Which is what English at uni will inevitably center around. And film? I use words like chiascuro in ordinary conversation. I have favourite directors I'm willing to talk about. There's probably as much bull about on film as there is on literature, but the point is I can discuss film.

To a certain extent, everyone is entitled to an opinion. But the more films you watch, the more informed your opinion can be. Same with books, art, opera, whatever. I've been reading through the "1001 books you must read before you die". I know whether I liked them or not, but I couldn't review them as fully as any film. Take a Certain Scene in Pulp Fiction. On one level, it's just a bog standard question of "what's easiest to kill people with: bats, chainsaws or swords?" but once you appreciate QT's love of Eastern cinema, and general superiority on all things film to everybody on the planet, the choice of a samuri weapon becomes more meaningful. It doesn't make the uninitiated's opinion less valid, but it does enhance your understanding. You can say "Jackie Brown was good", but if you've seen Foxy Brown, Coffy and sat through the Pam Grier conversation in Dogs your take will be far better informed.

Until you know there are Directors of Photography, and people whose job it is to light scenes or design sets reflecting the protagonist's mindset, how can you be expected to pick up on these things? Recently, I've caught Friend 4 using the word cinematography on occasion - I must have accidentally indoctrinated her.

Casual film watchers only appreciate the superficiality of film, but once you pick up on these things it's like a third eye opening - suddenly, you appreciate the bigger picture. It's about more than "just what happens". Can you remember the first time you realised what I director actually does? For me, it was the last 30 seconds of The Sixth Sense. It hadn't occoured to me that films were actually good before that. I'd enjoyed them, but not truly thought they were "well made". Until then, I didn't have a concept of what "well made could mean". It's the difference between saying "then she was attacked" and spending a paragraph of onomatopoea building up suspense. It's the difference between Ed Wood plonking his camera down and getting people to act in front of it and Spielburg holding the camera at child's-eye view in Close Encounters. It's why I can say "Heat and Broken Flowers were good, but I didn't like them" whereas for the latter, my mother's comment was "that was a bad film". Wrong.

I'm a casual reader - I want a good story, and most likely I miss the things which better readers pick up on which makes "great novels" great. But I'd trounce them at discussing Birth of a Nation any day. But that's it for me and film studies. Not that you need it to become a great director (QT left school at 16, so I've a year up on him...) but it's pretty unlikely I'll manage it anyway (being female and British, but especially female), and it would be more useful for the kinda journalistic work I'm going to end up in.

I've always said I wouldn't become a journalist; it's a running joke between me and the world, which keeps recommending me for journalism competitions, workshops et al. Upstairs, I've a plan a teacher drew me of the best way to start my career as a journalist. But lookie-do at this. Online movie review-and-rant blog and reviewing films for the local paper. Shitake mushrooms. How the hell did that happen?

Last night we watched Road to Perdition. I’d like to say there were a lot of things which could have been better: actually, I think it’d be closer to say there was a lot of things which could have been different.

“Gangster” isn’t one catchall category. You get cool ones, gritty ones, cheery ones. You probaby shouldn't show a girl Goodfellas on a first date - conversely, my sister is addicted to The Black Donnellys*, a now-cancelled gangster show aimed squarely at teen girls. Well this is a gangster film for mums – primarily a sentimental movie-cum-period drama about the relationship between father and son. I’d compare it to The Pursuit of Happyness, only I haven’t seen it so I can’t with any fairness. This isn’t a blinding criticism – some people will love the family focus. But the side of the story which interested me wasn’t the inevitable growing bond between our heroes, but the deep, deep betrayal between Sullivan and his own family. Sullivan loses everything. I like a good friendship, and a good friendship gone sour and broken is even better.

It’s not exactly the film’s fault it didn’t cater to me personally, but it could have tried harder to wring something new about the bonding thing. Having decided to make the journey the center of the story, the plot needed a trim – indeed, they needed to cut back on the scenes I liked. It took far too long to get going. The instant wow is sadly lacking – it falls back into the Godfather tradition of “lets have a party to introduce everyone”. The joy about, say, Run Lola Run is that the first thing that happens is the plot. Straight away, you get to see what you came to see. Road to P makes you wait for about half an hour until the setup ends and the story actually begins. While a leasurly pace can sometimes be praised, this film feels sorta uncomfortable until you get there, on tenterhooks waiting for it to start properly. The plot lurches horribly between upbeat family movie and uber-bleak crime epic. Paul Newman, Daniel Craig and Stanley Tucci (characters I wanted to see more of) disappear for the entire center and are brought back for a tidy resolution. And they make little sense in a film structured as Michael jnr’s nostalgic recollections – how much of those happenings would Mike snr have shared with his son? None whatsoever. So how did he find out about them?

Even the script needed a bit of a polish. Some of the lines were awful, especially between father and son. Not stand-out clangers, but predictable and tired. Here's a sample - it's in spoilertext just in case, but it won't significantly ruin your watch:

Michael Sullivan, Jr.: Did you like Peter more than me?
Michael Sullivan: No. I loved you both the same.
Michael Sullivan, Jr.: You were always... different with me.
Michael Sullivan: Was I? [Sullivan thinks for a while] Well, I suppose it was because Peter was just... such a sweet little boy, you know? And you... you were more like me. And I... didn't want you to be.

Even if you're thinking it, you're hardly going to say it, are you? Especially not Sullivan, who'se not a chatty emotive person. Anything else I can complain about? Seriously, I did like this film, but you wouldn’t know it to read the review, would you? Jeez…I remember. Thomas Newman…
There are very few film musicians I can say “oooooh that’s him!” before the name comes up on the credits (Danny Elfman’s a notable exception). I’ve done it twice for Thomas Newman recently – during Shawshank, and this evening – and it’s because I’ve never been comfortable with him as a composer since I mistook his American Beauty music for A Series of Unfortuante Events and realized they were identical.Is he widely respected? His music seems samey and false to me. Road to Perdition used the same piano motifs as American Beauty – I don’t like to criticize, as this complaint could be leveled at most composers, but he does seem to only ever use the same sound palette.

American Beauty wasn’t meant to be real. The locations were too perfect, the characters virtual archetypes – the plot a deliberate satire on modern life. This isn’t meant as an insult – and the surreality of the whole thing suited Newman’s style (the sad piano, the wistful strings, the occasional tang of glass, metal and I don’t know what suiting the ironic tone. Even the cheesy “perfect movie music” he creates complimented the “perfect life” veneer that that film was all about. In Road to Perdition, the same ingredients went wrong – the strange modern noises were at odds with the sepia tone, and cheesiness tipped over into uncontrolled sentimentality without the acerbic wink to reel it back. Film music should be undetectable. It should support the scene, not prop it up, except where being deliberately contrapuntal with the images. When you notice it, it should be because it is beautiful and perfect. Not because it is mistimed, too intrusive and you want it to go away.

This is a case of the parts being greater than the whole - the plot is, on the whole, average, but the film is still worth a watch for all the trimmings.

The supporting cast are uniformly fantastic - Daniel Craig, who was disappointing in Layer Cake, turns up a relistic and strangely sympathetic performance in what could have been a pantomime role. Stanley Tucci is unrecognisable, but still very impressive as the Corleone-style businessman, with sympathy and practicality turning on a knife's edge. They come to you with smiles, they come as your friends, the people who've cared for you all of your life. And they always seem to come at a time that you're at your weakest and most in need of their help.

Paul Newman is naturally all star. He just can’t say one thing and mean it – he delivers a line, yet always says at least two other thoughts with it. His paternal twinkle at the wake is charming, even as you know that he most likely had the guy scrubbed. I didn’t just enjoy the piano scene because I have a thing for pianos – it was the warm, fuzzy love you could feel. Rooney is stuck neck deep in moral turd for most of this film, and I would have loved to see more of it. As it stands, the basement conversation, the car in the rain, the moments with his son and his beautiful freefall in the Stanley Tucci scene stand out as the best damn bits of the film. I would have like liked much more of him.

Jude Law. He’s young, he’s hot, he’s in the glossies all the time, ergo he can’t act. Right? Wrong. This wasn’t Brando by any means, but I loved his character. Even the way he moved, and drove, and put masses of sugar in his tea and had a really unusual-looking gun were all tiny wonderful character quirks. It’s a beautiful films, and his death photos were wonderfully alluring. I don’t think he’s particularly handsome meself, but in this film he just looks mean.

With such a great bunch of interesting and complex characters waiting on the sidelines, it's a pity they had to focus in on the two worst and least interesting performances of the film. I mean, Tom Hanks. Can this man act? He wasn’t bad, but he was far from good – he rarely changed his expression. Argue, if you like, that it was the Al Pacino school of acting with the eyes, and you’ve got a fair point, but still…he was always wearing a costume. He looked like he was acting; at least, he never ceased looking like Tom Hanks. I didn’t believe him, he felt wrong and uncomfortable. The son too wasn’t great – pretty good by childactor standards, but Dakota Fanning could trounce him any day – which left me unsympathetic to the central plot. At times, this film is like being at a bad party - you're just hanging around hoping somebody interesting's going to show up and start dancing. It remains watchable for these brief, great boogies.

This goes without saying, but the subdued browny colour scheme made me very happy indeed. It's very very pwettyful - reminded me of M Night's films at time, perticularly Unbreakable and Sixth Sense. In fact, now I think of it, there were lots of M-Nighty touches throughout. Conrad L. Hall's a name I'm familiar with - and checking imdb, it seems he's the guy who did Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. What a legend. The ending by the beach is beautifully shot - predictable, but perhaps the fact we know exactly what's going to happen is deliberate? Even if the plot's a drag, its very watchable just for all of this prettyness. This film contains the coolest reverse dolly zoom I have seen in a long time.

Jeez, now it sounds like I didn’t like it. I did like it, It was good and I recommend it to certain people. There's a hell of a lot of fantastic things, let down by the central plot.

It's definitely not recommended for your "cliche crime-fan" who likes their gangsters to be cool, ruthless wiseguys. There's hardly any swearing, very little blood and the mobsters are all thoroughly decent blokes underneath. More Godfather than Goodfellas - more family and rose-tinted glasses, with no street-smarts whatsoever. It's a good gangster film for people who don't like gangster films - it takes out the politics, and focuses on the emotions. And even though this post has been stack full of complaints, I'd be willing to watch it again for those little moments that almost made it great.

*(Take Goodfellas, but remove the music, the slick editing and give it all the little things which make TV inferior to film. Now take a plot surrounding four brothers, including say, the nice one, the impulsive one, the fanciable-doesn’t-want-to-get-involved-but-is-secretly-a-calculating-gangster-genius (now try not to think the words Fredo, Sonny and Michael) Oh, but make it about the Irish mob so nobody notices. And structure it around an unreliable-narrator recounting the events from jail. So the Usual Suspects influence isn’t quite as jarring as the others – Joey Ice Cream is pretty cool. I’m not saying that it’s bad. It has lots of merits – particularly how Joey’s dodgy memories are woven into the storylines. The frenetic story arc (one episode=one day as the various consequences of one little murder gradually get more and more convaluted) is fun to watch, and it has some amusing moments. But it’s got the emotional complexity of a soap opera. Impulsive-brother Jimmie is just vile. His brothers love him, because he's a brother, but we aren't invited to share this affection - compare to Sonny in the Godfather, who makes as many mistakes, but is still ultimately loveable somehow. It really wants to be hip and streetwise, but doesn't manage - the criminals are all desperately nice. I'm not saying that real life criminals are irredeemably evil, but still... Meanwhile, the plot doesn't tally - the brothers are really small-time - they don't have soldiers, or even body guards yet the death toll keeps rising and they certainly don't have the clout to pay off the police. Surely somebody would start investigating if 6 people died in under 2 days? Not to mention the characters left without fingers and toes. It's E.R. meets crime epic, and compared to The Sopranos, it just can’t compete....)