The Silent Partner
Dir: Daryl Duke
1978 thriller The Silent Partner is one of the great films of the late 1970s
that is still overlooked and largely unseen. It stars Elliott Gould as a bank
teller whose intellect is somewhat underused in his mundane day to day role.
When he suspects that his bank is about to be robbed, he takes advantage of the
situation and attempts to commit the perfect crime. However, he underestimates
the armed robber (played by Christopher Plummer) and his life becomes more and
more complicated, as he has essentially become ‘The Silent Partner’. Based on
the novel ‘Think of a Number’ by Danish author Anders Bodelsen, Duke’s
direction is pure Hitchcockian, with a contemporary feel, that almost veers
into giallo but not quite. There is so much I love about this film. Elliott
Gould films of the 1970s are among my favorites of all time. You have classics
like The Long Goodbye and M*A*S*H and you have the overlooked greats like
Capricorn One, Who? and The Silent Partner. There are quite a few actors around
in 1978 who could have played the part but I don’t think anyone could have
played it quite as perfectly as Gould. Christopher Plummer’s villain, a
misogynistic and psychopathic thief who likes to dress in disguise, is a
chilling and unnerving character, terrifying in his unpredictability but also
in the way that he isn’t a super villain as it were, he is defeatable but just
frighteningly persistent. Gould’s character has two ‘love interests’ in the
film but both have real substance to them, rather than being just beautiful
women. Susannah York plays his colleague at the bank who is suspicious and has
secrets of her own, while Celine Lomez plays a femme fatale who is also not who
she first appears to be. The plot is the perfect balance of complexity and
simplicity, brought to life by real story development and brilliant
performances. It’s a film that understands that suspense takes time. There are
no cheap tricks, the story takes place over several months and the smaller
details add to the bigger picture. It’s easy to follow but the audience is
never spoon fed, the plot thickens at a trickle down pace, making it a film you
can really get your teeth into. It’s directed beautifully, with all that glorious flare that make 1970’s films so great – indeed, the best. If that weren’t
enough, it also stars a young John Candy, in one of his first ever screen appearances.
I love how the film stars rather innocently, playful even, and then gets unexpectedly
dark. Elliott Gould actually held a private screening for Alfred Hitchcock, who
thought the film was brilliant. It’s a Brian De Palma film but without the
nonsense, a Hitchcock without the suddenness and a Dario Argento but without
the fantastical element. It’s all of the above but with heaps of intelligence
and and its own individual charm. It couldn’t be made today due to the levels
of security and technology in banks, so it sit well in its era and is another
great example of why 1970s thrillers are still the best. The soundtrack is also
something special, adding its open important level of suspense, and it remains
the only film to be scored by composer and Jazz pianist Oscar Peterson.
Scriptwriter Curtis Hanson would go on to write the brilliant The Bedroom
Window, The Hand That Rocks the Cradle and L.A. Confidential while director
Daryl Duke only made four films in his career. Duke’s films are largely unseen
and unreleased, with his last film bombing at the box office, which I think is
a shame, as I believe he was a rare talent and I would have loved to have seen
more. The Silent Partner did very well in Canada but nowhere else, it’s a
mystery really, as it’s easily one the most entertaining thrillers of the 1970s
and the one of the best Alfred Hitchcock films that Alfred Hitchcock had
nothing to do with. Its last DVD release was limited and marketed as a Reservoir Dogs style heist film - which it isn't - suggesting that the studios that own the rights haven't even bothered to watch it and don't even know what a great film they have in their collection. See it - immediately.
Friday, 23 February 2018
Thursday, 22 February 2018
The Shape of Water
Dir: Guillermo del Toro
It’s funny how Guillermo del Toro has remained a household name all these years when you think about it, as his first few films; Cronos, Mimic and The Devil’s Backbone were overlooked by the mainstream and Blade II and Hellboy were only really embraced by the comic-read nerds. To be fair Hellboy did very well, but the follow up wasn’t as well received as the first. Pan’s Labyrinth got the attention of many as mainstream audiences were opening their minds to world cinema but again, this was followed by Pacific Rim, more Hellboy and Crimson Peak. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan and I’ve loved pretty much everything he’s done, it’s just strange how he has gone from Cronos – one of the greatest vampire/fantasy/horror films ever made, to The Shape of Water, both films are very much of the same ilk, yet one is still overlooked and the other is heralded as one of the greatest films of the year. I wonder how Cronos would do if it were released in now? I’m pretty sure The Shape of Water would remain a cult hit enjoyed by the not so many if it had been made in 1993. While I’m glad films like The Shape of Water are now reaching mainstream audiences, I do feel a little frustrated that it has taken so long. I also feel a little bit sad that film like this that would once have been cult hits and no longer exclusive to those who went to the effort of finding them out. I’m waffling and talking nonsense I’m sure, I just feel a little sad for great films such as Delicatessen, Crimewave and indeed Cronos, that were made around the same time. I digress, The Shape of Water is many things, each one of those things being a success. At its core though is nostalgia. This is a movie made by a brilliant film maker and a prolific lover of all things celluloid. It is beautiful. The set pieces are stunning, the cinematography sublime and the colours pop right out of the screen. I actually thought it was style of content at first but the story does catch up. Even though I didn’t think the editing or overall compositions in the film were that great, I adored the detail. The greens of 1950s cinema come through beautifully, it’s somewhere between The Wizard of Oz and The Red Shoes, hammered home even more so by Richard Jenkins’ character – an advertising painter – having to change a painting depicting a family eating red jelly, to green jelly. The rich red ceilings, the ‘teal’ Cadillac and the ‘Chicago Frieze’ wallpaper from Bradbury & Bradbury, it all looks perfect. The visual style of the era is matched by the exploration of the ideals of era, the hypocrisy of the Cold War, as well as the trends, art and fantasy enjoyed by a post-war society. The idea that Sally Hawkins’ character was an everyday version of Audrey Hepburn was rather lovely. Hepburn typically played everyday women, when she was far from ‘everyday’, but somehow Hawkins is more beautiful as she seems more authentic, more real, so while this is a fantasy film full of nostalgia, it kind of feels like it really is happening, albeit in 1962. Hawkins is Hepburn, Doug Jones is The Creature from the Black Lagoon and Michael Shannon is the government agent in the black suit – all three are perfectly cast and brilliant in their respective performances. The two supporting roles are, however, the really special ones. Octavia Spencer plays Hawkins’ friend, co-worker and interpreter and is thus the voice of our main character. Richard Jenkins is the same, but from a more personal viewpoint. Spencer is obviously black and Jenkins’ character is openly gay – two people who would never have had such high billing or as much dialogue back in the 1950s/1960s. It’s clearly an updated tribute to the era. However, del Toro has always explored that that made him scared as a child, here he looks at a bygone era that echos our current climate that scares him as an adult. The themes cross many lines, you can read a lot into the plot and you’d probably be correct each time, but I guess at its heart is a story of love and acceptance. It’s Beauty and the Beast but set in the early 1960s, with the beast replaced by The Creature from the Black Lagoon. It’s a neat idea, with a great set and brilliant performances. I like it a lot but I don’t think it really deserves the hype it has received. The story itself is borrowed from many different sources, it’s a great tribute but one we’ve seen before and done in a similar style. I can see so many influences in The Shape of Water that I’m honestly not sure what actually belongs to del Toro. To be honest I see too much of Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro in the film for comfort, plus the story is almost exactly the same as Paul Zindel’s Let Me Hear You Whisper and has strong connections with Rachel Ingalls’ Mrs. Caliban. Del Toro apparently approached Hawkins with the idea at an Oscar after party in 2015. He has since said he was rather drunk at the time and it wasn’t a plot that would make a person sound any less drunk – indeed, it’s a great idea – it’s just a little unfortunate that other people had it first. I enjoyed the film very much, the set creators and actors should be congratulated, It’s wonderful that del Toro has brought it to screen so wonderfully but it’s not really his, and that is the film’s big flaw. Indeed, I think I would have liked it a little more had someone like Jean-Pierre Jeunet directed it. I’m starting to think that del Toro is a producer, rather than a director, at least since 2008 anyway - everything up until then has been sublime, even Blade II, which should have been rubbish.
Wednesday, 21 February 2018
Dir: Darren Aronofsky
2017’s Mother! is a tricky film to review. On one hand I have to congratulate director Darren Aronofsky for achieving exactly what he sets out to, but when the aim is to antagonize, aggravate and get under the skin of the viewer, it’s a very hard film to celebrate. The first hour or so is painful viewing, the story lifts ever so slightly once you realise what is in fact going on and what it all means, but before then it is pure guesswork with very few clues. For the first hour or so I actually thought it was a David Cronenberg-inspired film about anxiety that also alluded to abandonment, anthropophobia and mental health issues in general. The title also made me wonder whether it was a film about the anxieties directly linked to motherhood, from the twinkle in the eye to the birth itself. It is regarded as a psychological horror but I think that is a misleading description, it’s actually about destruction. Jennifer Lawrence and Javier Bardem play nameless characters who live in a huge house together, she a homemaker and he a poet. Their idyllic life is thrown into chaos when a mysterious doctor (Ed Harris) comes to stay with them. Soon, his wife (Michelle Pfeiffer) joins him and they make themselves at home, much to the annoyance of Jennifer Lawrence’s she. It was when their two sons (brothers Domhnall and Brian Gleeson) arrived to the house fighting that the penny dropped; they were Cain and Able, their parents were Adam and Eve, making Jennifer Lawrence mother nature and Javier Bardem God. More and more people flock to the house to pay their respects and then to visit the poet, whom they have all become obsessed over. Bardem’s God/poet greets people with open arms – he needs their love in order to live. However, mankind is cruel to mother nature and the last half an hour of the film is a dizzying nightmare of pain and brutality, first directed at the beautiful house she has lovingly built, and then at her physically. The film takes an even darker tone when the mother gives birth (Jesus) and God gives the child to the people, who eventually tear it to pieces. Now, whether or not you believe in God is one thing, we can all agree that at the very least he exists in concept, and Aronofsky’s tale is bang on the money when it alludes to the fact that without love and belief, God is as good as dead. Mother nature on the other hand is real, it’s another word of the environment, Earth really for us humans. We have indeed kicked mother nature in the personals, we pillage the landscape for our own use and have caused more damage in the very short time we have existed on it, than the millions of years before we turned up. We are a cancer to this planet, a tough thing to admit, but undeniable all the same. Aronofsky’s film is a direct allegory of this and is suitably horrible to witness. It really isn’t a subject where you could treat lightly, especially if you want to tell it exactly how it is. The last half hour of the film is devastating and horrific to watch, the 90 minutes beforehand are confusing, irritating and void of pleasure. This is why so many people slated it on its release, but as much as I didn’t enjoy watching it, I have to give credit to Aronofsky for delivering an intelligent and thought-provoking story. It’s the oldest story in the book (literally, it’s basically Genesis) and there is really nothing new about it. Using a house as an allegory for the garden of Eden isn’t that much of a stretch of the imagination either, and yet the film keeps you guessing. It’s a bizarre feeling, when you know you dislike watching something at the same time as knowing that each and every scene is brilliantly realised and executed. It isn’t supposed to be ‘entertaining’ in the classic sense, every part of the film serves a purpose and that purpose is to strike the audience and get as far under their skin as possible. It’s a job well done. Aronofsky has been hugely misunderstood with this film but then all the great directors/film are. He released the following statement as a form of explanation: "It is a mad time to be alive. As the world population nears 8 billion we face issues too serious to fathom: ecosystems collapse as we witness extinction at an unprecedented rate; migrant crises disrupt governments; a seemingly schizophrenic US helps broker a landmark climate treaty and months later withdraws; ancient tribal disputes and beliefs continue to drive war and division; the largest iceberg ever recorded breaks off an Antarctic ice shelf and drifts out to sea. At the same time we face issues too ridiculous to comprehend: in South America, tourists twice kill rare baby dolphins that washed ashore, suffocating them in a frenzy of selfies; politics resembles sporting events; people still starve to death while others can order any meat they desire. As a species our footprint is perilously unsustainable yet we live in a state of denial about the outlook for our planet and our place on it. From this primordial soup of angst and helplessness, I woke up one morning and this movie poured out of me like a fever dream. All of my previous films gestated with me for many years but I wrote the first draft of Mother! in five days. Within a year we were rolling cameras. And now two years later, it is an honor to return to the Lido for the world premiere. I imagine people may ask why the film has such a dark vision. Hubert Selby Jr, the author of Requiem for a Dream, taught me that through staring into the darkest parts of ourselves is where we find the light. "Mother!" begins as a chamber story about a marriage. At the center is a woman who is asked to give and give and give until she can give nothing more. Eventually, the chamber story can't contain the pressure boiling inside. It becomes something else which is hard to explain or describe. I can't fully pinpoint where this film all came from. Some came from the headlines we face every second of every day, some came from the endless buzzing of notifications on our smartphones, some came from living through the blackout of Hurricane Sandy in downtown Manhattan, some came from my heart, some from my gut. Collectively it's a recipe I won't ever be able to reproduce, but I do know this serving is best drunk as a single dose in a shot glass. Knock it back. Salute!" Aronofsky has shown that he is an absolute master of his craft, Mother! is an unpleasant masterpiece, brilliantly accomplished and one that I will enjoy never seeing ever again. It's hated now but mark my words, Mother! will be regarded as an essential classic in years to come.
Tuesday, 20 February 2018
For the Love of Spock
Dir: Adam Nimoy
Adam Nimoy, son of the great Leonard Nimoy, had started working on a documentary with his father about the beloved character Mr. Spock in 2014 to commemorate the 50th Anniversary of Star. It was to focus on the popularity of the character, what made him so popular and the cultural impact he had back then and what it has led to today. Sadly, Leonard Nimoy passed away in 2015 and the globe’s sci-fi fans lost a true hero. Adam Nimoy was determined to continue the project in tribute of his father and because he knew it is what he would have wanted him to do. However, the film because less about Mr Spock and more about the man behind the pointy ears. Adam Nimoy is very honest in his depiction of his father and this certainly isn’t the rose-tinted ‘can do no wrong’ sort of documentary you’d expect from a film about someone who has just died. Adam reveals that he and his father had a very rocky relationship, which gives the audience a very human side to the story and a level of believability. Unlike most documentaries of this nature, For The Love of Spock is free of Hollywood stories of name-dropping and outrageous parties, Nimoy was a grafter and when he wasn’t working he was with his family. Adam widened the original idea to also include examples of other productions Leonard was involved in, something that would cost a great deal of money but was raised easily through crowdfunding, making it the most successful crowdfunded film at the time. The fact that Adam appeared as himself in an episode of The Big Bang Theory and talked about the interview helped hugely, but it is safe to say that the hard-core Trekkies also dug deep, they probably learned nothing they didn’t already know but donated out of love and respect. The archive footage in the film is phenomenal and will please Star Trek fans in particular but Nimoy’s early work is also quite spectacular. Interviewees include William Shatner, George Takei, Walter Koenig and Nichelle Nichols from the original series of Star Trek, as well as Chris Pine, Karl Urban, Simon Pegg, Zoe Saldana and Zachary Quinto from the remake film series. Quinto, who played the updated version of Spock, was set to narrate the film but after so much archive footage emerged narration wasn’t really necessary and it was more apt for Adam to say what was needed. Celebrity Star Trek fans Jim Parsons, Jason Alexander, Neil deGrasse Tyson and J.J. Abrams may not be obviously connected to Nimoy but their interviews serve a purpose and are very entertaining. The interesting thing about the interviews with the new Star Trek cast in contrast to the original is how they all speak of Nimoy. The younger cast are quite gushing, clearly in awe but also speaking of someone they respected, met but never really knew. The original cast are clearly heartbroken and there are times when they clearly find it hard speaking to their late friend’s son so soon after his passing. There is a great sadness to the film but also a great honesty. Nothing is sugar-coated, I feel like I have genuinely learned the truth about one of my childhood heroes and I’m not at all disappointed. The tension, love and friction between Adam and his father never gets in the way of the celebration of his life but it certainly grounds the film. In a funny sort of way the fans play a huge part in the overall story and are almost like a third character, which is maybe why its appeal is wider than the usual fan documentary. Mr Spock’s humanism was always in question in the original show, and it is fascinating how Adam’s documentary compares his father’s humanism with his characters’ without white-washing, sugar-coating, insulting or holding back. Tender, raw, respectful and thought-provoking, it’s an unexpectedly refreshing tribute and exactly the sort of thing the great man himself probably would have approved of but would never have been able to make himself.
Monday, 19 February 2018
The Violent Years
Dir: William Morgan
I love a 1950s exploitation movie but some are much better than others. Written by the infamous Edward D. Wood Jr (or Ed Wood as he is more affectionately referred to), The Violent Years is one of those films whereby the trailer is so much better than the actual film itself. Full of iconic imagery and one-liners, the film is actually more successful when the visuals are used on snap-shot posters or when the dialogue is sampled in popular music (see Ministry’s 1989 album ‘The Mind is a Terrible Thing To Taste’). It’s one of those films where the poster has adorned many a student dormitory even though the students have never seen it. I do love a bit of Mystery Science Theater 3000 but it isn’t nice to mock older films because they didn’t have the same budget as modern films have but I do believe that movies such as The Violent Years are fair game. As much as I didn’t really like it, it is also fascinating from a historical angle. I’m a huge fan of film history and the 1950s American exploitation films are as interesting as they are puzzling. They depict a rather strange social mood of the time and played on the fears of an older generation. These films were made by young people and they were tongue-in-cheek films for young people, although they knew that the older generation would be outraged and both flock to see it and raise its profile by openly condemning it. Exploitation films such as The Violent Years are regularly discovered by a younger generation, and in some respects they never go out of retrospective fashion. It’s not a great film like I said but it has plenty of classical moments that I couldn’t help raising a smile to. It is ridiculous, badly acted and full of nonsensical moral preaching. The contradictory message of ‘work hard’ seems lost, when the parents of the juvenile delinquents are punished for working hard (because they have to to make ends meet) rather than looking after their kids. The juvenile delinquents are always of a wealthy background in these types of films, which I’ve always found to be a wonderfully delightful way of kicking the target audience and angering the sort of people that would essentially make these film the infamous cult movies that they are. Of course it isn’t just being spoiled that turns the kids to crime, it is also communism, a system of social organisation in which all property is owned by the community and each person contributes and receives according to their ability and needs, that is represented here by the murder of a policeman. It would be funny if it weren’t for the fact that so many gun-owning citizens still believe in such nonsense but I digress, it is important not to take such film seriously and remember that this story was written by the same man that wrote Bride of the Monster. Okay, so that is slightly unfair, as he also wrote Glen or Glenda, which is genius and Jail Bait which deserves far more credit than it has been given but The Violent Years is still as about as realistic and representative of actual social unrest as Godzilla is in Japan – ridiculous but a bit of fun.
Friday, 16 February 2018
Brawl in Cell Block 99
Dir: S. Craig Zahler
2017’s Brawl in Cell Block 99 is only S. Craig Zahler second film as director, and yet, I’m already a dedicated fan and think I will be as long as he is making films. Bone Tomahawk was a straight to video western that looked like it starred Kurt Russell purely because he still had that amazing mustache from The Hateful Eight, and because The Hateful Eight had just been released to much hype and success. If you had told me it was made by The Asylum I would have believed you. However, it was recommended to me by a reliable source and it blew my mine. It was the surprise film of 2015, absolutely one of the best of the year and probably the best cannibal western ever made. Bone Tomahawk was a mix of genres with a hint of grindhouse but with a quality script and character development. He understands that all of the popular horror/grindhouse/b-movie/Midnight Movie/cult films (what ever you want to call them) work due to character development. Great effects, low-budget gore and camera trickery goes a long way but the truly great cult films of the underground are the ones that have strong characters. It was true of Bone Tomahawk and it is now true of Brawl in Cell Block 99. It is clear that S. Craig Zahler is a grindhouse fan, Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez made the genre popular again with their Grindhouse collaboration and many new ‘tribute’ fans were made – very few being worth the effort. The truth is, grindhouse aren’t great, indeed, the only ones watchable are so bad, they’re good. Zahler has changed all that. Bone Tomahawk was a gutsy western with horror overtones and a pinch of grindhouse, Brawl in Cell Block 99 on the other hand is neo-grindhouse with a slice of John Carpenter. It’s glorious. Like all good thrillers, the story keeps you guessing right until the end. At over two hours, the film takes its time and develops the characters and the story properly but the film never feels overlong – far from it in fact. Set in prison, the first half tells the story of the crime, while the second half deals with prison life and our protagonists journey through the system. It is riveting in the first half and then next level exciting in the second, cue the John Carpenter-esque synth music and the rich and moody scenes of devastation. There are strong Assault on Precinct 13 vibes about the film as well as a few exploitation prison films from the 70s but it is very much its own animal. It is pretty brutal. I was expecting violence and maybe a bit of gore but my goodness, this film gave me bad dreams. However, the special effects are proper old-school prosthetic style, right out of classic 70s horror/b-movie/exploitation/grindhouse films. The prosthetics are actually quite obvious, exaggerated even, to magnificent effect. If you’re a fan of old b-movies of this sort you will not be disappointed. It makes many of Quentin Tarantino’s recent offerings look like cartoons in comparison. Don Johnson has reinvented himself as a bit of a b-movie villain of late, so having him as the sadistic prison warden seemed a bit clichéd but actually, it’s the best he’s been for a very long time and if you’re going to watch only one of his recent b-movies, then this is the one. It also has Udo Kier as a sinister villain, which is music to my ears as I adore Kier and no one quite does villain like he does. Jennifer Carpenter is on top form and I believe this is her best film to date but our protagonist left me baffled. It’s such a great script with some brutal scenes and a heavy mood, so why on earth would you hire Vince Vaughn in the main role? Vaughn has been in some good films and is generally likable in each one of them, but he has only really been great in Swingers and that came out twenty-one years before Brawl in Cell Block 99. He clearly worked hard and believed in the script, all of the physical and mental training he did paid off too as this is the second best performance from him of his career after Swingers. Casting Vaughn was a genius move by S. Craig Zahler, one could suggest he was ‘doing a Tarantino’ by casting an actor you wouldn’t associate with such themes but I would argue that Vaughn put in more effort than any of Tarantino’s surprise castings. It’s wonderful to see the next stage of a genre long thought over. Real grindhouse isn’t about the quality of the copy you are watching – no one watched old VHS films because they liked the fuzz, lines and crackles, that was just the way it was with old rare movies. To see the genre resurrected with crisp visuals and beautifully lit compositions is a real treat and the script is awesome – again, far juicier and far less cartoonish than your typical Tarantino. Zahler is the director I’ve been waiting a long time for.
Thursday, 15 February 2018
The New World
Dir: Terrence Malick
I have a huge problem with Disney’s Pocahontas. Pocahontas, real name Matoaka – later Rebecca Rolfe – was an exploited child. She was said to be have been between 10-12 years old when John Smith claimed her, so every time I see one of my young nieces – or any young girl – wearing a Disney Pocahontas dress or playing with a Pocahontas doll, I shudder with disgust, knowing that a big company is rewriting a nasty piece of history to sell stuff to innocent youth. Pocahontas was snatched as a child to be the sex-slave of an older man who had been at sea for many months. John Rolfe may well have loved her, but she was ripped from her home, exploited and died at a young age. She grew up in paradise and died in Gravesend of all places. She is not a ‘Disney Princess’. So when in 2005, the great but elusive Terrence Malick, who had made four fine films at that point – decades apart, announced that he was going to make a film about the founding of the Jamestown Settlement, it was met with excitement and jubilation. His 1998 epic The Thin Red Line was brilliant, a film well worth waiting twenty years for, and the fact that we only had to wait seven years for his next felt like a dream come true. However, as wonderfully dreamlike it was and how beautiful it looked, The New World represented the film whereby Malick’s legendary status was shattered. It looked like a perfume advert but wasn’t anywhere near as entertaining. One man’s ‘dreamlike’ is another mans ‘whishy-washy’, sure the colours popped right out of the screen but there was no depth to it. It felt like being given some fruit juice that says it is free from colour and additives, only to discover it glows in the dark. And your lips fall off. It’s not very often something can be so beautiful-looking and also so nauseating (although an ex-girlfriend springs to mind – meow). It’s a million times more watchable than Malick’s later films; To The Wonder and Knight of Cups, but I found it hard work all the same. I’m not sure Colin Farrell was best cast as John Smith, although I’m not sure anyone could be accused of really acting in the film. Q’orianka Kilcher is the best thing about the film, her performance of Matoaka is an impressive debut and I respected the fact that she was only 12 when she played the part as she was in real life. I think the only other actors you could accuse of good performances are Christopher Plummer, David Thewlis and Eddie Marsan. Christopher Plummer’s part was cut to ribbons and when he discovered that one of his characters most important speeches had been reduced to background noise he vowed never to work with Malick again. Thewlis’ talents were wasted yet again and Marsan’s brilliant scene was only seconds long. I will say that I respect the rules that Malick imposed on himself and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki; No artificial lights, no crane or dolly shots - just handheld Steadicams, everything to be shot in the subjective view, all shots in deep-focus (foreground and background visible and focused), camera crew encouraged to shoot unexpected things that might happen/catch their eye that instinct tells them they should film and no shot deemed to have visual strength shall not be used. The problem is however, that as Emmanuel Lubezki later admitted. Most of these rules were broken, artificial light was used often and there are plenty of shallow-focus shots. Malick was sent a bottle of champagne from Kodak, after they learned that he was the first director to use over one million feet of their film stock. Great for Kodak, but for me this is a sign of terrible direction. Christian Bale later spoke of Malick’s directing style and said he wanted to test the director and see what he’d do if he just walked out of a shot. Apparently Malik just followed him and there were crew members everywhere running away and jumping into bushes. Malick filmed the movie around an already completed score (rather than the other way round) and almost all of the dialog had to dubbed in post-production because Malick – the director! – could be heard talking in the background. This greatly respected and mysteriously elusive director seemed to be something of a charlatan. I’ve got a lot of time for the experimenters and the eccentrics but The New World is the work of an amateur director and a brilliant cinematographer. Could Badlands, Days of Heaven and The Thin Red Line have been luck? He got in trouble for his timekeeping during Days of Heaven and didn’t work again for twenty years, but everything he’s made since The New World has been samey, ‘dreamlike’ and about as nauseating as it gets. Calvin Kline should sue.