Bobby Fischer Against the World

Bobby Fischer Against the World (2010), Sawako Decides (2010) and Sawdust and Tinsel (1953)

Caught the first Bristol screening of this documentary with a good friend of mine. He said "it's about chess, and therefore was worth seeing". I said "yes let's go". It's been a week of mixed results to be honest, as i've visited the Watershed cinema three times and come away feeling ambivalent each time, disappointed yet pleased. I don't actually watch films very often, and I haven't been watching films avidly since I finished university for the first time in 2008.

This satisfying ambivalence is in part what I like best about film. To some film studies is classed as a frivolous degree, though the same was said of English literature. Though its true that its a popularist form of art and it's primary function is to entertain. Its More engaging to see something new, either at the cinema or sticking a VHS or DVD in and pressing play with an wide array of expectations.

For instance, you might be putting on a classic, or a renowned recent film, you may have no expectations beyond poster art or the blurb on the back of the box, you may have heard negative criticism, or be watching something made by or with people you don't know or don't like. More than anything, seeing something new appeals to those notions of being transported. Often people talk this way about the effect of the darkened cinema, the show, or the journey of a night out. I think this is true of many scenarios, as it is the content that holds you and not the surroundings.

As a side note, its ironic that anti-piracy adverts, and commercials celebrating the 'experience' of cinema underplay or ignore the content itself. Is it against cinema to rent or buy a DVD for instance?


I've gone off on a bit of tangent, since I was planning to talk about a film not film itself. Returning to the Watershed, I saw Sawako Decides, mainly as an excuse to see something I had no idea of, and Bergman's excellent though tragic Sawdust and Tinsel. I can't deny that I have a bit of an infatuation with Japan, that some of my friends consider stereotypically western. While I didn't really enjoy Sawako Decides, nor did the quiet audience I watched it with, I liked it's take on issues of ambition and family. Both of which it appears to suggest, needent be rose-tinted or particularly exceptional.

The main problem I had with the film was its central character, who while searching for personality, never really feels like a character. In addition, the film was stuffed with quirky supporting characters, most of which sporting their own more engaging hang ups. I liked her self-loathing uncle a lot particularly his ability to be responsible when sober and a chauvinist mess when drunk.


Sawdust and Tinsel was better. The story concerns a travelling circus at what looks like the turn of the twentieth century. Barely scraping by the circus is hopeful that their fortunes will change when they find support from a local theatre in the ringmaster's home town. Again I wasn't totally won over, as at times it ran like a stock Bergman tragedy, full of hope and humour in its first act, with a decidedly sad turn in the final act. That isn't to say it was not moving and unique. It has some wonderful expressionist moments in which the digetic sound drops out during action scenes, such as the clown fetching his duplicitous wife from a group of soldiers. Lots of guilt, regret, and barely contained pride, with offbeat uncomfortable men, and beautiful knowing calculating women. Or am I being facetious? Perhaps, though I'd certainly see it again.

Bobby Fischer Against the World then, like I say I saw on a recommendation, and really as an excuse to go out. I didn't have any allusions as to what it would be like. I didn't even bother to check if it was a documentary or not. I like chess though, I haven't played it in a while, but y'know, I know what to do.

The film concerns the titular Bobby Fischer, a exceptional American chess master who came to prominence from a very young age as one of the world's best in the 1960s and 70s. Raised alone by his equally ambitious mother, Fischer took to chess from the age of six and instantly showed a real talent for it. Unfortunately and perhaps inevitably, the commitment he put into chess fostered an anti-social and paranoid disposition within him. Essentially Bobby had a perfect mind for chess but not for ordinary life, as he was often difficult and demanding with his few friends and disparate family.

The film charts his rapid ascent to victory as the 1972 chess world champion in an extraordinary title fight staged in Iceland against the Russian master Boris Spassky. Fischer though turned away from chess and disappeared from public prominence, choosing not to defend his crown and began dropping out of contact with everyone he knew. Hereafter the film details his rising paranoia and cynicism, most evident in his extreme anti-Semitism.

Fischer reappeared in the 1990s completely out of the blue, taking part in a controversial 'revenge' chess match Spassky in Yugoslavia in the midst of the war that was engulfing the crumbling country. Some time later Fischer was infamously arrested in Japan for taking part in the second Spassky match. The matter was resolved when he was granted asylum in Iceland, where he remained until his death in 2005.

Phew! What a difficult life to summarise!

A perfect subject for a film, since it has so many tantalising questions, such as the backdrop of the cold war during Fischer's world championship win. Or his disgusting racism made all the more curious since Fischer was Jewish. Then there's the game of chess itself and the whole make up of a world championship, with it's strategising, mind games and adherence to its own unique traditions and rituals. Perfect opportunity for several films even. Unfortunately, the film suffers from taking a superficial look at it's subject and an hugely inconsistent tone.

The result of these flaws is a film that gleefully recounts Fischer's story in a sensational manner, that is as hung up on the changing image of celebrity and the images the media produces than it is on what it purports to be about, namely the significance of Fischer and his life in context with ideas about sport, imperialism, and psychology. Worse still - and this is cruel to type - but the film shouldn't really have even been released at the cinema. It bore all the hallmarks of a TV documentary, it was even produced by HBO with the BBC. Throughout were gimmicky inter-titles and talking heads (each with their own annoying camera angles and colour schemes).

All I could think of was how much better Senna (2010) had been, since it had dispensed of talking heads and had dispensed of much of Ayton Senna's life to tell a better story. The Fischer film played like they had gathered even bit of footage available had attempted to cram it all in. Scenes in Iceland, from another movie about Fischer no less, felt particularly tacked on, shown him arguing as if this was enough to convey how deluded he had become. In some ways, the comparison between Senna and Fischer makes sense, since the Brazilian was part of a sport determined by audience, one that cannot function without the media, where every aspect is governed by advertising. Even world championship chess pales, a world championship the film makers emphasise was a huge worldwide draw.

The insights of Senna assembled almost entirely from TV footage reveal a man pushing and being pushed by the media-machine in the midst of fighting for formula one world championships. We get a sense of how he dealt with it all, and for the most part was successful in racing and in his private life. Bobby Fischer is instead a man who can't deal with his life very well, and a life of fame only isolates him further. Sure he likes some fame and the money to go with it, but he remains incomplete and trapped. Despite the film conveying his many predicaments, the film never finds a balance to separate him from chess and concentrate on how good his chess was.

My friend mentioned after the screening that the centrepiece of the film, the 1972 title match, wasn't shown as it developed. We aren't actually shown chess. The game isn't shown in a meaningful way. There's the odd move analysed, but little more. To be brutal, it's a film about a chess player that doesn't show much chess and doesn't discuss player away from chess.

In any case, Fischer is a fascinating complex man, I just would have preferred to learn about him in a more subtle manner, either through his chess or focussed on his life outside of the sport.

(as always, i'll polish this entry another day, it's late and I need to sleep)

Chaplin at Keystone

My first piece of work for another website has gone up at 'The Void' (http://the-void.co.uk). It's a nice little site that over a few years has built up an impressive catalogue of film reviews.

Its here: http://the-void.co.uk/dvd-review/dvd-chaplin-keystone-062/

I was given the opportunity to review a new Charlie Chaplin boxset recently released by the BFI. I've never been much of a Chaplin or silent comedy fan, sure I like both, but i'm not too passionate about either. That said, I really enjoyed the films in the Chaplin at Keystone boxset. It was a box that was effectively put together, by that I mean, the quality of film prints and soundtracks were excellent. The liner notes in particular were extremely helpful when flicking through thirty-five films, and saved me the trouble of looking on wikipedia to find my bearings.

So i'd appreciate it if you'd give it a read.

Be Right Back

Sorry for the lack of updates. I've been aiming to post once of twice a month. I won't be posting another for at least another week. This is because i'm finishing up my MA dissertation. Its on three of Hayao Miyazaki's films, my favourites of course, the three are My Neighbour Totoro, Kiki's Delivery Service and Spirited Away.

So here are my favourite pieces of music from each film:

"Tonari No Totoro" by Joe Hisaishi and sung by Azumi Inoue


"Hareta Hi Ni..." by Joe Hisaishi


"Ano Natsu he" by Joe Hisaishi

Accidental Appropriateness

As if my own remarks hadn't already underlined how out of date I was when talking about limiting film locations in my entry yesterday, Steve Rose has published an article on the Guardian website about the very same thing. In my case I said that I couldn't think of many new films that use the location gimmick, whereas Rose's whole piece pours over the plethora of films that do exactly that. His opening gambit is really his only point:

Single-location thrillers used to be a chance for film-makers to show off their virtuosity in constrained circumstances, like Hitchcock's Lifeboat or Open Water, but now they're just starting to look like a cheap and easy way to get attention.

Anyway, the article is here.

To be fair, I wasn't talking about horror and thrillers which use a single room. I was talking about scriptwriters and filmmakers aiming for economy of place. Die Hard (1988) isn't set in one room, but the skyscraper and the surrounding area contain everything in a tidy fashion.

This entry is seventeen years out of date, at least.

I am about to ask a lot of pointless questions, and I won't be following them up.

I’ve been thinking about the Die Hard scenario, by this I mean the novelty of a particular space being the site of a hostage scenario. It was a high-concept idea back in the late eighties and early nineties. The Die Hard series played out the ridiculous progression rather well, it went from, Terrorist’s hi-jack a skyscraper, to an international airport, to the city of New York, to the whole of the United States. In each film logic dictated that a New York cop (Willis) could resolve the situation in a slam-bang manner picking off the terrorists with a combination of absurd violence and swearing. I really like the films, although the third one isn’t much good, they shouldn’t have ditched the Christmas theme either, as without what felt like a violent fairytale aspect, they seemed like run-off-the-mill action films.

So Die Hard (1988), which was and is still a very good action film, spawned a slew of imitators, Die Hard on a boat (Under Siege(1992)), on a plane (Executive Decision(1996)), in a sports stadium (Sudden Death (1995)), in a hospital (Hard Boiled (1992)) and so on (although i'm running low on ideas).

The hostage narrative isn’t really much different from the siege or disaster movie, and you could lump films as unlikely as Phone Booth (2002) and 12 Angry Men (1957) into the mix. Essentially any film that is about the location more than the characters could be included. You might say that Phone Booth and 12 Angry Men were all about the characters, I mean the latter especially is a terrific ensemble and real issues as oppose to blowing up a plane with a Zippo lighter. But in all a lot of these films the characters have to be exceptionally ordinary. By this I mean they are exceptional, but they are defined completely by their relation to the location. Sometimes there will be average joes, and other times we will see supervillains/international terrorists (or what have you), holidaying priests, secret agents. But why were these films so popular? And for what reason are they out of favour? In recent years disaster films tend toward numerous locations (2012 (2009), The Day After Tomorrow (2004)), action movies all seem to be structured like globe-trotting bond films. At what size does a location lose its novelty? Die Hard just about held on to this location credibility in the turgid third film with the city setting, before throwing it out gleefully in the fourth film (which I liked better). The latter was a lot more fun, but it resembled the second Terminator film oddly enough. I can’t help but recall the remake of Assault on Precinct 13 (2005), which ditches the police precinct for a nearby wood, thus stripping the film of its central novelty. In any case it matters little, the film was lost by that point. How many locations can a film have before all are devalued?



Returning to Phone Booth, which was probably my favourite high-concept film of the last decade, I really loved how everything was arranged by the booth. Larry Cohen's script probably read like an asset and flaw for the producers, since it limits everything, but it kept the story tight, resulting in a perfectly watchable eighty or so minute film. Hell, one of my other faves of the last decade was United 93 (2006), which if it wasn’t based on a true story, probably would have been called a serious die hard on a plane. In both films, the novelty of the location actually enriches the characters, which are the typical focus of most films. So as much as I like the Bourne films, the characters merely trot around Europe from one fight or plot point to the next, with the spaces appearing as little for than convenient backdrops. Of course it helps that these are films about a character with a lack of character. This to me goes back to a real staple of the genre, North By Northwest (1959). This film makes little secret that its central character Roger 'O' Thornhill is empty inside (the ‘O’ stands for nothing, so he says). The locations that stitch together the plot matter little, but in place or a fight, or say another fight, or an interrogation, or a fight perhaps, Cary Grant’s character actually changes and develops positively.

Now i'm not knocking action films (well maybe a little), but it seems ironic that a firm grasp on a few locations, even in an exploitation film, can be a stage for engaging situations and characters. It's also ironic that the further cinema goes from theatre, which generally restricts action to a few locations, the worse a sense of place is conveyed. A big part of cinema has been to break away from Theatre, which I still think is the biggest influence on the medium. Theatre adaptations have been a major part of cinema for much of its existence, in response we get ideas like total cinema, where all elements of sound and vision work in harmony for a kind of full expression. But visual virtuosity and good storytelling don't always come together, and stagey films for all their flaws are often very pointed. Some of the best classic-era Hollywood films are fairly straight takes on theatre. I'm pleased that all of the major adaptations of The Front Page didn't tamper with the locations very much. Howard Hawks' His Girl Friday (1940) manages to be one of the quickest and funniest films and having a stable location really helps keep the audience in touch with the jokes and the plot. Can you imagine it being made in this manner today?



All of which brings me to my initial and stupid question. What is an appropriate setting for a Die Hard-type scenario? I'm in the library at the moment, and I couldn’t help but ponder if it would be ridiculous in a good or bad way. What possible reason could a character hi-jack such a place? I mean for instance Dog Day Afternoon (1975) depicted a bank robbery that fuelled by payment for an operation, so I suppose any scenario is possible. Once people are involved and not their jobs importance anything can happen. Just suppose an old fashioned style robbery of the staff and visitors was conducted but went wrong? Would the book novelty hold up? Or is the flaw of a library that all the floors look the same? What about a post office then? Surely that’s been done, hasn’t there been a film about the IRA 1916 Easter Rising which partially took place in a post office in Dublin? What about a leisure centre? Or a car park? For instance, imagine any location in any bond film, let’s say the multi-story car park in Tomorrow Never Dies (1997). Had the film revolved around that one location might we have been able to like any of the characters? Surely the Bond films have run out of new locations, isn’t a dramatic reduction the only place left to go? Anyway, there’s no point having a pop at a film series as facile as Bond, the whole point is that they are the same. At its very best it's good trash. But imagine for a moment describing an action film purely by its locations, surely an important aspect. These are just a couple of films I like, Die Hard becomes skyscraper and surrounding area film, The Killer (1989) is Hong Kong film set in posh homes, bars, car parks, the open sea, a church, a small apartment, a hospital. Thinking about this, I’d love to see versions of action films if the script was rewritten to only take place on one set, I wonder if it would make much difference, now that would be real armchair theatre.

To end this entry I’ll list a few places I’d like to see as central forthcoming films, they make have been done already of course. A cafe (i'm starting small), a music studio, a cinema, a bakery, a nail bar, a hardware store, a kitchen, a library, a warehouse, a penguin enclose in a zoo, Lucasfilm studios (preferably a zombie film for that one), a natural spring, a hedge. Maybe that’s enough. I suppose my next post will have to be about films with two novel locations.

(this will be edited for grammar and spelling, and coherence eventually)

Knight Movies

Knight and Day is currently making the rounds on the billboards and buses of the UK. I'm no fan of Tom Cruise, and I certainly don't have much time even for his acclaimed performances such as his turn in Magnolia. For all intents and purposes his new film appears to have no ambition, other than to be a mild summer distraction. It doesn't look promising, and I don't really care for his co-star Cameron Diaz. But, I'm actually rather glad that determiningly average blockbuster fare still gets produced, rather than the barrage of 'event-pictures' that land each year. That said, seeing the Cruiser's creepy face pop up surrounded by explosions then racing off with Diaz had me recoiling in my cinema seat when watching the trailer earlier this year.

Instead, the most notable aspect of the film, for me, is its title: Knight and Day. Its a decidedly meaningless name, with a mild pun that could connote the overview of countless films. In fairness it has the semblance of meaning, as oppose to say, Made of Honour, which, I recall Mark Kermode asking with genuine sincerity something like: "does it mean anything? I don't think it does, but have I missed it?". What I really like is the the overworked word of Knight. A quick look at Imdb reveals numerous punning Knight films, such as: Knight Moves (1992) (its about chess duh!), Bachelor Knight (1947) (a retitling of The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer), A Knight in Camelot (1998), Street Knight (1993), Knight Club (2001) (looks particularly bad!), Devil's Knight (2003), there's also a load of 40s and 50s cartoons that use the pun, which points to the simplistic sophistication it carries. Unfortunately, this quick look hasn't brought up any Knight films with lead actors having Knight as their surname, that would underline the point almost too well!

When I first read about Tom Cruise's new film I thought about my favourite director Michael Powell. Prior to becoming a director, Powell worked doing pretty much every small job in cinema that could possibly be paid for. In the mid-1920s he took a job re-editing foreign silent films for the English market, one such film was A Knight In London (1928). Powell writes (or should that be knights?):

The film was screened. It starred Lilian Harvey and Robin Irvine and was directed by Lupa Pick. It was a comedy, a thin one, even its title, A Knight in London seemed to apologise for it. I could almost hear the pun being explained to its German producers: "Knight - keine Nacht ist, aber A Night in London ist nicht gut. Mit 'k' ist besser fur England." Then, desperately: It's a joke!" The polite blank faces nod hopefully. It is an English joke.
from page 194 of A Life in Movies.

What I like about this, is the sheer thinness of the joke, a play on the word night, that would require either a painfully literal film about a Knight, or a title that bears no relation to the content. In either case, ones expectations would be lowered. Who would honestly expect much from a film with a modern day setting which uses the word Knight in the title? Knightriders (1981) is the only one I'll excuse. I mean c'mon, knights on drag bikes, that's both literal and ridiculous. Not particularly funny, but at least it doesn't follow this synopsis:

June Havens finds her everyday life tangled with that of a secret agent who has realized he isn't supposed to survive his latest mission...

Knight and Day, at the level of its title is fails to be appropriate, funny, literal or diverting. Which all brings me back to my initial point, that the title of the film is the most interesting aspect about the film, by way of being anonymous. Good job!

Bad Music, Bad Movies

Film-makers are idiots, most of them are, or at least the people who choose the soundtracks are. Anyway, its someone's fault that music is often used in a revisionist manner. Let me explain.

I'm not sure where it all started but American Graffiti isn't a bad bet. What i'm talking about is the selective use of music in cinema to present a past where consciously good music exists. A case in point, American Psycho, not a bad film, having its cake an eating it with a critique of eighties materialism and style, while revelling in it. Famously, our 'hero' Patrick likes bad music, Huey Lewis. This is countered with 'good' music in the form of the early club scene, where we hear True Faith by New Order. I love New Order, and it is one of my favourite songs, but lets be a little more honest, the club should be playing dross. Apparently bad music doesn't exist in the imaginations of film makers unless they are consciously describing it as so. Look at Violent Cop, from 1989, where our club, which isn't a nice place, plays extremely loud dated house music.

For example, would it be easier to believe in the characters of a Wes Anderson movie, if each one didn't have such perfectly manicured taste? People like rubbish, we should stop pretending they don't.

British films can't escape this, and are arguably more guilty than most when it comes to neat musical use (Trainspotting, Withnail and I). This Is England, Shane Meadows' film about the presence of right wing politics, and skinhead culture in the north of England in the early eighties is a prime example. One scene in particular stands out for me with a stunning lack of imagination, when we see Shaun our lead, running home from school. He passes a newsagents that is blurting out the superb Tainted Love by Soft Cell. Yeah, Tainted Love; only one of the key songs of the eighties, a song that links 60s R&B to Northern Soul and Synth Pop. Once again, where is the rubbish that people had to sit through? Its too big a song for a small usage, it doesn't underscore a point, beyond, pronouncing that it is 1982. Admittedly, I have to give some kudos to the film-makers for including Since Yesterday by Strawberry Switchblade, even if it is the wrong year. (Have a look yourself at this link for a too good to be true playlist). My point, is that bad music, or at least critically derided music defines the past as well if not better than 'good' music. Now with a raft of nineties-set films coming out, i'm having to experience the musical revisionism in film that has plagued nostalgic films set in the previous decades. Expect to hear Paranoid Android rather than the Macarena.

I feel I must mention that I am not arguing that nostalgic soundtracks are fuelling this trend. It has gone on for a long time, and in the case of soundtracks, film soundtracks made up of new popular music have been around since the advent of sound-film. The Graduate is probably the film that kick-started that trend with its Simon and Garfunkel soundtrack (looks like the AC/DC Iron Man 2 CD isn't such a new idea after all). Commercial pressure is a part of it, but film-makers, mainstream or otherwise should know better, and any blame should rest at their feet.

At the present, the only use of music I can think of that uses 'good' and 'bad' well is episode two of the first series of the TV series Spaced. In that episode, Daisy and Tim are hosting a party. Daisy decides to kick things off by putting on her ten-year-old homemade cassette compilation. Tim's reaction sums up perfectly the reaction we should have: "What is this? This is rubbish. We should be listening to firm young melodies, kicking tunes, thumping bass... God I sound so stupid".


"Stop It!"

Great Movie Writing

This entry is an excuse to hold on to someone else's brilliant blog post. The original is at Media Slog, at this link: http://www.cneil.com/2009/05/most-impressive-line-of-prose-in-movie.html. So I can't take any credit.

The Most Impressive Line of Prose in a Movie Review

Brandon Fibbs wrote the following lines in a movie review:

This is another of those movies in which one character says the inevitable line, "You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met" despite the fact that there is nothing whatsoever in the script to support the claim. Just once, I want that line to be uttered in a movie about a mid-19th century Amazon explorer who lost one of his arms to ravenous piranha and the other to pigmy cannibals and still managed to climb Mount Kilimanjaro blindfolded and backwards while wearing a tutu. Instead, it’s nearly always applied to exceedingly drab, near 30-something-year-old men wallowing in life’s doldrums and dead end jobs with absolutely zero ambition.

Writing just doesn't get any better than that.

This appeared in a review for an R-rated movie that I haven't seen and don't particularly want to publicize. However, I reckon you can search for it on his site.

Brandon Fibbs.com

Good? Average? Too Charlie Brooker? I liked it anyway.

Family Plot - A 'Hitchcock'

Just saw Alfred Hitchcock's Family Plot (1976). It was his last film and not a bad way to conclude a fifty year career. A few things came to mind whilst watching it.

First of all, it's a lovely movie with a nasty edge, and also one that shows a great deal more humanity than many of his late-era works. The last time he allowed such warmth in his work was in small moments in Psycho or North By North-West. The two central couples are good together, and while the villains display a void of feeling bordering on aggressiveness, each pair spends time together that is portrayed as genuine as oppose to cynical. I certainly found the chemistry between the four to be more appealing than Paul Newman and Julie Andrews in 1966's Torn Curtain. I think the chemistry between even the villains is important for empathy. This connection with the characters pays off to the point in which I found myself asking whether I'd like William Devane's character Arthur to succeed. I mean, he had a bad childhood, and sure he's no Norman Bates, but I liked him.

Second. I really adore Bruce Dern. He's one of those actors that speaks with a such a comforting and warm voice. He is also a great physical actor and while perhaps rightly confined to small character roles and not star performances, he is excellent and unique in most roles I have seen of his. For example, Bruce Dern is the attraction in Silent Running. Compare that film with last years hit-science fiction film Moon, which centres around the performance of Sam Rockwell. I don't have a problem with small casts, but I could watch Dern intently while Rockwell was tiresome. (As a side note, Dern reminds me of Scott Walker for some reason).

Barbara Harris matches Dern well and they play off each other nicely, I see them as a better pair than even Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint in North By North-West. What's really nice though, is the feel of the film as facilitated by the banter and adventures of these lead stars. I think they hark back to the funny couples of Hitchcock's British work.



Third. It is 'a Hitchcock'. But perhaps its the time period, or the small time locations, but it has the feel of a TV episode. I don't mean this in a bad way, Its just in passing I occasionally thought I was watching an episode of Qunicy! It's a Hitchcock in the sense that it recalls a few of his great movies. Strangers on a Train springs to mind, with the back and forth between our protagonists and antagonists.

What most pleased me, however, was that it is not a bloody spy movie, or a gimmicky movie. I liked The Birds, and its masterfully made, but it always feels like a follow-up to Psycho, meant to ride an outlandishness. Of course, Hitch has done that many times. As for spy movies, I thought that Torn Curtain and Topaz (the bits I could stay awake for) were inferior movies and and were far from his 'true calling'. The sixties were full of spy films, and the James Bond series led the way. A lot of those spy films were crass and had little substance, and most appeared to be merely an excuse to mix stunts with fights. Seeing Hitchcock films that aped Bond was a sad sight. Especially so since he had mastered the genre, and sent it up brilliantly with North By Northwest. I feel the same way about Michael Powell, who got stuck making episodes of the Espionage TV series in the 1960s and made a couple of bland war films in the 1950s.

Forth. Now, what I really did not like in Family Plot was the music. I wrestled with my thoughts on the matter, and I'm aware of my own tastes and the over exposure of John Williams (Spielberg films, Star Wars). A strong use of music is used in a lot of William's most effective and famous scores. But anyone who watched a lot of films in the last thirty years will be aware of how successful and influential Steven Spielberg was. As a child I even watched cartoon shows produced by Spielberg that had the Williams 'touch'. I am sick of his sound, and I didn't like it much in Family Plot.

The problem I have is not with the strong use, which is present in many of Hitchcock's best films. The problem is with Williams everything-but-the-kitchen-sink arrangements. Williams absolutely plasters the film, the instrumentation, has a full orchestra, electronic effects (Moogs?), sound-fx, harpsichords, and even choirs. Now, i'm not saying Hitchcock didn't want it, but it was a mess. And a saccharine one at that. I can't stand the 'Williams flute', the OTT flourishes. Williams scores like he is talking down to an audience, every device is trotted out, and you don't feel like your watching a 'movie', but you feel like your watching a generic movie. And, above all it doesn't feel assured or un-clichéd enough for a Hitchcock movie. To be honest, maybe i'm being a curmudgeon, since I was as quick to dismiss the non-Bernard Herman music in Torn Curtain too!

Music aside (and my own prejudice!) Family Plot is excellent, and as I watched, I felt happier that Hitchcock has not ended his career trying to outdo himself, but told a good story very well; not too long, slightly old fashioned perhaps, but fun, likeable, human and occasionally touching.

(i'll clean up the writing of this entry at some point, bit of a late night mess!)

Silent Hill - Boring But In A Nice Way

Silent Hill (Christophe Gans CAN/FR 2006)
Film4 - 9pm 3rd December 2008

Silent Hill is a film based on a computer game that I have not played and know nothing about. I think it is testament to the games charm that I had little idea what was happening in the movie. What I think is interesting is that the game was heralded for its cinematic qualities. Yet the film doesn’t really work as a narrative. Where it is successful is in its pursuit of atmosphere. It’s a rare mainstream film that is most engaging when nothing is happening. The first half of the film – a chase scene and an underground scene aside – offers little more than a mother hopelessly searching for her daughter. I was numbed by the lack of narrative. Though at the same time it gave me the opportunity to enjoy the visuals with their treated lens effects. This is in contract to most modern films that I see, where the pace is frantic and the visuals are flimsy. In those cases I get frustrated because don’t care where the film is going and I don’t believe in the world it is set in.

In Silent Hill you don’t care for the characters a lot, but a ghost town is an inviting spectacle. I think the best example of the treated-ness is the blue fog that is present. I swear it must have been used to hide pop-up in the game. Yet it is calming and ever-so slightly threatening. It was also so unusual to feel swept away in a film that is a money making exercise. There was another moment that I really liked, one that softened me up as oppose to giving up on the film. It was the first instance of the air raid siren. I really didn’t know what to think when it happened, and the moment didn’t feel silly or pointless. Yeah, the actual reason is a lot less compelling, but I shouldn't condemn it for being effective occasionally.

Since I don’t play many computer games the only reference point I can think of is Valve’s Half-Life 2 (2004). In that game we are afforded lulls between the fights and gun battles. H-L 2 also has a level of detail (that I’m sure is replicated in most games these days) that is superficially engaging in Silent Hill the film, but was probably a strong part of the game. I suppose Silent Hill is pretty much a computer game movie And nothing more, but at least it is a game that could have made of a good movie experience.

Mark Kermode’s prepared attack for all computer game adaptations is that watching one is like watching someone else play it. I think that is a fair criticism of the spate of First-Person-Shooters and Beat-‘em-Up games. But the question I wonder is whether the plethora of popular role playing games (like World of Warcraft for instance) will produce games more suited to the cinema. Whatever the results the likelihood is that they will feel like retreads of better films rather than distinct entities.

Silent Hill began originally enough ploughing fertile ground of a ghost story, but dived into the eighties horror movie cycle with a belly-flop in an ungraceful Hellraiser (1987)-like climax. Really! Even if it was in the game there is no need for that!

Assault On Precinct 13 (2005)

Assault on Precinct 13 (Jean-Francois Richet US/FR 2005)
Ethan Hawke, Lawrence Fishburne, Gabriel Byrne
Channel 4 – 10pm 30th November 2008

One approaches Jean-Francois Richet’s remake of John Carpenter’s cult movie with some trepidation. The original marks the beginning of Carpenter’s hot-streak where he could do no wrong. Alternatively, the films he made up to and including Starman (1984) were interesting genre movies that mixed assured subtly with a cold commercial exploitation drive. Given that all of Carpenter’s best films are essentially variations on the same theme and situations it is especially noteworthy that Assault on Precinct 13 was his first film to mix a dystopian future with an action/western storyline. In short, I love Carpenter’s film and it is a definitely one of his best films. I will discuss the new film in reference to the original later.


Once more, I come to Richet’s remake with some apprehension. Perhaps this is unjustified, since Carpenter made no bones that his original is an update of John Ford’s Rio Bravo. Of all Carpenter’s it is probably the one that could be directed by anybody with them mucking it up too much. To be fair to Richet, He has managed to turn in an exciting and twisty action movie. Yet in its debit he has also managed to strip the film of its wickedly bleak appeal by padding the narrative out with too many scenarios.

1) Plot Introduction

This 2005 remake begins eight months before the siege where Sgt. Jake Roenick (Ethan Hawke) is involved in an undercover police operation. Due to some unforeseen problems it all goes wrong and his two colleagues are killed. Cut eight months later and Jake is working at the titular Precinct 13 on New Years Eve scarfing down alcohol and pills to get him over his trauma of the failed operation. Meanwhile, criminal cop-killer Marion Bishop (Laurence Fishburne) has just been captured after a gun battle. Due to the seasonal holiday he is being incarcerated for two days and then will be taken to court. The season brings bad weather in the form of a blizzard. Instead Bishop and a trio of low-level criminals - Ana, Beck and Smiley - are driven to Jake’s door to spend the night as oppose to continuing to a newer precinct. However, Precinct 13 is set to close at midnight, and already has a skeleton staff that consists of another much older cop (Brian Dennehy), and a Secretary (Iris Ferry). Also there is Jake’s Psychologist Dr. Alex Sabian (Maria Bello) who is similarly stranded because of the bad weather. The season has produced an inconvenience for the cast, all of which would all rather be somewhere else. It is at this point that an unknown force outside the precinct arrives and is intent on getting to Bishop.

2) What Richet’s Film Does

Above is pretty much the storyline of the first half an hour of the film. Apart from Carpenter’s film, the set up and the action that takes place recall the first two Die Hard films and even the sub-genre of action-stroke-disaster narratives that occur in films like Hard Rain (1997). The meat of the film – in fact any film with a high concept such as a building that bad guys what to get into – is the actual action and tension of characters who are literally being active or inactive as the case may be. If done well, a film can string out a siege or a hostage drama for well over the ninety-minute mark, I would cite Die Hard (1988) or perhaps Speed (1995) as good modern examples. All a film like Die Hard really is is an interchange between the establishment being weak and the outlaws being powerful. Bruce Willis’ John McClane is a jerk with a mouth on him, but we love him because he gets into awful and painful scrapes yet manages to keep his sense of humour intact. Die Hard is at times almost a laggy film but it rides on its black humour. Whether or not the film intends to be political appears to be of little concern to the filmmakers. Since it’s politics go about as far as saying that a punch in the face can solve most problems. As is the case where Holly McClane whacks an exploitative journalist for interviewing her children.

In place of a lead like John McClane Assault On Precinct 13 has Jake. A sympathetic character who has been weakened by the experience of the failed undercover operation. His confidence is pressed in the instance where Dr. Sabian argues he is hiding behind a wound on his leg so as not to face up to his fear of responsibility. The filmmakers have gone to great pains to develop Jake as a character. He is also the character that others look to before and after the crisis hits. For example, he refuses to close up early at the Secretary’s request even though the precinct is to close at midnight. Once the violence commences it is Jake that takes a stand in spite of the bad odds and convinces the others to protect the criminals from the overwhelming force. Jake is perhaps a more developed character than McClane, but that doesn’t make him a more interesting one. Essentially he is a well-worn police character and is not dissimilar from disenfranchised cops in numerous movies; Roy Scheider’s Martin Brody from Jaws (1975) springs to mind. Jake is the most developed character and is the focus of the film yet he ultimately weakens it because of his generic characteristics.

While Jake may be over-characterised to the point of cliché, Bishop is the exact opposite. His character is introduced as mysterious and calculating, and after 100-odd minutes we have learnt only a few scrapes of additional information. Bishops mythic and revered criminal gangboss probably looked a perfect fit on paper for Fishburne. He was obviously hired off the back of his portrayal of Morpheus in The Matrix films. And yet, his Morpheus persona smoothers any potential that the character had. We don’t need to know anything about him since he’s a bad-ass, a well-read, stylish and silent mastermind. All he’s expected to do is fulfil that remit, which he does admirably. Although in his credit, Bishop is afforded a very Carpenter-esque macho raison d’être. He exclaims the he will fight for his self-preservation and for nothing more and is nobody’s ally. This is not unlike Ice Cube’s memorably lunkheaded promise to come back “when the tide is high” inGhost of Mars (2001). In essence we are meant to admire Bishop from a distance. He is not characterised as being good or bad but cynical. That he comes out of the film in the middle of the spectrum of good and bad is testament to the brutality of the corrupt police.

The characterisation of Bishop is for the most part replicated in that of the rest of the cast. The two female characters are basically victims. (I may well put down my thoughts about The Posiden Adventure (1973) in a later entry in reference to the female characters) The three other criminals are, like Bishop, not portrayed as either scum or particularly bad. They serve as ambiguous (should that be weak?) characters that challenge Jakes leadership and confidence. Can he really trust them with guns? Is it better to leave the defenceless to save his own skin? Of the three Beck (John Leguizamo) is the most interesting. He is in the midst of a comedown from a undisclosed drug. As such he jitters between sympathy and annoyance, selflessness and selfishness.

Aside from these characters the rest of the cast are made of up Police characters. Two are in the precinct and the rest are outside attacking it under the direction of Gabriel Byrne’s corrupt Captain. Whereas the original dealt with only the question of survival and the breaking down of the barriers between police officer and criminal – Richet’s adds another angle in the form of police corruption. The fear of betrayal in a tight-knit group produces a bleak environment. This is ground that was trodden in Carpenter’s films; this time The Thing (1982). Yet it isn’t unlike the scenario of The Night of the Living Dead (1968) – or even The Evil Dead (1982) – the former is almost a blueprint for paranoid siege films. The police corruption narrative push again recalls Die Hard 2 (1991). Richet’s film is undoubtedly more sophisticated than Renny Harlin’s fun but dumb sequel. Yet it ends up feeling more like an silly action take on L.A. Confidential (1997), than a smart genre movie. An action take with none of the detail, characterisation or political thrust. The police angle while admiral is little more than a bloodless excuse for a narrative thrust. Yet it is more damaging to compare the effectiveness of the political dimension when considered with Carpenter’s original, as I will discuss later.

What Richet’s film does achieve by utilising a political dimension is a lean towards questions of police brutality and racism in the forces. It would be very uncharitable to condemn the film when it channel’s a racist and cliquey police force narrative. Once thing that struck me when considering the film afterwards was the whiteness of the police compared to the four criminals who are black or Puerto-Rican. The racial bent - be it indirectly - gave the four criminals a more put-upon appearance. Ana, Beck and Smiley are minor criminals, all are characterised as likeable nuanced individuals who do their bit for their own preservation and show care for others safety. Could Richet be asking us to consider the racism and discrimination that is at work in American society that is documented in incidences such as Rodney Kings tragic murder and the poverty that is more likely to affect non-white Americans? Perhaps. These are questions that are not asked nor are they played out but they stand in direct contrast with Carpenter’s film which pitted a multi-racial criminal force against a precinct led by a black officer.

Despite this goodwill, my first reaction was not of Richet playing it smart but the he was providing a number of non-white victims to feel sorry about but ultimately not care for. For example, It is this lack of warmth that weakens Bishop as a character. Despite Jake’s trust and protection of him he remains a cynical outsider. The three other criminals all die, and despite their honourable stand to protect the precinct are each shown to be victims. They serve the narrative of Jake and develop from cynical criminals to weak characters that in the midst of a crisis fall first.

3) The Original film and the Stylistic Choices of the 2005 Remake

The long introduction to the film that I included served two purposes, 1) it introduced the film until the events of the premise, and 2) it exposed the fatal problem with the entire film and reason to remake a film that has such a descriptive title. Assault on Precinct 13 (2005) makes the decision to develop the characters and the enemies. Yet it dilutes the 1976 film’s primary pleasure, which is that of an efficient and tense film about a singular experience. The title of the film could almost be a newspaper headline, insomuch as it documents and summarises the film. It is also a great shorthand for telling a story.

The opening act of Carpenter’s film introduces many of the same elements but quicker and without the same amount of detail. Since we know what will happen in the second act, the first act is bedded in tension and expectation. It makes little difference who the attackers are, since we already know that they will attack. Carpenter’s enemies serve a distanced and fantastical quality that he replicated in straight horror films, such as Michael Myres in Halloween (1978) and the avenging sailors of The Fog (1979). Assault on Precinct 13 is like a horror film moonlighting as an action film. This horror meets action owes a debt to Romero’s Night of the Living Dead. But it serves two purposes. It makes the enemies more scary and the characters more relatable. The less we know about the enemy the more we relate to the characters in the precinct. It is this lack of detail that leaves room for characterisation. Richet’s film fills in the blanks at the expense of the tight plotting, above I have described how the new elements produce new avenues (political) of exploration but they further elevate the singular experience of Jake, while the other characters wallow in stereotypes and bit parts. Jake’s story is so emphasised that his companions fall away without much characterisation and this weakens an essential plank of all siege films. This is the idea of a team banding together against odds and the trials and fractures that occur. These elements are more then enough for an entire film while offering good parts for the actors. It was the extraordinary abuse and tension that the team shares that makes the cycle of films that began with The Birds (1963) and continues through Romero’s and Carpenter’s films so rewatchable and open to reinvention. As I will go on to describe below, the characters are squeezed of characterisation because the opposition are not aloof criminals or birds or zombies.

The shallow use of police corruption as an angle is another problem with the fleshing out of the enemy. Since the film suggests that the good will out, Jake’s dilemma is never about much more than his own psychological profile and overcoming his fear of responsibility. True, the corruption angle develops his clichéd weak cop but his devotion rarely allows for much doubt. A less charitable view of the police corruption element is that it is used as an attempt to set the film within the modern world to justify the events. It is to fuel the narrative and nothing more, yet it is not used with a lot of economy. And what does it really mean to a film with an exploitation title? Richets film appears to be superficially reaching for the 1970’s government paranoia genre; Films ranging from Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song (1971) to The Conversation (1974). Those films did not get bogged down in how much they used the political angle. It was enough to see the affect that corruption and deceit had on the leads. Whereas Richet’s film falls between explaining why the events are linked to police corruption without truly exploring them. The totality of the weak police development is seen in the exchange between Capt. Duvall (Byrne) and Bishop, where Bishop describes how Duvall was once a more straight officer and he was the ruthless one. That’s pretty much all we get for the reasons, one wonders if the audience is supposed to fill the blanks with narratives of other films. Yet, as I’ve described above, the films that primarily come to mind are not first-rate films like The Conversation of Baadasssss – or even Enemy of the State (1998) – but Die Hard 2 and Hard Rain. I believe that a developed enemy would have been better served in a plot about a money heist. That way the violence could speak for itself as in a film like For A Few Dollars More (1965).

The new film’s decision to flesh out the enemy at the expense of the atmosphere inside the precinct is not the only change that weakens the original film’s strength. The other most grossly valued element is the precinct itself. The film makers devalue the films title by setting a lot of the action outside the precinct. Jake’s failed undercover operation is one, but the time spent with Capt. Duvall in a car, and the arrest of Bishop are examples that precede the assault. These slow down the pacing but they do serve a purpose in that they build towards the action. However, it is the third act that does the most damage to the 1976 film’s plotting. In Carpenter’s film the heroes are backed into the basement of the cellar as the terror outside closes in. The few that remain gamble their lives on a plan that may prove worthless. They survive, but the commitment to the precinct and protection of the criminals is seen in the comradeship that has developed between the two main leads. Cut thirty years on and the solution is grander, but the dramatics are minor. Richet’s heroes escape the precinct only to be betrayed. The few that remain run to a nearby wood, in which the attackers follow. This ending is unsatisfactory for two reasons.

First, if one were not to consider the original the effect of the third act’s developments are pathetically generic. So many action films littered across sub-genres favour a final standoff that weakens the best set pieces that have gone before. Here is a brief list of films from off the top of my head that do just that, Speed, Spider-Man (2002), Face Off (1997), and Cellular (2004). Something that one always remembers of Speed is that it chucks its strongest element in the bin in favour of a protracted conclusion on a subway. This is really a case of a film not being able to get enough of itself. Spider-Man for example asks the most its hero when he is forced to choose between saving some children or his love interest. Once he has saved both, the hero and villain fight in a deserted building, where Spiderman is victorious. It’s a messy and unnecessary scene that gets in the way of the strength of the film’s concluding scene in the graveyard. Assault on Precinct 13 (2005) spirals out on a tangent yet all the tension of the siege is replaced for a chase. As if a gun battle in a wood was really a satisfactory conclusion to a film about a siege. It is as if the filmmakers are aching to get out of the building. A much better conclusion can be found in Hard Boiled (1992). There the ultimate villain confronts the heroes at the entrance of the besieged hospital and in front of all the police. John Woo elevates all that has gone before by loading the conclusion on top of all the stakes that have gone before. This provides a conclusion that is not ancillary to the main story.

Secondly, as mentioned before the 1976 film keeps its action within the walls of the precinct. Therefore the thrust of the violence is never redirected. The title of the film provides a tension that is an undercurrent in the first act. While the second and third acts fulfil the title’s promise, to the extent that the building is as much a central character in the story. In keeping the action in one place, the characters are emphasised as a team. Whereas the narrative in the 2005 film begins with Jake away from the precinct, so its actually fitting that the film is resolved away too.

4) Conclusions

There have been two main critical considerations running through this review. Those are considerations of the film on its own merits and the extent to which it compares to Carpenter’s original. It is important to not let the 1976 film dominate impressions of Richet’s film.

On its own terms it is an entertaining and impressive film. One that feels undoubtedly like the kind of film that follows a path laid by Hawke’s earlier film Training Day (2002); A cop film with a nasty edge that factored in the police force’s treatment of black communities. That film’s emphasis on the relationship between Denzel Washington and Hawke appears replicated in the characters of Jake and Bishop. Yet, since Bishop is never developed beyond his gravitas, Jake is left to dominate the film. This is at the expense of the team-element of the siege. Given the emphasis, it would likely have made a stronger film to strip it of the other characters entirely, and have the narrative be about Jake, Bishop and the police. As it is, we have an undeveloped dynamic between two generic characters, who together escape the precinct to fight in an unremarkable conclusion. The desire to move the characters out of the building is probably its primary failing. However, aside from the shallow plotting the action is well mounted, the violence suitably nasty – although not as disturbing or shocking as the original – and the introduction of paranoia to the ‘team’ is effective.

Richet’s movie is by no means bad, it fills 100 or so minutes successfully and one gets the sense that they got what they expected with the occasional twist and gruesome display of violence. Yet it pales in comparison to Carpenter’s because of its need to explain everything, and give context to the events. The expansion of characterisation before the siege dampens the tension and makes for a less streamlined move. Carpenter’s film is a delight because it has a singular pleasure. It tells its story quickly with pace, little dialogue, exposition and explanation. We empathise with the characters directly because we don’t know what’s going on beyond the odd reference to a dead girl and gang pride. Richet’s film is a laggy film that never really exploits its original and best idea. And yet, it is unfair to compare it directly to the original because it isn’t the same film and it shouldn’t be. While insubstantial, the police corruption storyline is a new avenue that drives the story. Richet successfully turns in a very modern and stylised take on a formula that is older than Ford’s Rio Bravo. However, ‘very modern’ cuts both ways. Yes it is new, but sadly it can’t help but appear generic. That is the killer blow of some of the films changes – such as those in the third act – the film never develops its changes enough to break free from excuses for ‘stuff to happen’. Yet it ties itself to the narrative of the original without exploiting its best elements.

(I love the bit where Dennis Hopper's head comes off)