36 Quai des Orfèvres

Daniel Auteuil and Gérard Depardieu exchange pleasantries.

Daniel Auteuil and Gerard Depardieu pay the bills in this stylish French police suspense movie. Their collective star power almost diverts from the fact that they’ve both eaten too much foie gras to play active, hard-edged policemen. There’s plenty of double-dealing and blurred moral boundaries, but the script sets up the dead bodies a little too obviously. Will there ever be a cop movie in which the officer who’s on the verge of retirement actually lives into his dotage? Or one in which the pretty wife of the hero doesn’t have a torrid time?

Even though this is pretty standard fare for these two stars, it’s still tighter and more dramatically interesting than similar Hollywood genre flicks. And given that 36 Quai des Orfèvres is the French equivalent of Scotland Yard, the filmmakers suggest that corruption and shady dealings are endemic even in the upper echelons of French law enforcement. It’s a smart movie, and delivers exactly the kind of thrills you expect. The pairing of Auteuil and Depardieu is clearly a French attempt to emulate the De Niro & Pacino pairing of Heat or Righteous Kill, and although I understand exactly why they cast it that way I think the movie would have been dramatically stronger with a pair of leaner, hungrier actors.

If you live in a world in which you have a choice between this and, say, Righteous Kill, go for the French movie, you won’t regret it.

Highlander

Was I half-asleep or was it never adequately explained why “There can only be one?”

Sean Connery in gibberish movie.

Highlander was a complete pile of nonsense, with a barely anglophone Belgian, Christopher Lambert, playing a Scotsman and Sean Connery playing a Spanish-Egyptian swordfighting dandy. Lots of latent sadomasochistic homosexuality and some utterly unreal lighting, including gutter-level strobe lights.

It was showing on ITV, so there were frequent advert breaks, but oddly there were no real adverts, just solicitations to watch other programmes on ITV. Has the credit crunch killed TV advertising?

Cinéma Utopia

The other night C and I made a thorough investigation of one of Bordeaux’s cultural gems. Cinéma Utopia in the Saint Pierre district, at the heart of the historic centre ville is a five screen arthouse cinema housed in a converted church. The screen we sat in was small but adequate and the area around and underneath the screen was painted to resemble an altar with candles to each side. This irreverence is played out elsewhere in the building too. Some of the original stained glass windows have been modified to include the Utopia’s logo.

Stained glass window, Cinema Utopia, Bordeaux.

For a dedicated cinephile, the Utopia is aptly named. The films are not preceded by commercials or trailers. You sit and wait, the lights go out, people fall silent and the movie starts, just like that. It’s refreshingly pure to experience cinema treated with the same respect as theatre. During the movie everyone stays totally silent. There is no popcorn munching, (you can’t buy popcorn at the Utopia) nobody answers their phone and nobody issues whispered pleas for explication to their friends. The film we saw was Sidney Lumet’s The Verdict, from 1982, an original print in fine shape. There was a little dirt around the beginning and end of each reel and a significant amount on the tail of the film, which is to be expected. The colours had faded a little, but Paul Newman’s eyes were still startlingly blue. At the end of the film the house lights stayed down until the very end of the credits so you either watch until the very end or bumble about like an idiot in the pitch black.

The Utopia has a café and it’s the real French deal. Like I wrote earlier, there is no popcorn. There is no candy, either. There is an abundance of coffee, and a decent selection of beer, wine and pastries. Some wholesome and tasty meals come out of the kitchen. There is free wi-fi, but the place isn’t crammed with people bathing in the blue light of their laptop screens. The café has a couple of terraces of tables on the square outside, and I think it must bring in more money than the cinema itself. A full-price ticket for the Utopia is €6, and an abonnement (subscription) of 10 admissions costs €45. The multiplexes in town charge around €7,50. In the month of September they showed 36 different films, from a wide selection of countries and from different eras. Right now you can see the prizewinners from Cannes alongside retrospectives of great movies from the archives. In the coming month the selection of classic Hollywood movies includes Siodmak’s The Killers, Kazan’s East of Eden and Hawks’ Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. There is even philosophical and political graffiti in the toilets. The Utopia really lives up to its name.

Paul Newman as Harry Galvin in the Verdict.

It was spookily coincidental that the film we watched that night was The Verdict, in which a lawyer, whose idealism and naivety have cost him a comfortable job and his self-respect, takes a medical malpractice case to court, though it would be easier to settle, in order to do the right thing. It’s a classic tale of the little guy versus the big man, and yet Paul Newman in the title role and the direction of Sidney Lumet are create an emotional gravity that is modest, thoughtful and compelling in a manner seldom seen on screen in recent years. I hate to come across all curmudgeonly and say “They don’t make them like that any more,” but they really don’t.

On the way back from the cinema C and I were admiring Paul Newman as both a great performer, a genuinely good and philanthropic guy, and a good example of an American liberal. There are more films playing at the Utopia that benefited from Newman’s involvement, including one that he directed. I’m planning to make the most of the opportunity to see them. Having seen some of his best work the night before made the announcement of his death a little sadder for us. Damn, he was good.

I Drink Your Milkshake

This weekend has been my first time off from jobs and movie stuff for about two, maybe three months. After ignoring most of the Superbowl, I took Courtney to see There Will Be Blood. Within the first minute she whispered in my ear “I really notice cinematography now.” At that moment I think my heart skipped a beat.

Shooting Bulletins blog now live

Screenshot of Shooting Bulletins blog.

This weekend Courtney and I launched the Shooting Bulletins blog. It’s where we’re keeping a record of our progress as we attempt to make a short movie that will prove my worthiness to be admitted to film school. Check it out if you’d like to see how we’re doing and to find out how you can help us do what we need to do!

We’ll be putting the third bulletin up some time today.

The Strangest Village in Britain

This is funny, sad, touching, hopeful and true. It’s about the village of Botton in Yorkshire. I’ve only got so far as the two blokes in the print shop, who have a Goon Show-esque repartee, and if it weren’t time for bed I’d watch it all the way through.

Update: I finished watching. It was mostly quite decent, but the lack of any serious analysis of exactly how the Botton model helps its patients lead meaningful lives in spite of the difficulties they face was troubling. It felt as if the makers of the programme either intended to present a freakshow and make it acceptable by making some nod towards serious analysis, or they wanted to make something serious but lacked the budget to get interviews with experts, or that the programme makers were fairly young and failed to recognise they needed more serious analysis to add weight to the project. I suspect it was a combination of the latter two.

The Journey Starts

This week it’s starting to get serious. I’ve received some useful feedback on my script, I’ve cast an actor, and Courtney’s realising the scale of the project we’re about to embark on. My short movie with the working title “Julie, Julie” is officially in pre-production. In the next week or so I’ll be starting a new website with a “donate” button so people can help fund the project, should they so desire.

Thanks to my script readers: your feedback has been very useful.

More Shooting

This weekend was another orgy of video shooting. First off, most of Friday was spent preparing to shoot, and then shooting a Critical Mass of zombies and pirates. More will become apparent when it’s edited.

Saturday and Sunday were spent on a levee in Sacramento shooting a barbaric pinata massacre for my friend Stephanie. I’m quite pleased with how the footage looked when we played it back in the evenings. There was a distinct Tarantino-esque cruelty to a couple of shots.

Rockumentary

Palmer asked me if I could help him with a documentary project he’s working on, so this Sunday we went to Sacramento to interview locally-based outsider musician Lenny G. Blat. Something about him reminds me of the Legendary Stardust Cowboy.

Palmer’s started editing already, and a couple of clips are up on YouTube.

When the camera’s off Lenny is surprisingly warm, and unpredictable. He sings almost constantly, as if he has a musical variant of tourette’s syndrome.

New video: Sustainability Fair 2007

Last week I finished editing a short documentary profiling the Sustainability Fair the Davis Food Co-op held back in July. I could spend ages tidying it up and making it perfect, but I don’t really have time.

If you’re interested in reading my self-criticism, after the jump are some of the bits I’d spend time fixing in an ideal world in which days last 48 hours, I work for eight hours a day and need to sleep for only seven.

Playing catch-up

Recently I’ve had ideas for posts, but I’ve either been at work, visiting family, or too tired to be bothered blogging.

I’m determined to make time to write, produce, shoot and edit a short before the year is out, so I’m slotting in screenwriting time when I can. I’m also helping a couple of friends out with shorts, and still trying to finish off editing another couple of projects – one’s work related, the other is not.

What else? I snagged myself a copy of Lindsay Anderson’s If….. I enjoyed it, but would have taken even more from had I not been tired and corpulently well-fed the night I watched it. Court and I rented Truffaut’s Day for Night the other day, and both loved every second, which is rare, and we just watched Miyazaki’s Kiki’s Delivery Service, which was delightful. Now I’ve consumed two feelgood movies in a row, I feel my next cinematic entertainment should be thoroughly perverse.

It will please certain people to discover that Courtney’s been renting DVDs of the re-made Battlestar Galactica this week. I’ve been watching a few with her, and I’m actually really quite impressed. There’s a sense of restraint in the action sequences and with only one real exception, the tension and plotting is good. It also gives a lead role to the guy who played the origami-making cop in Blade Runner.

Quick Tip

Avoid Tom Tykwer’s movie The Princess and the Warrior. It would be a good movie if Tykwer had realised he’d written a black comedy. Sadly for us, he didn’t, and all two and a half hours is played with a schmaltzy, po-faced earnestness which makes it utterly, utterly laughable.

Particularly outstanding among a host of contemptible moments is the bath time electrocution. This is a set-piece I’d been planning to use in my imaginary remake of Parting Shots. I’ve not seen Parting Shots, and nor do I intend to; it’s directed by Michael Winner and it stars Chris Rea, the singer. I want to take just the concept and make a bad-taste murderous revenge comedy, because that’s the kind of movie in which you dispose of characters by electrocuting them in the bathtub with a toaster on a 30ft cable.

In its defence, The Princess and the Warrior is beautifully shot and tidily edited. Contrary to the old adage, it is possible to polish a turd.

Le Samouraï

Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samouraï has to be one of the coolest movies ever made. Just the production details offer a foretaste of its coolness: anything made in France in 1967 starring Alain Delon should at least pique a movie buff’s interest. Le Samouraï blends 40’s American gangster movie aesthetics, 60’s French pop culture and a dash of Samurai mystique.

Ian Richardson, RIP.

I’m sad to hear of the passing of Ian Richardson, an actor with one of the greatest voices I’ve ever heard, and coldly hypnotic eyes. I never saw him on the stage, but his performances for film and TV were always mesmerising. Obviously he’ll be well remembered for House of Cards and To Play the King but for me his roles in movies such as Brazil and Dark City are just as important.

Playing Catch-up

Looks like I’ve not posted in a while. Here’s a summary of the last sixty-six days.

Those who saw me and possibly the missus during December will know how much we tired ourselves out having fun and visiting what feels like everyone (but actually wasn’t) during the festive season.

Discovering that I’m a little part of history in a photo in the Globe museum (along with Eyelashjam and a small bunch of others) was a happy experience. Somewhere within me a small organ swelled with pride. Seeing M & K happily set-up in Brighton made both of us happy, and reunions back in Worcestershire and Buckinghamshire were as sweet as always.

We’ve been back in Davis for a month now, and I suppose we’re back in the swing of things. The tiny PS2 Rev Rehash gave us as a Saturnalia present has seen a lot of use, and led me to discover a very 21st century relationship dilemma which I’ll cover in a later post.

I taught my Cornish pastie and Chicken Tikka Masala course at the Co-op for a second time. No-one died. Even better, I’m working with my friend Ellis on a video project which will stay under wraps until it’s ready to be seen. I’m still procrastinating over writing the script for the short movie I hope to make with Jeff. It’ll happen soon; I feel it bubbling up through the mire of my consciousness. I’ve also had an idea for a non-narrative piece which explores reproduction and degeneration.

So far this year I’ve caught the following movies at the cinema:

  • The Queen
    Well-observed performances from Helen Mirren and Michael Sheen, and subtly critical of both the traditional British establishment and Blair’s courting of populist sentiment.
  • Pan’s Labyrinth
    Visually stunning, and a top performance from Sergi Lopez as a sadistic torturing fascist.
  • The Curse of the Golden Flower
    A grand statement about China’s current regime disguised as a lavish period romp; largely disappointing when you compare it to House of Flying Daggers and Hero, but look at all those extras – and all those jiggling busts!
  • Children of Men
    Felt like a hard punch in the guts; at one point I almost threw up with anxiety. It’s very impressive and I was slightly hungover.
  • Volver
    Quirky and darkly sweet, but not as kinky as I’d hoped. Everyone’s talking about Penelope Cruz and she is good, but Carmen Maura’s better.

I’m going to make an effort to catch Notes on a Scandal, Little Children and a nice little American social realist pic (don’t see many of those) called Flannel Pajamas. The Last King of Scotland starts at my work in the next couple of weeks, which makes it easy for me to see and I’m hoping we can get Paul Verhoeven’s Zwartboek (Black Book) mostly because it’s guaranteed to be up-front steamy and sexual, and there has been precious little sex on American cinema screens since the end of the Clinton era.

February 18th is the first day of the Chinese year of the Boar. Mmm. Pork. I’m looking forward to it already.

Christ!

Yesterday was my mainstream movie day. I caught The Departed and The Prestige at my local evil five-plex. Both good movies, and The Prestige was particularly noteworthy for being a fantastic exploration of artifice and deception, a real puzzle of a movie where the structure of the movie is the same as the structure of its subject – magic tricks.

Of course, we were bombarded with trailers. When I’m putting together the programme at the Varsity I normally attach a maximum of four trailers. Any more than that and I feel like I’m taxing the audience’s patience. At the evil five-plex you get twenty minutes of advertising for products and TV programmes and then six or seven (I lost count) trailers for coming features. Each one is about two and a half minutes. Towards the end of the reel or trailers, just as Jeff and I were asking each other if we were ever going to see the movie, an extended version of this played. "One family. One journey. One child who would change the world… forever." It looks like it will play well to the churches by the interstate in most of middle America. It looks fairly well shot in a Milk Tray advert style.

However, just in case Americans are in danger of forgetting what Christmas is all about, here’s another movie to remind them, Christmas at Maxwell’s, "powerful story of Christian happenings" complete with a small boy with wiggly eyebrows and crackling dialogue.

Look at this neat album! All of the pages are blank.

And here’s a movie about the people who are most likely to watch the previous two movies, Jesus Camp. I feel I should preface this trailer with a warning. It’s almost enough to put you off your dinner.

80’s Flashback

Morrissey

For no particular reason, other than I’m in the mood and some of this stuff is classic, here are a bunch of songs (with videos) from early eighties Britain which prove the first seven years of my life weren’t all bad make-up, pixie boots and synthesizers (not that there’s anything wrong with a good Moog or an ARP).

1: The Clash – Rock the Casbah
To break everyone in nice and gently and to set the tone.

La Science des Rêves

Gael Garcia Bernal as Stephane inspects his woollen horse in The Science of Sleep

It looks like we’re seriously pursuing The Science of Sleep to screen at the Varsity in late August. I love Michel Gondry’s work, so I’m really excited. Check out the trailer here.

It looks as if both a French and English-language version were shot, which is unusual, but not unprecedented. I seem to remember a lame Gerard Depardieu comedy Mon Père ce Héros / My Father the Hero being shot in two different languages. Or maybe it was dubbed and my memory is inventing things.

The Varsity Story on DVD

I feel as if I was a little rushed trying to get this together two weeks after the grand opening, especially with all the hours I’ve been putting in at the coffee shop and the cinema, but on Saturday 22nd April DVDs of The Varsity Story went on sale. For $10 you get the DVD, complete with bonus materials in an attractive plastic case. That’s about five quid in real money.

In the process I’ve discovered that Apple’s iDVD program is a real pain in the arse to use if you want to do your own design rather than using the default templates. If in the future I want to produce my own DVDs, I will need serious pro-level DVD authoring software, which isn’t cheap. I also learnt that Kinko’s doesn’t configure its colour laser printers properly, and that if you want a good quality print it pays to hook your own laptop up to their printers rather than using the shoddy worn-out Dell computers they provide.

I’m fairly happy with the results. To my eye it’s not perfect, but as far as I’m concerned the project is finished.

Front cover of The Varsity Story

Back cover of The Varsity Story

It’s on sale in Davis, both at the Varsity and the Hattie Weber museum.