Tuesday, 30 November 2021

Guns Akimbo


GUNS AKIMBO

Writer & Director - Jason Howden

2019, Germany-New Zealand-United Kingdom

Stars – Daniel Radcliffe, Samara Weaving, Ned Dennehy

 

It starts with a nihilistic introduction by villain Riktor (Ned Dennehy) that sounds like it’s criticising audiences always wanting violent entertainment and all else is a kind of virtue signalling. Indeed, it’s protagonist is a vegetarian pacifist, but he’ll soon see the shortcomings of his better aspirations when his hands are fixed with guns – turned into literal handguns – and put into a kill-or-kill-be-killed online game. But in fact, the film is totally attuned to Riktor’s credo. It’s “mindless fun” and so will sneer off any criticism. The other retort seems to be Samera Sarah strolling in and shooting people and places up to ska (is the fact that she seems to carry an invisible arsenal with her at all times a gaming gag?).

 

And then almost immediately after the villain’s introductory narration, we get the protagonist voiceover explaining that this was the day that changed everything, so that’s already two mayor strikes down for me and we’re not even five minutes in. There is a surfeit of bad writing. But, you see, Jason Howden’s previous film ‘Deathgasm’ wasn’t only braindead fun: it was rude and crude, scatalogical and frequently very funny, but simultaneously skewering and celebrating its Heavy Metal culture. Its juvenile nature was totally appropriate to its protagonist and doctrine. ‘Guns Akimbo’ doesn’t pull off or justify the same trick, although it tries to have its cake and eat it in other ways too: taking a swipe at cowardly “keyboard warriors” (“Think you’re man enough?!”) but also making them the eventual kickass hero.

 

Daniel Radcliffe has become a fairly reliable brand to follow, for he seems inclined to more intriguing projects and always visibly committed, however they turn out; and as Miles he certainly grounds ‘Gun Akimbo’ with a nerdy clumsiness and relatability (although those unaware of his wider catalogue might just see no further than Harry Potter Swears!). But we are meant to be cheering on an online troll here. Ned Dennehy is tattooed and villainous, but there’s almost the sense that he’s not fully into it, that there are moments where his innate actor almost surfaces (anyway, he’ll never be as repugnant and as scary to me as he was as Paudi in ‘Calm With Horses’).


 

Samara Sarah has doesn’t have to do anything more than walk in an shoot shit up to another blast of trendy song, a horny boy's vision of a bad girl. Oh, she's damaged too!! It's almost unintentionally funny when the story tries to grant her some earnest humanity and backstory (she has PTSD with fire! … but wait, wouldn’t that make her a less effective killing machine in this context? How the hell did she survive which such a weakness?). But it’s all pose and no trousers. It’s of the attention-deficit school of directing, where you’re never 10 seconds away from a camera tilt, superfluous jump-cut or song. It’s also greatly inspired by gaming culture and excessive fight scenes, but it has none of the style of ‘Hardcore Henry’ (which was equally braindead but audacious and convinced me more) or even the ability to pace things out or make you feel the excess like ‘John Wick’. For me, it’s Miles’ encounter with an alley homeless guy that is the funniest and most memorable encounter, where Rhys Darby as said hobo doesn’t feel chained and restrained by a perfunctory and often lazy script (let’s note the realism of a gunshot’s volume first thing and then forget about it from thereon; we own the police, but we only really see one crooked cop).

 

From the start, ‘Gun Akimbo’ feels like someone trying to ape the better action films he loves, but not nailing it – edgy lawless premise; still frames to name characters; cartoon palette and ultraviolence; random camera tricks and effects that mean nothing; and lots of obvious songs. Lots. Because it desperately grabs the songs, hoping for cool. But in the end, if you get anything from this may depend upon whether you accept a hammer fight played out MC Hammer as funny or edgy. Too confused to be genuine satire.

Saturday, 27 November 2021

Dune - notes on Frank Herbert's novel and Denis Villeneuve's adaptation

 


Dune

Frank Herbert, 1965

 

Fortuitously, Villeneuve’s first part of adapting Frank Herbert’s ‘Dune’ finishes just at the point I had read up to in the book at that time (halfway). The novel has sat in my “to read” pile since I was a teenager smitten with science-fiction, and I have no idea why it has taken a lifetime to get around to reading it. Perhaps I was intimidated by its reputation as “difficult” and/or “dense”? Well, it is dense and uncompromising and the world-building is exemplary, the kind I already knew from Jack Vance; although Vance feels pulpier and Herbert more serious in intent. World building is the genre’s chief pleasure and super-power. It’s enthralling and its place as One Of The Best and Highly Influential is obvious and well earned. It is full to bursting with detail, characters, culture and political intrigue and themes without losing focus or reader.

            

Its themes are the grandest: the intersecting of politics and religion and economics, cultures and war and guilds and totalitarianisms, of mesiahs and their followers, etc. It is full of snippets of wisdom dispensed in fake memoirs and political and religions tomes. It is full of the mechanics of politics and schemes that often feel like the Machievelli’s ‘The Prince’, or Sun Tzu’s ‘The Art of War’. For example: How you pay for military might? Make prison planets. And peppered with existential wisdom such as, “How often it is that the angry man rages denial of what his inner self is telling him.” Or, “the real universe is always one step beyond logic.” But the observations are full of intelligence rather than the platitudes that beset religious enlightenments.

 

‘Dune’ is heavily steeped in Middle Eastern culture – the precious spice = oil, for example – and has much commentary on colonialism and exploitation of resources. Yet whilst sympathetic and respectful of the Fremen natives, it’s a royal outsider that rallies and guides them. The gender politics are slippery too: women are concubines and witches, but they also seem to hold formidable behind-the-curtain power and connivance – they are certainly equal matches for the men, even in combat. The Bene Gesserit, for example, are a formidable sisterhood of female plotting and power committed to a breeding programme meant to result in the Kwisatz Haderach, a calculated Chosen One. Indeed, that they are apparently  "influenced by the tales of Maria Sabina and the sacred mushroom cults of Mexico" (says Wiki) shows the rich variety of inspiration that Herbert used. ‘Dune’ touches on too many bases, surely, to be accused of just one. It’s jammed packed full of weighty ideas and observations.


 

The guiding point is the apparent “Chosen One” status of Paul Atreides, the fifteen-year-old heir to the House of Atreides, trained in arcane ways by his mother and given to visions and reactions from others that he is Muab D’ib, a religious coming. ‘Dune’ certainly wasn’t the first, but one can see its popularity and influence as a seminal Chosen One narrative, even if others overlook its questioning intent. Paul himself is initially reluctant and disbelieving, although events soon bring out seemingly preternatural abilities. The Chosen One status drives him directly in conflict with his mother: he resents her for her part in putting him in that position, the Bene Gesseret breeding programme. By the finale of the novel in which Paul is given the chance to face down and outwit all his enemies and rivals, he is giddy with his omnipotence, even if the last melee is a close call highlighting his mortality. Yet this is tinged with Paul’s cynicism and self-awareness of his status as myth generator that defines his character. And as the fulcrum to several Chosen One legends, this self-awareness and cynicism culminates with his alternating whichever he needs to best his rivals (Paul Atreides, Muad’Dib, Kwisatz Haderach). Herbert may have been influenced by Arthurian mythology, but ‘Dune’ is not fascinated with Romantic Heroism of infallible protagonists. For Herbert, "Dune was aimed at this whole idea of the infallible leader because my view of history says that mistakes made by a leader (or made in a leader's name) are amplified by the numbers who follow without question.”*

 

It's a grand achievement, the mixture of hard and soft science-fiction, of convincing ecological and political realities mixed with futuristic fantasy consistently compelling and intelligent.



 

 

Dune

Director - Denis Villeneuve

Writers - Jon Spaihts (screenplay by), Denis Villeneuve (screenplay by), Eric Roth (screenplay by)

Stars - Timothée Chalamet, Rebecca Ferguson, Zendaya

 

And a serious tone, somewhat humourless, is what Villeneuve brings, which seems to me thoroughly in keeping with the novel. This is in inevitable comparison with David Lynch’s madcap adaptation. As Mark Kermode notes, in Lynch’s version there is always a distraction, so you are never bored even as it is unravelling before your very consideration. It’s somewhat a highly enjoyable, compelling misfire where the art design and costumes and effects amaze even as the narrative flounders in seeking purchase. There’s a lot of amusement to watch it gleefully pummel onwards, almost-but-not so-bad-it’s- good. Arguably, the few notes of humour tried for in Villeneuve’s ‘Dune’ stick out like a sore thumb, but they are fleeting moments – and seemingly all deceptively crammed in the trailer, which is edited like a Marvel Universe teaser (Action! Quips!).

 

What I found satisfying in Villenueve’s‘Blade Runner 2049’ was the subversion of the “I’m The Chosen One” trope. That’s the very foundation of ‘Dune’,** a primary text for this trope indeed, but I heard a criticism on the Kermode & Mayo film show where someone found all the foreboding and premonitions tiresome, but that is at the crux of the narrative, for it’s all about Paul Atreides being foretold as M’uad Dib. But he is reluctant, not happy at being manipulated into this prophecy; he’s conscientious and he is angry at his mother’s apparent manipulations at making him The Chosen One.

 

One other major criticism is that he is a White Saviour, but the character of Paul is a little more complex than that, and certainly Herbert’s vision is more informed. ‘Dune’ is about colonialism, all the political power play and wrongful disregard of the natives for the sake of plundering the resources. Khaldoun Khelil*** is enlightening on the problems of representation in Villenueve’s adaptation, and certainly in a post-MCU casting world, the casting could/should have been cannier – and surely Iannucci’s ‘The Life and Times of David Copperfield’ showed up the shallowness and inadequacies of the mentality of general casting. Indeed, changing the character Dr Liet Kynes to a black woman (Sharon Duncan-Brewster) hints at greater diversity already being an option.

 

In terms of language, it eloquent in the manner we may associate with canonical classics, but unlike Lynch’s ‘Dune’ it’s not near-impenetrable. There’s long exposition narration to begin with, the kind that always raises puts me dubious, but luckily that is just a stumbling block to the story proper. The secret sign language between Jessica and Paul is a good visual innovation to convey the Bene Gesserit training that they share, which is all embodied in the novel’s prose. Similarly, it does away with voiceovers to replicate the novel’s articulation of thoughts, the kind of voiceover that Lynch used (which I actually liked, in retrospect).

 


Any fan of B I G spaceships will be in Heaven here as they rise from lakes, block out most of the screen as characters disembark, or even the ‘thopters resembling dragonflies. It’s a film with scope and scale with plenty of faultless CGI. There is of course wonderful set design, from the greenery of Caladan (a sequence more expansive than in the novel) to the spacious chambers, endless sand banks and tunnels of Arrakis. It’s perhaps not as shocking/suprising as that of Lynch’s version, but it perhaps feels more organic, more realistic. Surely many will feel like Jonathan Romney: 

 

 “Nowhere near as enjoyable as Villeneuve’s inspired Blade Runner 2049, Dune is an achievement for sure, but watching it is rather like having huge marble monoliths dropped on you for two and a half hours, to the resounding clang of a Hans Zimmer score.”

 

Timothée Chalamet is, of course, too old to match the fifteen-year-old Paul Atreides of the book, but there is a precociousness he exudes, a boyish maturity if you will that suits the character. Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica is surely more weepy than in the book, but like the rest of the star-studded cast, she knows how to play this kind of high theatre. Only Zendaya comes across as an ill-fit, coming too obviously from the American school of feisty female acting (but this may be unfair in the long-run).  

 

Lynch’s version is more fun, but Villeneuve wants to get close to the novel’s sombre tone, and this he does. And perhaps those who enjoy Lynch’s camp appeal may not enjoy Villeneuve’s sincerity and vice versa. And of course it’s twice the reward if you go for both, and there are plenty of us. Villeneuve’s style is of a restrained, underplayed tendency, not typical of the blockbuster style, more an approach associated with indie. So, whereas there is all the spectacle you could want, the dramatic conveyance will leave many cold (certainly, many didn’t engage with ‘Blade Runner 2049’s layers, thinking it lacked for story). And anyway, ‘Dune’ is not a warm story, but a tale of calculation and survival in an objective and manipulated design. There’s something battered about these characters rather than adventure action archetypes.

 

I came away from Villeneuve’s ‘Dune’ with a sensation that I had been wowed, and like his ‘Blade Runner’, that it would be on a second watch that I would truly and fully engage. And of course, this is only half the story.


 

·       *  Herbert, Frank (1985). "Introduction". Eye. ISBN 0-425-08398-5.

·     ** So to speak. One comment came about ‘Dune’ was that it was his response to Isaac Asimov’s ‘Foundation’ series.

· *** I owe thanks for this link to Derek Anthony Williams https://www.facebook.com/theneofuturist

Tuesday, 23 November 2021

Mogul Mowgli



Mogul Mowgli

 

Director - Bassam Tariq

Writers - Riz Ahmed & Bassam Tariq

Stars - Riz Ahmed, Anjana Vasan, Aiysha Hart

2020, UK-USA

 

Bassam Tariq’s debut – about a rap artist on the verge of some success when he’s stricken by a crippling illness – juggles neo-realisms with dreamy surrealist interludes to avoid being totally kitchen sink.

 


Tariq And Ahmed’s greatest achievement is in portraying how ordinary lives are steeped in conflict of family, culture, expression, generation and of the self. Even down to a rap battle where the conflict is between Pakistani and Black experience (aside from dropping to “your mum/dad” insults). The picture it paints of familiar bonds and the lived experience of this particular generation and culture feels authentic. Every scene is infused with the struggle for identity, chaffing against the strictures and expectations of class, gender, culture, creed, all that. We are constantly told to Live The Dream and Be Yourself and The World Is Yours because advertising has found that’s the way to make a lot of money, but reality has a way of showing that to be the con job it is. Zed wants to say something about this, about his community, but sometimes you get ill and it doesn’t happen.

 

Characters are gruff rather than sentimental in a rough-and-tumble way that is perhaps a feature of class. Love is expressed messily but sincerely just by loyalty and being there. And Zed’s talent is real, and ultimately his plight and struggle for relevance and dignity are moving (the phone call to an ex and the final bathroom scenes are heart-breaking). If the film sometimes feels messy and confused about what it’s doing, that’s thoroughly in line with Zed’s mindset. It is about identity, after all.


 

‘Mogul Mowgli’ is also a film where the bathroom is the regular theatre of humiliation, overcoming of odds and family battles and bonding: these are the arguably the best scenes. A character study that takes it time building a heady and relatable emotional charge. Riz Ahmed’s performance of an artist’s sophistication existing beneath the blunt edges and demands of his character, culture and ambition, trying to be profound and truthful, is exceptional. He makes Zed’s frustration with everything a tangible, hugely relatable thing. And any young angry artist can knows his spikey passion, surely. The rap artform may not be to your taste, but rarely has there been such a down-to-earth portrayal of being a working class artist and never hitting the mark you’ve been so impassioned for. Life gets in the way.


Wednesday, 10 November 2021

Last Night in Soho


 Last Night in Soho

Director – Edgar Wright

Writers – Edgar Wright (story by) & Krysty Wilson-Cairns (screenplay by)

2021, UK

Stars – Thomasin McKenzie, Anya Taylor-Joy, Matt Smith


Starting in typical Wright music video style, ‘Last Night in Soho’ plunges headfirst into the Sixties vibe and never lets up. There will be a shedload of Swinging Sixties hits, with the obviousness and delights of The Searcher’s ‘Don’t Throw Your Love Away’ and Sandie Shaw’s ‘Puppet on a String’ (not even trying to be subtext) not the least; the film is giddy with them, and if you are suckered in immediately by the vertiginous melodramas of Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich’s eponymous track, or ‘Downtown’, then that’s sure to set the film’s place in your affections.  Indeed, it takes a moment to realise that this is set in the modern world because our protagonist Eloise (Thomasin McKenzie) is obsessed with the Swinging Sixties (it was the I don’t think Wimpy’s exist anymore line that clued me in). There’s even Rita Tushingham present and correct.

It’s a fine piece of entertainment due to style, even if I suspect its full-blown Sixties homage masks the fact that it’s longer than its horror content warrants. There’s lot of razzle-dazzle here, a lot of fun if you frequent London and find yourself trying to recognise side streets – but. 

From the start it’s an obvious confection, almost cartoonish in its broad strokes and veneer with giallo’s passing glance at realism. No matter how effectively Thomasin Mackenzie emotes for sympathy and Ana Taylor-Joy vamps, and Matt Smith delights with his groove onto the dancefloor, there’s no escaping the dents of bad writing. Don’t expect a realistic portrayal of fashion school life, or romance, for example. Wannabe love interest Michael Ajao’s John has no other character but to fawn after Eloise (Mackenzie), even when dangerous hysteria and assault enter the equation. Diana Rigg, in her final role, and Terence Stamp give poise and gravitas while the youngsters are giving all the flare.

It's proven divisive with audiences, leaving some giddy with joyous horror delights and others totally unimpressed, even hateful. I feel I want to abstain: while it was in full flow, I was curious and admittedly entertained, and surely seeing it on the big screen with a loaded amount of goodwill made all the difference, yet I never felt fully swallowed up. Almost… I find the crucial flaws in retrospective consideration undeniable, and shrugging ensues. Wright does a lot right – the mirror play; the soundtrack; the atmosphere – so there are a lot of surface pleasures. It’s joyful in the manner of musicals, which is emblematic of Eloise’s naïve worldview; but this may conflict with the viewer’s taste in horror, and the horror is standard (I did start to wonder how it earned its 18 rating), despite some nice enough twists (not that you wouldn’t anticipate… and rather there’s satisfaction in retroactively realising how the twists have been set up). 

So, if a joyful cartoon of a giallo horror is something to win you over, where illogic and dodgy dialogue abound; if you don’t mind the occasional plot hole (not convinced a fatal car accident on that side street; an unaddressed assault; John’s ever-dwindling character), then the style and homage might hit your buttons.