At this point in George Miller’s eclectic career, the idea of a film revolving around a woman swapping tales with an oversized, elemental spirit over cups of tea is pretty standard. The trailer’s proud announcement that the film derives from Miller’s ‘mad genius’ should be a subtle hint. Bear in mind this is the man who, before his most recent, revered Mad Max: Fury Road, directed tales about a talking penguin trying to find his place in his pack through interpretative dance (Happy Feet) and a talking pig attempting to make its way through the urban landscape, where he finds a bubble gum-blowing monkey, a bunch of gangster dogs, singing mice, a kitten with stomach problems and a fish doing a low-brow Dustin Hoffman impression from Midnight Cowboy(Babe: Pig in the City). These are just a few things I gleaned from the trailer; I can’t claim to have seen this piggy masterpiece yet.
Continue reading “Review: Three Thousand Years of Longing”Minimalist Moments: 12 Monkeys
A pair of eyes, wide, enraptured and shocked, stare at an unknown scene. A gunshot is heard. A rapid beeping sound plays, and a woman’s impassioned scream breaks through the soundscape. We cut to the slow-motion images of a man framed from the back as he is shot down amidst a crowd of terrified citizens. The beeping sound fades away. A voice is heard over the airport monitor, before an emotive violin plays as the woman comes into the viewer’s sight. As the man crashes to the floor, the camera finally reveals that these eyes belong to a young boy. The dying man’s hand reaches up to touch the woman’s face, and she takes his wrist with both hands. We finally cut back to the upset child, panning in on his face. The monitor voice blends into a number as the image transitions to Bruce Willis’ prisoner, whose name we don’t yet know.
Continue reading “Minimalist Moments: 12 Monkeys”The Emoji Movie
Below is a commentary on this…film. Yeah, I knew it was going to honk going into it, but good lord did it honk.
Continue reading “The Emoji Movie”Minimalist Moments: The Bourne Trilogy
It begins in water. It ends in water. Doug Liman and Paul Greengrass perfectly bookend the journey of their amnesiac hero with symbolic imagery, but the three films create a structure of their own through the repeated use of Moby’s now-iconic song ‘Extreme Ways’. The electronica artist was already known for lending his tunes to the dramatic endings of Scream and Heat; the latter film is given a particularly poetic ending through the use of Moby’s ‘God Moving Over the Face of the Waters’, and that’s one I’ll discuss in a later post. But the repeated use of ‘Extreme Ways’ at the end of each film begins to cultivate a distinct gravitas, similar to the ‘dah dah dah’ sound at the end of Bond films. All you need to hear are those first sounds (writer Adrian Hon describes these distinctive noises as ‘Wree! Wree!’, but you’re welcome to interpret them in whatever onomatopoeic form you see – or rather, hear – fit), and you know the protagonist is in the clear.
Continue reading “Minimalist Moments: The Bourne Trilogy”Minimalist Moments: Parking Pataweyo (Harry and Paul)
You can run. You can hide. You can justifiably explain your situation as he prepares to ticket you. But at the end of the day, no-one gets past Parking Pataweyo. Initially, anyway.
Continue reading “Minimalist Moments: Parking Pataweyo (Harry and Paul)”