Writing

‘The man who moved the earth’

The Syncopy and Universal logo flash on the screen, disappearing as quickly as they arrive. No clear image is seen as a voice announces a changing world, urging an unseen figure to seize his chance. Sparks of light can be seen against a pitch-black background, but nothing else. A different, doom-laden voice chimes in alongside an ominous soundtrack as we see an assortment of objects arranged on a table, among them a hat and pipe. Descending, ticking clock figures appear one by one before we return to the sparks, which evolve into a fiery hellscape. We see the back of a figure as he faces a window, adjusting the hat we saw earlier on his head as the time figures decrease further. The fiery image appears again, dominating the screen, even more tumultuous than before. Finally, we see the figure of Cillian Murphy walking at the front of a crowd. The time figures are no longer there, replaced with the unsettling, laconic tagline ‘The World Forever Changes’, before finally cutting to the title screen alongside a voice announcing the significance of Cillian Murphy’s unspeaking figure.

Continue reading “Minimalist Moments: Oppenheimer Announcement Trailer”

The humble train has played a significant role throughout its cinematic career, whether it’s serving as an allegory for class conflict (Snowpiercer), a vehicle to commit covert genocide (Murder on the Orient Express) or a means of scaring the bejesus out of an audience not accustomed to the moving image during an early Lumiere brothers screening (Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat), where a train is shown making its way across the screen (the authenticity of that anecdote has been questioned, but it’s interesting, so I’m going to mention it anyway).

Continue reading “Review: Bullet Train”

It’s a hot summer in London. You can see the sights, get some grub, walk around. Perhaps even pick up and smell some flowers. Not if you’re dressed in a dalmatian costume though. Definitely not if you’re dressed in a dalmatian costume. If you do that, there’s a high chance you’ll be accosted by another individual dressed in a brown dog costume. And woe betide you if you continue to sniff said flower obliviously as he approaches in slow motion. At that point, it’ll be too late. He’ll have picked up the vase with the flowers already and smashed it on your bonce before making a quick getaway.

Continue reading “Minimalist Moments: Trigger Happy TV”

‘Airport’.

If you look at the promotional poster or the DVD release of You Were Never Really Here, one of the main quotes you’ll probably notice is from The Times, describing the work as ‘Taxi Driver for a new century’. While there’s some truth of similarities in the basic plot (a disturbed Vietnam veteran tries to save a girl from prostitution using increasingly violent means), Lynne Ramsay’s work provides a drastically different aesthetic approach in terms of editing, aesthetic and particularly characterisation. Our introduction to the monolithic Joe (Juaquin Phoenix) in the film’s first scenes is an effective example; no grand monologue about the state of the city is mentioned, and only a single intelligible diegetic word is spoken.

Continue reading “Minimalist Moments: You Were Never Really Here”

In The Gray Man‘s opening scene, future handler Donald Fitzroy (Billy Bob Thornton) informs Sierra Six (Ryan Gosling), who is currently incarcerated for murder, that he ‘seems the type’. And he certainly does. His first film since 2018’s First Man, Gosling has built the later part of his career on strong silent types (The Place Beyond the Pines, Drive, Only God Forgives), many of whom have taken lives in the interest of survival. It might seem disconcerting, then, when Six (a characteristically brief name for Gosling’s characters – the original name from the books, Court Gentry, is pretty much ignored) hits back at Fitzroy with several nonchalant comebacks. Multiple sentences are spoken. The veteran Gosling viewer might be concerned. Is this man going to exceed the sparse word counts of his previous laconic antiheroes (Driver utters only 116 lines; Only God Forgives’ Julian? A mere 17)?

Continue reading “Review: The Gray Man”