Why I hate you, your family & Benjamin Button

        “I waited the whole movie for Benjamin's 

                sweet "boo-yah" revenge

      when a 30-something Brad Pitt would just be...” 

I tiptoe. When burglarising, boom operating and discussing film, television and music in social settings. It’s something I’ve learned to do, particularly from conversations with new acquaintances. I love a good movie discussion and even more so, a good movie debate. I enjoy the banter, brainpower and soapbox involved. However, sometimes these debates fall flat and are incidentally subtitled “Why I hate you, your family and the new Robert Downey Jnr. movie”. I don’t mean to cause offense or alienation; I find disagreement and differences of opinion, when treated with lightness, stimulating stuff. At the very least, you share in common the level of passion on the topic. Not to mention, you start learning about contrasting tastes and readerships. But I’ve discovered not everyone likes to quibble continuity editing, contrived couplings by money-hungry studios, inexplicable lens flares and the logic behind shunning a dancing Penguin from your singing Penguin society. (I don’t care if it’s an Oscar-winning, Robin Williams family film; it was preachy and desperate and nonsensical.) So, these days I opt for a short, subjective review. I like to be liked and what’s wrong with that?

I’ll tell you what – I’m tiiiiiiiiiiiiired. Talking optimistically about movies and in terms of “not so favourite” films doesn’t do it for me. When I started this blog I thought it would be a good platform to consider personal observations on societal, psychoanalytic and artistic levels. Furthermore, I wanted to speak honestly about my opinions. There are sorry excuses for movies out there. Of course any assessment I will make herein regarding quality or “best” and “worst” is contestable. And I don’t mean to offend anyone’s sensibilities or intellect by flat-out describing The Curious Case of Benjamin Button as the worst movie in the history of the world, for instance. This is because: A) I’m prone to exaggeration; B) it would be the grossest understatement of the century; and C) I don’t want to hurt anyone. Nevertheless, this blog is mine. It’s unobtrusive and brought to life by my writing – made three-dimensional by my personality. If I can’t allow myself to pontificate somewhere I might just have an attack.

Both nominated for their performances: Taraji P. Henson & Brad Pitt

To begin my review, I want to point out a few things. First, I love David Fincher’s movies, direction and yellowy colour grading. Second, I think Brad Pitt has done some very mature work in the later part of his career (The Assassination of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford was not talked about enough – formidable, moody and poetic characterisations all around). Third, I adore Cate Blanchett, composer Alexandre Desplat and screenwriter Eric Roth. And F. Scott Fitzgerald had such a cool idea – so why have all these winning ingredients produced a bland, sunken date loaf with dodgy digestive repercussions?

Left to right: David Fincher's Zodiac and Andrew Dominik's The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

  

My brother Damian and I set aside one night to articulate our qualms with this movie from a list of overrated cinema. “A wholly conventional plot; an extraordinary concept wasted on the character’s ordinary life; from the fishing boat stint to the elusive love interest it was a poor-man’s “Forrest Gump” (actually adapted for the screen by Roth) minus signs of any likeable/relatable/eccentric characters and engaging dramatic chapters). What we did admire were the independent variables (cinematography, production design, score, visual effects) that any Oscar-nominated professional can be hired to do to give an unremarkable movie “charm”.

At the NY Ballet: Not so hot to trot

My greatest disappointment lay in Benjamin not showing up that Young Twerp at the ballet who condescended him (as a pasty 50-year old) then split with Daisy. I waited the whole movie for Benjamin’s sweet “boo-yah” revenge when a 30-something Brad Pitt would just be and utterly emasculate the Middle-Aged Twerp. The Harley Davidson and sailing scenes were opportune glory days, but we never did see the Twerp again. It was a minor and fanciful scene I had in mind but I believe it played into the greater, true problem with the movie. What exactly did Benjamin overcome? What was his challenge, his development, his quest? I wouldn’t call his courtship of Cate Blanchett the focus point; no matter how overt and distracting her eye and hair colour were (Frodo-blue and Carrot Top-red, respectively). Aging, whether in reverse or not, does not amount to a plot. Forest Gump’s condition was an endearing and funny undertone to the main action, whereras BB's condition is the main action. It was just Benjamin living, working, eating and relieving himself pretty much. Characters are meant to drive the plot; even in natural disaster / external conflict movies where events are out of control, the protagonist is meant to react or respond or at least raise an eyebrow (face lines everywhere – use them BB!)

Eat Your Heart Out: Benjamin Button in his prime

I have had a few isolated discussions about TCCOBB with friends who have liked it. I asked one at a recent social event: what did Benjamin Button do for you? He described “sweet motorcycle shots”, Brad Pitt’s pan-age good looks and a tear-jerking death scene. Admittedly, Benjamin’s unusual fate and his wife’s caregiver relationship would be tragic to live. However, I found that the bittersweet ending, curiously scored by Desplat, barely appealed to my sympathy.

He can't see us if we don't move:  Lost in Translation

You know, I’m tempted to say “nothing happened” but it’s a lousy dig when reviewing a movie. Opponents of Lost In Translation will often complain it’s a slow-moving, plot-pointless exercise. The pace and point of Lost In Translation are actually fitting for the characters’ situation I believe. They’re stuck, numb and alienated and they bond over it. It was a good story which relied on characters, theme and resonance to win over audiences. BB was a good concept which relied on its makeup, visual effects and art direction to hold our attentions. Movies should be about storytelling and imparting messages and provoking thoughts as much as they’re about technical sophistication. The form and A-list billing of TCCOBB carried the movie alone.

I would slot TCCOBB into a category my family call “Fishing For An Oscar”. These are the kinds of movies that are impeccably cast, gratuitously photographed, politically-themed/historically-set, veteran-directed and rushed/held for a December release date. Movies that have a strong impression on you in the cinema, movies with “visceral performances” and “important messages”, movies that you recommend to friends and, more often than not, cannot endure to watch on DVD and cry over again. They’re movies wherein Hilary Swank, Amy Adams and Anne Hathaway get roughed up, put on accents and take off their tops. Movies like The Aviator, Invictus, American Gangster, Million Dollar Baby, Revolutionary Road, Doubt, Cinderella Man, Crash & Slumdog Millionaire. You sympathise with the characters and feel the high stakes, but commonly find yourself checking your watch saying, “surely this’ll be the last fade-out“, or “when will they have good-looking babies?” or “become paraplegic already”. These movies know they’re a sure thing come Award season; its producers seek prestige and reverence. It’s phony business but will often produce a series of poignant and feel-good films. They're usually great :) but boy they make me wretch. 

  

It's no use, I miss him too darn much. (Left to right) Cold Mountain; Atonement; Brokeback Mountain


And the Academy laps it up. And if you produce a film that isn’t poignant or feel-good but runs too long and makes ajilliongazillion dollars at the box office, they’ll loosen the criterion for Best Picture category so other overrated popcorn flicks can have a swipe at Golden Uncle Oscar Glory next year.

(Sorry. It’s late and I’m real cynical now.)

(PS. I love the Dark Knight)

Proposal For A New Inception

Logical Inception

(oxymoron?)

Please don’t talk to me about Chris Nolan or Michael Bay. I’m exhausted. I’ve stopped counting the number of times I’ve heard sentences that begin “I honestly think Christopher Nolan......” that invariably follow with adjectives like “unrivalled”, “underrated” and “the second coming of Christ”. Nolan’s elegance and Bay’s lack thereof  should just become logic due to everyone’s general consensus. Put it in the science books, add it to the doctrines of all the faiths, let it become as ingrained and undisputed in our lives as blinking. No one talks about blinking. Permit me one final word on the matter and let that be that: I’d take The Rock over The Prestige any day of the week and twice on Sunday (the bloodiest of all seven).



 

Director Michael Bay & Bumblebee







Don't dream it, be it

"I loved your memo..."

         “It was a MISSION STATEMENT.”

I’ve been thinking lately, as one tends to, about my future. I feel like it’s every other day someone asks me “what’s the plan?” or “where are you going?”. Is it that I hate people referring to the next 60 years of my life like a day-trip to the beach, or is it that I hate confronting the circumstantially-infinite though temporally-transient abyss? I have pipedreams and a bucket list of sorts but to be honest, no strategy in gear. The industry I want to work in is like any other – show up on time, put in many hours, be professional, make impressions and try to move up. There is also the hint of that right-time, right-place, right-people kind of luck. Truth is, I dabble too much and aimlessly. If I want to be a writer, why am I working in sound and AD roles? Money – yes. Contacts – yes. Experience – aye aye, Captain. It’s also fun and even if I fall gravely ill tomorrow without having made my TV pilot or whatever, I know I’ve been enjoying myself. But really, it’s not a pure-ecstasy kind of enjoyment. It’s procrastination.

I feel a pressure or maybe it’s an impatience, to be writing professionally and successfully right now. How can I expect this today let alone (metaphorical) tomorrow when I’m dilly-dallying? Doing sound jobs is fair enough, but I’m barely barking up the right bush. What I should do is lock myself into writing two hours or two thousand words every day – whatever comes first. Skip the usual frivolities and really, actively strive to fulfil this dream of mine. Not only is it good advice but a beautiful song by Tim Curry’s Frankenfurter: Don’t dream it, be it. Hell yeah, I can be stuck for ideas but from considering and extrapolating crappy ideas, out will pour new and possibly good ideas. Develop my craft, hone a style, get feedback. Also stop neglecting this dear blog.

I’m not going to set goals against a timeline because I wouldn’t take them seriously. Instead, I am going to swear a wholehearted vow into the Blogiverse and that is I’m going to write, and write and write and write and then some.