marramgrass

It may only be February, but I don’t expect to see a better film than Juno the rest of this year. If you object to some mild spoilers, it’s probably best you stop reading now and go and play a game instead.

Juno of the title is a sixteen year-old girl who decides it’s time to experiment sexually and enlists her friend Paulie to join her — then she ends up pregnant.

It’s a familiar enough premise, but where the movie then goes is unlike anything I’ve seen recently. What marks it out for me, and what makes it so special, is the sheer believability of it all.

Underneath the so-hip-it-hurts witty banter (Juno talks like every teenager wishes they did — she talks like I wish I did), the characters and their relationships, their confusion and fear and their developing reactions to the situation all ring true.

The only real sticking point is that dialogue, which initially feels a little contrived and a little too self-aware, but within ten minutes my brain had found its rhythm and took it for what it was, a little bit of humourous caricature that emphasises depth and honesty rather than hiding it. Ellen Page layers it over her character while still showing us the confusion and insecurity that Juno doesn’t quite want to admit to.

Michael Cera is half of the duo that made Superbad so engaging despite its ick, and he does the same here as the father of the child, fumbling his way through the sweet little love story. He also has the line that captures perfectly what it’s like to be a teenager (at least the way I remember it): Juno says, “‘Cause you’re, like, the coolest person I’ve ever met, and you don’t even have to try, you know…” Paulie’s reply, “I try really hard, actually.”

Other highlights include, unlike in most teen comedies, that Juno’s parents are actually very likable, doing their best to look out for her while they themselves haven’t a clue what to do, and their reaction to her news also seems spot on. The soundtrack sent me straight to iTunes, and the whole look of the film was… I’m sorry that I’m having to stop myself using a word like ‘enchanting’.

The trick the film pulls is that by the end you’ve come to really care about the characters, and when Juno gives birth and is giving her baby up to be adopted, and her father sits with her without saying much, you’re just about ready to cry with her.

Teenage pregnancy is a headline-grabber of an issue, but what Juno does, with its little glimpses of grace, is remind that completely apart from sermons and glib ‘solutions’, real people have to get on dealing with real life.

Cloverfield yesterday after I finished work. I’ve heard some very positive and some very negative reviews of this movie. Here’s mine. I’ll try and avoid spoilers.

In short, pretty good stuff. The hype machine did its job and I was genuinely excited to see this film. I wasn’t disappointed. It’s an old-fashioned monster movie with the tension turned up — they managed to make the characters sympathetic enough to increase the tension, but with minimal back-story. The monsters are class and the handheld filming is very effective, but I had to take regular breaks from looking at the screen: I doubted all the tales of the film inducing motion sickness, but on the big screen it hit my stomach hard. The sound design (no music on the soundtrack until well after the closing credits have started) is actual genius. I don’t use the word lightly — I suspect the audio is a major part of the strength of the film.

I’m conflicted, though.

I’ve read a lot of debate over the destruction of New York-9/11 parallels (for example). I’m not in a position to call that one, since I’ve never even visited the States. I did think about it while watching some of the early destruction scenes, although I can’t say if it’s because I was aware of the discussion beforehand or if it was something the film would have provoked in me by itself. Anything further is too easy for me to say from several thousand miles away.

What I can expand on is my internal argument that runs thusly: “The total lack of exposition is great!” “I want to know all about the monsters!” “It’s always fun to be left with questions.” “Where’d they come from? What happened to her? Why is it happening?” “Too much detail would have totally ruined it.” “But I like detail!”

There’s room for a whole mythology here, and part of me longs for it. The crew probably have it all written down somewhere, and I want to know. But I don’t. But I… You get the idea.

Cloverfield is definitely worth the short running time, just sit as far back from the screen as you can stand :-)

We watched The Kingdom at the weekend. It’s one of those very worthy films that feels like it’s trying to say something profound about the state of humanity and of the world.

While I enjoyed the film greatly — some excellent acting — the trouble was that I wasn’t ever sure exactly what it was trying to say. The punchline at the end tried too hard and just confused me, especially in light of everything that had led up to it.

It’s tense and interesting, the acting is superb and the Saudi police colonel in particular is an excellent character, but I just don’t know it wanted me to take away.

Still worth a watch, though, and the opening timeline sequence is beautifully done.

I’ve just discovered (via Kottke) Why We Write. It’s a daily (ish) series of essays, mainly (but not solely) by writers who are currently striking members of the WGA.

It’s in my nature to be sympathetic to this strike, enthusiastic as I am about many American drama and comedy shows. Independent of that, though, the essays on the site that I’ve had a chance to read yet are fascinating and fun.

So check the sidebar over there for a new link, and I suggest you plug it inot your reader.

Beowulf.

I was looking forward to that film for ages.

It generally looks rather good. The proof is in a few of the faces (Beowulf, Hrothgar, Wiglaf) which are especially impressive, verging on photo-real. Others (Wealthow, Ursula) weren’t as convincing, and Grendel’s mum (Angelina Jolie) was good at a distance, but not so much up-close. I’m talking about her face, okay? There are a few Shrek-type moments, but I’ve a feeling they were ‘extras’ who were fully computer-generated rather than based on motion-captured actors. I can’t confirm that’s so, but it’s what it looked like to me.

I wish there was anywhere in NI where I could see the 3D version. But there’s not.

Beneath the surface, the writers (Gaiman and Avary) made some very interesting changes to the story. If you read over the Wikipedia page, you’ll find some debate and hand-wringing over this. In the source poem, Beowulf is a straight-and-dull action-hero type, but in this film he’s flawed and prideful, and it’s that pride that is his downfall, forming the thread that focusses and unites the three major sections of the plot.

Maybe I’m a bit of a philistine, but for me that makes for a much more interesting story. Tales of redemption are increasingly common in cinema, it seems, and this is a pretty good one. The way Grendel was played for sympathy (honestly, I think I wanted him to win) only strengthened this side of things.

So why am I disappointed?

Partly, I guess, because the film just didn’t live up to my anticipation. And partly because, despite all the great things about it, I felt at a distance from the action and the characters the whole way through. Maybe that’s a consequence of the motion-capture approach, I don’t know. I do have the feeling that the style was a strength – Ray Winstone’s voice was just right, but I don’t know if he’d have been as convincing ‘live’.

It was pretty good, but I can’t help wondering if it could have been so much more.

The weather today has been simply shocking — there’s lots of flooding going on round here.

Makes you glad to be inside in the warm. I think we’ll be lighting the fire tonight when some family come round.

My plans are well under way. We went to see Beowulf last weekend, and I caught The Golden Compass yesterday. They were, to different degrees, disappointing. I’ll come back to them when I’m not supposed to be writing something I actually get paid for…

The list of films, either currently in the cinema or soon to be released, that I would very much like to see. Any chance?

• Beowulf
• The Golden Compass
• I Am Legend
• AvP: Requiem
• Sweeney Todd
• Cloverfield

It should be a good couple of months for film.

The Golden Compass will be an interesting one. I’ve heard a fair bit of concern from Christians over it all. Me, I’m looking forward to it. It’s a few years since I read the books, so I’ll have to go for a re-read before I can post sensibly, but I remember being struck by the sheer quality of them. Pullman is certainly writing from a worldview that differs from my own, but every author writes out of their own head. In the interviews I’ve been reading (sorry, linkage escapes me right now), it appears that he’s mellowed somewhat in his tone over the last few years. I will track down the books again, watch the film, dig out some bits I wrote the first time I read the books, then see what I have to say…

Back when I was a youth worker, I had a lot of free time during the day when everyone else was working. That brought its challenges, but one of the advantages (and I’ll rank it second only after the 9 a.m. alarm) was that it allowed me to indulge one of my weaknesses: cinema.

I took advantage of our local multiplex’s subscription scheme — a tenner a month for as many showings as you wanted — and took in at least one film most weeks, and often two, three or four. It was great. I don’t really get to do that anymore. These days my time is flexible, but I don’t regularly have an afternoon clear to sit in a darkened room with one or two other people (daytime audiences being generally small) simply for the pleasure of it.

But I’m in the midst of a very busy spell that is scattering my work all over the clock, which allowed me to clear a couple of hours this afternoon to briefly return to my old pattern with another indulgence: daft horror films.

30 Days Of Night is vampires mixed up with a hint of Romero zombie. I’ve been enjoying vampire stories since I discovered Anne Rice as a teenager, but none of the recent films have been great. This one isn’t wonderful, either, but it is a little different.

There’s not much in the way of tension, but in between the fights and blood (it’s pretty graphic) it asks a few questions about attitudes to life and suffering which I wasn’t expecting to find here — mainly through the efficiently drawn vampire characters who are arrogant, confident, hopeless and a little despairing (“No hope. Only pain. Only hunger.”), all at once.

It’s not what you’d call high art, and it’s a typical contemporary ‘horror’ in that there’s way more splatter than scare, but there’s just a little bit of depth here that caught me off guard. Interesting, and I’ll now need to track down the graphic novels it’s drawn from and see what else is there.

Having now been to see Stardust twice, I picked up a copy of the book. Enjoying that put me in a bit of a Neil Gaiman mood again, and I ended up grabbing and reading Anansi Boys very quickly, and now I’ve devoured a hefty chunk of his most recent collection of short work, Fragile Things. Anansi Boys is very similar in feel to American Gods, but takes longer to get going. Once it’s up to speed, though, good things.

It’s a while since I’ve read any of his stuff, and I guess I may have to embark on another time through American Gods. It’s fun when you go on an author-kick. At least, I find it so.

And then Beowulf is out this week. Doubt I’ll get a chance to get to go and see it any time soon. Current cinema time got taken up on Friday evening with one of the worst films I’ve seen in a while (I tell you the title — Good Luck Chuck — as a warning, lest you fall prey). The cinema we were at had a very limited selection on, once you discounted the horror fare that I may have ben tempted by but which my wife most certainly was not, so it was the default option. I had had these suspicions as to impending disappointment. Sometimes I should listen to that inner voice, because occasionally it knows what it’s talking about.

(I’ll have to come back to this post when I’m not rushing out the door and hit it with the link-scattergun. It needs it.)

We went to see Stardust over the weekend.

Even though I greatly enjoy Neil Gaiman, it’s a book of his that I’ve never read. I think I might have to.

The film is great fun. I’ve read reviews comparing it to The Princess Bride, and there are certain similarities in feel, but the main thing is that it’s a proper fairy tale. ‘Proper’ because fairy tales are something that Gaiman understands, and that translates well into the film.

Think of a fairy tale you heard when you were young. They can be quite gruesome, can’t they? It’s the casual violence and suffering (even when they’re played for cartoony laughs) that give the ‘happy ever after’ its power and weight.

Go see Stardust.