Showing posts with label Stanley Kubrick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stanley Kubrick. Show all posts

Thursday, 12 July 2012

THE IMDB TOP 50 CHALLENGE #34 Dr Strangelove


Stanley Kubrick made The Shining, Full Metal Jacket and A Clockwork Orange. For this perfect hat-trick of films, i’m quite prepared to forgive him the shit-on-a-stick which was Eyes Wide Shut. But as much as i worship the man, there’s one of his films which i just don’t get.

Dr Strangelove (Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb) is a film beloved by critics and the central performance of Peter Sellers lauded as one of the finest ever. But i don’t quite see the appeal.

Perhaps i’m just too young. The Cold War was not a hugely significant presence in my life, and as a result the tensions and hostilities between the US and Russia had little impact on me. Dr Strangelove’s central conceit plays heavily on the absurd enmity between the superpowers, and fails to resonate with me entirely.

The storyline concerns a ridiculous turn of events which see the US military poised to bomb Russia to kingdom come with a series of 40 megaton nuclear missiles. This inevitable bombardment is the direct result of a rogue commander’s order and a series of illogical fail-safes which make calling off the mission impossible.

On the other side of the Iron Curtain, the Russians have built a ‘doomsday machine’ which will automatically detonate in the event of an attack on the Soviet Union. Unfortunately, the US were unaware of this, meaning that once their bomb drops, the Soviets will launch a counter-strike which, combine with the American bombs, will destroy every living thing on the planet.

For me, Dr Strangelove has dated far more than Kubrick’s other output. The satiric edge has been blunted by time, with many of the jokes falling flat. At the time, i’m sure the movie was fresh, immediate and savagely political. Now, the deadpan delivery and names-as-puns seem tame and slightly old-fashioned.

Peter Sellers gives three excellent performances in his triple role as effete US President Merkin Muffley, RAF Captain Lionel Mandrake and the eponymous Strangelove, but for a younger audience (and i’m not that young) Dr Strangelove lacks the required laughs.

Monday, 14 May 2012

THE IMDB TOP 50 CHALLENGE #48 The Shining


I don’t find films scary. They sometimes make me jump, they occasionally make me squirm but they never genuinely frighten me. Except The Shining. It’s creepy, chilling and nasty in the most insidious, horrible way imaginable. And Jack Nicholson’s Jack Torrance is arguably screen’s greatest monster – malevolent, violent and, crucially, believable.

Steven King’s source material is a relatively straightforward haunted house tale. Set in The Overlook Hotel, it details the mental breakdown of the winter caretaker, Jack, under the building’s malign influence. He’s a writer who’s taken the job in the hope that it will allow him time to finish his first novel. Once he and his wife Wendy and young son Danny are alone, however, the spirits which caused the previous janitor to slaughter his family with an axe begin to affect Torrance.

Stanley Kubrick interpreted King’s novel very differently. Whilst King’s novel focused on Danny, the director saw The Shining as being very much Jack’s story. For Kubrick, the supernatural elements of the story were peripheral: the psychological breakdown of Jack was key.

Much has been made of King’s disgust at Kubrick’s interpretation. He voiced his displeasure regularly and went as far as to script and produce his own (vastly inferior) mini-series. What is less well publicised, however, is his later admittance that Kubrick’s version could not be improved: ‘Could it have been done better? Over the years I’ve come to believe that it probably could not.’

Having made the decision to focus so much attention on Jack, it was vital that Kubrick employed the right man for the job. Hiring Jack Nicholson was a no-brainer. Having been embroiled in the Roman Polanski rape scandal, fresh from discovering his sister was actually his mother, and with rumours of extensive cocaine consumption, Nicholson was perfectly poised to play a man on the peripheries of a breakdown.

Occasionally his mania borders on lunacy – with Nicholson evidently relishing the opportunity to express Torrance’s madness. Grinning maniacally, at times his performance verges on the animalistic as he charges around the Overlook’s corridors like a gorilla, swinging his arms, grunting and wheezing.

Less successful was the casting of Shelley Duvall as Wendy. An inexperienced actress used to working on Robert Altman’s improvisatory movies, she struggled with the emotional and physical intensity of a Kubrick shoot: her jittery, nervy performance reflects her exhaustion and anxieties. She later confessed that she felt the director disliked her and had driven her unmercifully – and after filming one take 127 times, she was probably right.

Still, given the intensity of Nicholson’s performance, it’s little wonder that Duvall appears on edge. Jack’s obvious hostility towards his wife and child is ever apparent – even the one scene of intimacy between father and son is edged with malice as he asks, “Wouldn’t you like to stay here... forever?” The tension between the three is explained through a long scene in which Wendy tells a paediatrician that Jack had accidentally dislocated Danny’s shoulder whilst drunk some months ago. Thanks largely to Duvall’s jittery performance it’s unclear whether her account is entirely true – an ambiguity which serves the narrative well.

This scene also explains Danny’s retreat into himself and his relationship with Tony – an imaginary friend who lives ‘in his mouth’ and ‘tells him things’. Although his parents believe this to be little more than a childish fad, the audience are privy to far more information: Danny has the ability to ‘shine’. The youngster has precognitive powers and is able to communicate telepathically – leaving him sensitive to the ghostly history of the Overlook.

Much of The Shining is told from Danny’s perspective – literally. The recent invention of the Steadicam enthused Kubrick greatly and he used the new technology to its full advantage. Scenes of Danny careering around the Overlook on his tricycle remain the most famous and iconic use of Steadicam committed to celluloid.

Kubrick improvised heavily in order to produce the results required, adapting a wheelchair by adding platforms for the crew and a speedometer to ensure the results could be accurately replicated time and again. With the camera slung low to the ground and runners on either side steadying the contraption, Kubrick was able to follow Danny everywhere.

The tiny child is swamped by the wide hallways of the hotel, pedalling feverishly yet managing to put no distance between himself and the viewer – thanks to the constant proximity of the Steadicam. It’s a brilliantly effective way of illustrating the size of the Overlook and hinting at the horrors that lurk behind the locked doors he scoots past. Even the sound here is menacing – an alternate rolling clatter and carpet-muffled silence. Despite the scale of the corridors, it’s an intensely claustrophobic sequence.

Horror is everywhere in the hotel, most famously as blood pours out of an elevator and sloshes down the hallway. But it’s not just set-pieces which reveal the sinister nature of the Overlook. Kubrick utilises strange perspectives and repeated motifs throughout, often echoing Jack’s state of mind and actions. Nothing in the frame is insignificant – Kubrick had Elstree Studios bulldoze whole street scenes to build his intricate set.

Kubrick is a director totally unafraid to allow atmosphere to take precedence over action, and The Shining is a startling example of this. Relatively little actually happens until the film’s final act, with Kubrick gradually ratcheting up the tension and posing unanswered question after unanswered question. But when Jack finally tires of being a ‘dull boy’, the action accelerates towards a series of famous axe-blows, a chilling crescendo and, finally, a mysterious lingering shot of an old photograph.

In the end, it’s impossible to know for certain what happened or why. Each of the three protagonists are unreliable thanks to their fragile psyches, repressed rage, guilt and fear. Instead, Kubrick creates a multi-layered, wilfully ambiguous chiller which stringently adheres to the mantra of his great hero HP Lovecraft: “In all things mysterious... never explain!”

For real Shining geeks, http://www.theoverlookhotel.com/ is a treasure trove of related imagery, facts, trivia and art inspired by the film.

Much of the research for this article came from John Baxter’s wonderful biography Stanley Kubrick.

Saturday, 12 May 2012

THE IMDB TOP 50 CHALLENGE #50 Fritz Lang’s M


Made in 1931, Fritz Lang’s M is a film which has, unlike many of the same period, aged rather well. Coming just years after the advent of ‘talkies’, its dialogue is remarkably well written and performed. Similarly, the themes explored in the movie are just as relevant today as they were upon M’s original release.

Set in Berlin, the story tells of Peter Lorre’s unnamed child-killer. Despite having killed at least eight young children, the police have no concrete leads and are stretched to capacity. With swarms of officers combing the city for the murderer, organised crime syndicates and brothels are forced to quell their activities, severely disrupting their capacity to earn money. As a result, one crime-clan decides to take the law into their own hands and catch the killer themselves.

Lang sets the scene with predictable Teutonic efficiency. As children sing nursery rhymes about the murderer, his next victim innocently bounces a ball against a poster detailing the killer’s crimes. Just seconds later, he abducts her.

Even more impressive is the way the director creates his panicked city. Through a combination of short scenes and voiceovers he depicts various raids, avenues of investigation and encounters with the prickly and frightened public. Everyone is implicated and yet nobody is prosecuted: the investigation is a shambles. Thankfully, the criminals are more resourceful than the police, recruiting the local beggars as spies. This information network quickly reveals the identity of the killer – thanks largely to a creepily whistled musical motif.

It’s at this point that M gets really interesting. Whilst its theme of moral panic still resonates with a modern audience, it’s the idea of vigilante justice which remains most relevant. The murderer (probably the first psychopathic serial killer scene on film) is brought in front of a kangaroo court to plead for his life.

It’s a stunning set-piece. Peter Lorre’s acting looks a little dated now, but still packs a weighty emotional punch – as well as posing some serious moral questions. Lang’s direction and cinematography here are glorious: the assembled crowd are shot as a grotesque gallery leering at their prey, yet he still manages to create a sense of ambiguity about which way their decision will go.

It’s a shame that the rest of M doesn’t quite match its amazing ending. At time the pacing is a little pedestrian. Over the years there have been various restorations made to the original print which have added to the running time – perhaps Lang’s more compact cut was a snappier production. There are some scenes which could certainly have been lost with no effect on the narrative. Many of these have no sound whatsoever – this could be a hangover from the recent ‘silent’ period, but more likely the sound simply didn’t exist when restoring the print.

It’s slightly churlish to complain about such things, however. If Lang had concentrated solely on advancing the storyline, he wouldn’t have given us some of the beautiful cinematography he produced here. Poetic cutaways of a child’s ball and a balloon trapped in power lines have become iconic, but it’s the expertly framed shots of geometric shapes (buildings, windows and staircases particularly) which stay lodged in the mind.

Various filmmakers owe a debt of gratitude to Fritz Lang and his influence has been enormous. For students of cinema, M shows exactly why. Although aspects of his masterpiece have dated, it’s still a movie with interesting things to say about cinema and, more importantly, society.

Thursday, 10 May 2012

THE IMDB TOP 50 CHALLENGE


I had a friend at university who was obsessed with those films that you are ‘supposed’ to admire: those films which consistently top ‘greatest’ polls and are artistic, stylish and highly rated by cultural arbiters. Whenever he was asked to produce a list of his favourite films (this happened regularly in our group of geeky media students) it would exactly mirror the American Film Institute’s Top 50. This used to infuriate me to the point of apoplexy – I simply did not, would not and could not believe that he really felt Citizen Kane was the greatest movie ever made. He was a bullshitter regurgitating other people’s opinions in a bid to appear educated.

I make no bones about the fact that my favourite films are those ones which I grew up on, which I can quote endlessly and never tire of watching: The Goonies, The Princess Bride, Amelie, Withnail & I. I can admire the titles which are highly regarded but I don’t necessarily love them.

Thankfully, the internet has democratised such lists, allowing votes to be distributed equally and enabling everyone to have their say. And the greatest collection of votes is that of meta-movie website The Internet Movie Database.

IMDB is the most comprehensive database of movie information and opinion the world has ever seen. And their constantly changing top-rated 50 is the best reflection of what film fans really love. As a result, Citizen Kane and Casablanca share company with Fight Club and Forrest Gump, films from the thirties vie for top spot with releases from 2012 and Hitchcock, Spielberg and Scorsese slug it out to be considered the world’s best director.

And so, as a little project for myself and a little (hopefully educational) treat for you, I’ll be reviewing every single film in the top fifty over the coming months. I’ve seen most of them already, but a few will be new to me. Hopefully I’ll enjoy them. I hope you enjoy reading the reviews and that they inspire you to watch some of the classic films I’ll be writing about.

Enjoy...