Media Matters: Peaceful days died. Let's Survive

This feature can also be found at the South West Londoner, here.

Even with my busy schedule, I still try to squeeze in some gaming time. My current vice on Nintendo 3DS right now is Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor Overclocked.

 It's actually something of an old game - it was originally released as just Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor in Japan and America back in 2009, but never saw a UK release. Overclocked is a re-release for the 3DS, but due to publishing issues, it took a whole two years between the Japanese release and ours, released on the March 29.

The game details an unlikely disaster scenario - a large section of Tokyo is suddenly cordoned off by the armed forces. The government say it's due to a poison gas leak, but the thousands trapped inside the danger zone know the truth – it’s an invasion of bloodthirsty demons. Knowing that death is constantly around the corner, they try to survive the lockdown for a week, assuming they don't find a way of escaping. The game's tagline says it all: "Peaceful days died. Let's Survive."

It's a story that's surprisingly easy to relate to. Not so much the demons (although the mythology nerd in me appreciates that), but in the character interaction. The main character is rather plain, but his friends and the other survivors he encounters each have their own concerns and different motivations for trying to escape... or stay.

It got me thinking: if I was in a similar disaster area, would I be able to survive? Lord knows how many fellow nerds made zombie survival plans in light of that now overplayed and overrated horror trope.

Devil Survivor offers little advice, but it definitely discusses the dangers. The electricity going out is one of the biggest threats. We of the Communication Age need electronics more than ever to stay functional. Some people get tetchy when they can't check Facebook at will - having no internet connection at all would destroy them. Most of the food would spoil, and failed traffic lights would cause more than a few accidents.

Fortunately, a lot of our technology is both portable and rechargeable. You may not have desktop access or a call signal, but there are countless handheld chargers out there, even DIY ones if you fancy yourself handy.

After that comes the rioting. In the game, once the public realise that they're being lied to about the poison gas leaks, things get tense - and any small argument could escalate into chaos. In real life, riots will break out the moment people realise they can break shop windows without getting caught.

I still remember the riots in 2011 – although not sparked by disaster, it still remains a great example of what people are capable of if given a little temptation and stirred into a frenzy.

In either case, large groups become a problem. The general consensus on surviving riots is simply to remain detached from it. The closer you are to the incident centre (and the more you're dressed like a rioter, or worse, a person in uniform) the more likely you are to get involved in the fray.

Taking a look at a different work of media for advice - The Walking Dead TV show has seen a lot of success for both being yet another thing with zombies in it, and also being legitimately good (which I admit slightly begrudgingly).

Its narrative focuses more on the relationship dynamics between the survivors more than the, uh, walking dead. It seems that their survival recommendations involve escaping the city entirely, which I doubt I could manage; I'm terrified of the countryside (and nature in general).

They also lack electricity, but have (somewhat intermittent) police radios to communicate. Tension between survivors is often laid on for drama's sake, but it 's clear that becoming a 'lone wolf' in the face of danger will most likely be fatal.

In reality, even though we encounter most of our experience with disaster in media, the survival advice they give is sometimes dangerously inaccurate. Some disaster movies are just plain ridiculous. Even with the presence of demons, Devil Survivor feels a lot more plausible than pretty much all of 2012.

So yes, in a disaster scenario, my media knowledge is probably just going to get me killed. Which is a shame - not because I intend to fight zombies or demons any time soon, but because North Korea's constant threats of nuclear missile strike make me feel I should be collecting tins of food and searching for underground shelters on online estate agent websites.

Luckily, there are countless paranoid people on the internet with detailed disaster survival instructions, from reasonable things like floods to this increasingly likely nuclear apocalypse.

Media Matters: The 7 o'clock news with Shaquille O'Neal

 This feature can also be found at the South West Londoner, here.

The other day, I was in a conversation on the internet about the development of an indie video game. The main characters were to have voice actors, and it just so happened one of the cast was a black guy.

The number of people who suddenly yelled "He should be voiced by Samuel L. Jackson!" was overwhelming.

It made me wonder about the presence of black actors in major releases these days. Setting aside that the internet is filled with idiots, is Samuel L. Jackson the only option Hollywood has for 'the black guy'?
 
Well, no, I'm being hyperbolic - we also have Will Smith. If the role requires someone older, or a narrator, Morgan Freeman's usually the port of call.

There are others (no need to bring up each name of every rapper who's turned a hand to film, for example), but they're very rarely cut out for anything other than a comedy relief role.

If Hollywood needs a British black actor for whatever reason, they're stuck. Ocean's Twelve had to settle for Don Cheadle putting on a disgustingly poor Cockney accent.

That's not to say that there's a total dearth of black actors out there, it's just that they often don't seem to get the kind of high profile exposure that other actors of a similar (or even worse) skill level get.

And that's if the audience don't just dismiss the presence of black actors outright. If you remember back in 2011, Idris Elba had a solid role as Heimdall, in Thor. Naturally, the internet filled with complaints about a black character appearing in what they considered exclusively white mythology.

The Hunger Games had Cinna, a fashion designer played by Lenny Kravitz (who absolutely rocked the gold eyeshadow, by the way). As the book made no direct reference to Cinna's race, there were loads of complaints that they dared to put someone non-white in the role. In fact, there was a character that specifically was mentioned to be black in the text that got the same treatment.

It seems there's a general theme of scripts not giving scope for black characters, or an audience that's unaccepting of them. Though while believable, those are both entirely awful excuses.

But hey, what about ordinary television? TV presenters and show hosts aren't limited by a script to be white, so the demographic ratios should be better, right?

Well, according to Reggie Yates, 29, it's scary how few black faces there are on UK prime-time television.
Himself the only black host on Saturday night television (He hosts The Voice), he feels that not enough is done to accurately reflect the British population.

He told The Sun on the 16th that it was intimidating to be alone in a demographic.

“There’s more opportunity in America — and a bigger black audience," he said.

He's backed up by a comment from Lenny Henry, 54, after the Bafta TV awards last weekend.

A successful comedian in his own right, he said: "I’m working on things and trying to bring about change, but I can’t do it all on my own. We need to invest in these programmes, in rainbow casting, in all of the great black writers, producers and directors who make these programmes."

The point about there being a bigger pool of black TV personalities and actors in the US is a good one. Maybe the solution is to do use our favourable exchange rate, and import more diverse actors from overseas.

I can see it now. Donald Glover hosting CBBC, Lawrence Fishburne starring in endless Channel 4 gritty dramas, Shaquille O'Neal reading the news headlines on BBC Breakfast.

Why not go the whole hog and get me on the television? I would make an incredible game show presenter! Take Me Out would never be the same again.

Film Review: Evil Dead

This review can also be found at the South West Londoner, here.

Despite my passion for the arts, there are gaps in my knowledge. The most salient ones are with film. I became interested in film after a lot of 'cult status' films made their rounds, and with my already huge backlog of films to see, a lot of them have gone unwatched.

So, although I know it was a major factor in forming its genre, I have not seen the original 1981 Evil Dead. Nor am I especially well-versed in the 'slasher' variant of horror films, aside from a regrettable evening where I was coaxed into watching all the Saw films back to back.

So I was entirely down for watching the 2013 reboot. The director is different – this new film is directed by Fede Alvarez instead of the longer-established Sam Raimi – but if it grabbed my attention, I was prepared to fall in love with a whole new genre.

Still, I hedged my bets; I made sure to not step into the screening alone (or sober). That decision turned out to be for the best, as Evil Dead thrives not on its own merit, but by bringing audiences closer through how shamelessly bloody and silly it is.

The plot, I am told, clings close to that of the original. Five teenagers stay in a run-down cabin in the woods, finding that it was used for Shady Things of a Mystical Nature. 

One of them finds a book made from flesh, has the complete lack of foresight to read magic words from it and things get real bloody real fast. Chainsaws, possession and vague sexual abuse metaphors follow.

Interestingly, a lot of this material was familiar to me without having even seen the source material – which says a lot for how well-worn the themes are. As a whole, Evil Dead goes over every standard horror convention with precision but without artistry.

A lot of it was funny, but not often intentionally. While the acting isn't exactly bad, they have a rather weak script to work with, and no performances stand out enough to make it worth recalling actor names. 

Once the evil entity in the house possesses one of the characters, almost every line they utter is hilariously filthy, Exorcist style.

The copious amount of blood thrown around is also worth a giggle (the credits scene has props plunging into endless pools of the stuff), but to Alvarez's credit, all the effects are practical. A worthy mention in an industry filled with computer generated scenery, effects and costumes.

The soundtrack is also one to bring up, if only because it starts blaring loud sirens whenever someone suffers a grievous injury, like ambulances are going to burst in from off camera.
I came out of the cinema feeling entertained, but not especially satisfied, and definitely not scared.

Watch It: If you have a horror movie night arranged with lots of booze, you want a textbook example of the slasher genre (...for whatever reason), you take knowing amusement when 'the black character dies first'.

Skip It: If the sight of blood makes you queasy, you absolutely cannot handle jump scares, you roll your eyes when 'the black character dies first'.

Want more? Actually watching the original film is a safe bet (though I'm not sure if it's necessarily better than this one). Cabin in the Woods makes a perfect companion piece to this film, though I find it notably flawed.

Film Review: Out in the Dark

This review can also be found on Shadowlocked, here.

The BFI London Lesbian & Gay Film Festival is something I truly appreciate. It warms my heart to know that there are actually plenty of films out there that star more than just straight white men as protagonists; and it's a shame that they end up relegated to a single, yearly event.

There were a huge number of films showing this year, almost guaranteeing a wide range of experiences on offer - but I only got to watch one in particular. Out in the Dark, filmed in 2012 and directed by Michael Mayer.

The plot is something rather simple. Nimer (Nicholas Jacob) is a Palestinian student who, on a risky night out to an Israeli nightclub meets Roy (Michael Aloni), an Israeli lawyer. Their love blossoms rapidly, but severe social standards (and gun-happy police) get in the way. More on the plot later.

From a technical perspective, the film is incredibly solid. Film production norms differ from country to country, so one of the fun things about foreign film is seeing the different stylistic rules they go by.

The cinematography was nothing to hugely fawn over, but the wide shots of the skyline and city streets did wonders for a loser like me who is obsessively urban. The dialogue style definitely stood out - lengthy chats pierced with succinct one word sentences, in a blend of Hebrew and Arabic that's sadly lost on my monolingual self.

The decision to have the plot heavily focus on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is a harrowing, but well-researched one. It assumes you know the basics of the issue, and although you can understand all of the story without prior knowledge, being aware of the background definitely helps add context.

What it also adds is a marginally fresher angle on what would otherwise be a tired love story. Straight romances in films are rather rote, but gay (male) ones are more so in a slightly different way.

Star crossed lovers, one humble and sexually introverted, the other metropolitan and liberated have their love halted by the grim face of systemic oppression (feel free to imagine those two words in a 72pt font and on fire). It's a valid story, but it's one told a little too often.

As such, the racial conflict adds some flavour to the proceedings; juxtaposing cute intimate moments and longing stares with border crossers getting shot in the head.

It's all a very well-produced reminder of the social injustices in the world, both sexual and racial - but we know this all already. That is, the people who would be inclined to see Out in the Dark in the first place. Dudebro McHomophobe would definitely benefit from watching something so well made (and with such impact, too), but you'd have a better chance of actually ending oppression than getting him into the cinema.

It's all very 'preaching to the choir', really. That's not the end of the world - we all like to have our political opinions re-enforced, but in the end I ended up not enjoying Out in the Dark as much as I could have done – I was holding out for something more experimental.

I continue to wait for the action blockbuster where Jake Gyllenhaal saves Ben Whishaw from an exploding building, and they make out to the sound of helicopter blades and gunfire. Now that would be progressive.

My Big Mouth: Queer up the media

This feature can also be found at the South West Londoner, here.

A thought experiment for you:

Think of three pieces of media (books, film, games, whatever) that meet the following criteria:

• The main character is straight. 
• The piece is not of the Romance genre. 
• The sexuality of the main character and its social impacts are not the main plot point.

You could probably name at least 10 without thinking too hard. Now try to do the same, but with a queer main character. Go on, I'll wait.

If you've managed to think of any, congratulations! No, seriously, it's a pretty difficult challenge; feel free to tell me what you've thought of in the comments.

I suppose it's nothing that you think too much about unless you're actually affected by it, but the presence of characters in fiction that aren't straight and white isn't thrillingly prevalent.

However, queer media definitely exists out there - this month had BFI's 27th London Lesbian & Gay Film Festival. The problem is, all this content is kept away from the mainstream, and only given a chance to shine once a year.

That's great for all the pretentious artsy types who already know how wonderfully liberal and accepting they are, but the people who need to see queer media the most barely know it's around. The teenagers who are questioning their identity and sexuality; people who are jaded with the stereotypes they're spoon-fed; that one old homophobic guy down the pub. You know the one. I hate that guy.

What we do get in the mainstream media isn't making me super-thrilled to be open about my sexuality. I'm not too keen on the idea of having my skull cracked open with a tyre iron (Brokeback Mountain), nor do I want to pursue a career in being a Sassy Gay Best Friend (The Hellish Nightmare that is Glee). Though I'm sure I could make a killing if I did. Maybe with the aforesaid tyre iron.

For sure, I would have been a lot more confident in my identity growing up if there was a role model who was much like me. That's not to say my imagination was so poor I couldn't project myself into a James Bond power fantasy - the assortment of gay villains excepting - but a reminder that queer heroes (or black heroes or female heroes...) are allowed to exist would be nice.

To flip it on its head, only those who are the most literal and devoid of critical thought could argue that an increased number of openly queer protagonists would be alienating to straight audiences. Last time I checked, empathy and sexual expression were two different things, unless you consider How I Met Your Mother the pinnacle of character-driven storytelling.

Speaking of which, I'm finding it a lot harder to watch action films these days. Aside from gunfights and explosions being tired mindless pap; the levels of machismo are so over-emphasised and forced, it's like a high budget blockbuster Shrine to Straightness. Sucker Punch managed to be full to the brim of bubbling testosterone with barely any men on screen. The sight of Vin Diesel flexing has been scientifically proven to instantly impregnate women.

The secret to creating reasonable queer media isn't some kind of well-guarded secret. They're the same as the media we already consume, with the genders of the romances switched around. It doesn't seem like an unreasonable demand to have, say, a crime thriller where the long-suffering detective happens to be a lesbian.

Oh. That actually exists. Well okay then.

That's not to say that good queer media can't or shouldn't explore sexuality as a main theme, it just often feels like that's all that we're given. I want to identify with an escapist fantasy, not systemic oppression so gritty I could use it as sandpaper. Explorations of sex are enjoyable enough in private, but it's not something I could share with others, for obvious reasons.

Then again, maybe some soapboxing and issue awareness is a first step in what we need right now. It recently came to light that the 'Ex-Gay' advertisements produced by the Christian group Core Issues Trust was, although banned in short order, deemed 'not illegal' by the High Court. Regardless of legality technicalities, that the advert exists at all is indicative of a serious need to queer up the media.

Film Review: A Late Quartet

This review can also be found at the South West Londoner, here.

Despite my constant burning need to see pretentious non-mainstream film (if it's in a different language or about socio-politics, even better), my knowledge of the fine arts is actually not so great.

My initial interest in seeing A Late Quartet was, embarrassingly, because Christopher Walken takes a major role in it. He's had a myriad of roles and cameos in films since the 60s, many of which ended up being cult hits. He even starred in some terrible video games in the mid 90s.

A large part of his popularity is his notably stilted speech, and since it tends to work best in comedies, I was interested to see how he would fare in something that looked to be so serious.

As it turns out, A Late Quartet is wonderfully human and moving, and Walken does a great performance by... largely not being there. It's an odd situation.
 
Pete Mitchell (Walken) is the cellist in an internationally famous string quartet called The Fugue. He shares the spotlight with Daniel Lerner (Mark Ivanir) on Violin I, Robert Gelbart (Philip Seymour Hoffman) on Violin II and Juliette Gelbart (Catherine Keener) on Viola.

Recently Pete's playing has been affected by his shaking hands. After a doctors appointment, he finds out that it's Parkinsons, and bows out from The Fugue, asking the other members to find a replacement.

As it turns out, this upset sparks desires for change in the rest of the quartet, and emotional havoc ensues.

It's all very melodramatic, but the way the script is written makes that not matter. All the narrative points are closely and expertly woven in with the films themes, in a way that you won't need a degree in media studies to get (though a little knowledge about classical music will help).

The ideas are honestly clever, from the way that the amount of time Pete is on screen is related to how badly he's suffering from his condition (though he's arguably the protagonist, Parkinsons is very effective at taking away his agency, both as a disease and in the script), to how the emotional issues of the quartet match up nicely with the musical role they play.

The soundtrack was funnily enough, a mixed bag. There are some elegant and well timed cues of classical string pieces, including the one piece that the film is arguably 'about', that I won't spoil for you. However, it's matched with a general orchestral score that feels very generic. Although the two musical styles share instruments, the feel is very different. It made some scenes feel notably schmaltzy - though that may just be my jaded heart.

That said, the experience as a whole was touching. It manages to pull you along on an emotionally manipulative ride so well you'd think it was a Hollywood production, if it wasn't for the quietly middle class subject matter.

Watch It: If you know your way around a string section, If you want to see a cult actor happily make peace with his age on film, if you want a talking point for your film discussion club.

Skip It: If the phrase 'human drama' makes you dry heave, if you're not ready to make peace with your age, if you want something that doesn't feature the American Middle Class.

Want more? Go and check out some live classical quartets! I promise, it's a moving experience the first time. If you want to see Walken in something cheerier, he has a great supporting role in Catch Me If You Can.

Film Review: Stoker

This review can also be found at the South West Londoner, here.

I do love a bit of Gothic Horror. Not because I'm a fan of the macabre (not entirely, anyway), but because it has a wonderful precedent of being understated. And in the current Hollywood climate, bombast and explosions are king - so Stoker is a refreshing presence.

Director Park Chan-wook had a worldwide cult hit with Oldboy in 2003, but Stoker is his first film with English actors. India Stoker (Mia Wasikowska, Alice in Wonderland) is a troubled girl living in opulent American Suburbia. Her father sadly deceased, she's quietly withdrawn but comfortable - until her Uncle Charlie (Matthew Goode, Watchmen) comes to stay, and gets a little too close to her mother Evelyn (Nicole Kidman).

Things soon escalate, but carefully and quietly. The first act is very much a slow burner, but when the spark of intrigue shows itself, you begin to reach the state of mind that the film demands - a focus on the finer details. This is helped in no small part by the cinematography director Chung-hoon Chung, who sets up shot after shot filled with detail. There's a scene where a close-up of long hair pans and fades into swaying long grass. It's perfectly done, and pretentious as all get out.

The acting definitely reflects that - while no one is under acting, the script is filled with hushed fear, quiet lusting and silent anger. Nicole Kidman pulls off hateful, piercing stares that I never knew she was capable of.While there's a heavy focus of suspenseful horror; there's also a core of human drama, as India grows into herself. She could be best described as Wednesday Adams reaching adolescence; and it works wonderfully.

When the instances of violence occur (and they definitely do occur, though not as intensely as in Oldboy) it's a huge snapping of tension, and I appreciated the film's low-key nature for it. It takes skilled direction to have violence that will get a reaction from its audience (since we're generally desensitised to watching mild violence in films these days) without it going into fetishistic territory. Likewise, discussions and display of sexuality are toyed with here, often feeling unsettling but never gratuitous or disturbing.

It's what, in my opinion, separates it from the standard Hollywood fare. In a traditional suspense horror film, the violence and feelings of entrapment come on hard and heavy, and after a while the impact is lost. More so with the standard of action films. Some manage to go beyond the basic requirement of  'all spectacle, no substance' (I don't know anyone who didn't love Django Unchained, and would rather not meet them), but that kind of film making is both easy and lucrative, so there may not be a change on that front for some time.

Watch It: If you want to watch something different from the current releases, if you're a fan of cinematography, if you fondly remember The Addams Family or Daria.

Skip It: If you want more laid-back cinema, if you're wary of sexuality without romance, if you picked on 'the quiet kid' in high school.

Want more? Why not look at Shadow of a Doubt, a Hitchcock work which heavily inspires Stoker's plot. Definitely watch more of Park Chan-wook’s films if you haven’t already – if Oldboy is too extreme for you, I’m a Cyborg, But That’s Okay is a more comical affair.

5 video games that demand a film adaptation (and some that don't)

Going by the AAA titles, game design shares elements with film design. Having a fully voiced and acted plotline is common these days. However, video games make for poor films. Game series that get adapted to film are campy cult hits at best, and a waste of everyone's time at worst.

Still, games adapted to film aren't an entirely toxic concept; it just takes a little bit of lateral thinking. Here are 5 films I feel could be interesting adaptations, and a few that definitely shouldn't make a trip to Hollywood. (Note that some titles I mention may be in production already. Just because they exist doesn't mean they should.)

Take them to the silver screen

Yakuza (2005, Sega)

Who would direct it?: Chan-wook Park (Oldboy)

Yakuza has drama on two levels. On one, there's the inter-personal relationships of ageing yakuza members searching for peace and comfort. On another, there's Kazuma Kiryu repeatedly ramming a barstool into some thug's face.

Adapted as an action movie, a gradual swing between emotional torment and low budget, brutally choreographed violence would be deliciously harrowing; a welcome escape from the CGI and explosions that's the normal go-to for the genre.

Luigi's Mansion (2002, Nintendo)

Who would direct it?: Dean DeBlois (How to Train Your Dragon, Mulan)

Feel-good summer blockbuster of the year; one plumber who has long suffered in his brother's shadow, plucks up the courage to be the driving force in his own life. A decent animation studio is a must - the Mushroom Kingdom doesn't work in real-life proportions, evidenced many times.

Half the fun would be Luigi's ghostbusting antics, the other half being a great art direction. Hey, if Disney's Wreck-It Ralph makes a decent return at the box office, and they retain the license to use Nintendo characters, this may not end up being conjecture.

...I wish.

Driver: San Francisco (2011, Ubisoft)

Who would direct it?: Scott Sanders (Black Dynamite)

Driver:SF is a love letter to the car chase genre, right down to bonus missions that reference big-name films set in San Fran. However, a Scary Movie style adaptation with endless references isn't going to cut it.

The plot of Driver:SF is campy, simple and incidental (John Tanner is a cop chasing down criminal mastermind Charles Jericho - even in his dreams), meaning a film version can go all out in telling a self-parodying tale about comas, fast cars, and rebellious police.

If they manage to retain the game's mechanic of Tanner possessing other drivers, the chase sequences could be unlike any other.

L.A. Noire (2011, Team Bondie)

Who would direct it?: Michel Hazanavicius (The Artist)

The Artist, though I didn't care for it, proved an important point - the techniques of old can have modern relevance. Gaming fans already know about this (what with all the retro-style indie games out there), but here it means that mimicking old film styles has more validity than just being a gimmick.

L.A. Noire's 1940s setting heavily reflects actual Film Noir (right down to the use of flashback), but Film Noir is traditionally done in the 'past tense' (with the protagonist as a narrator), while L.A. Noire is very much 'present tense'. Doing the adaptation in a true-to-period style would make for an interesting angle, and might encourage viewers to look into some Noir classics.

Mother 3 (2006, Nintendo)

Who would direct it?: Chris Butler (ParaNorman, Coraline)

The Mother series is known for its cute and colourful settings, with a darker horrifying plot underneath. That kind of setup just begs to be told in a twee stop-motion format (without Tim Burton, preferably).

Mother 3 in particular is a great tale experienced by few, and a surprisingly sad and moving one at that. Having recently watched ParaNorman, the team behind that would do incredible justice to such a project. Just... Don't let very young children watch - they may be permanently scarred.

Keep them on the game console

Mass Effect series (2007-2012, Bioware)

Mass Effect's charm really isn't in its world-building. What the games did well was making that world feel relevant to the player - a range of choices in character design, dialogue options, good/evil dichotomies, and so on. A film (being a linear narrative) has to choose a single story path - so writers of a Mass Effect movie would have to try and encompass a representative telling of the games with a single continuity - and that just ain't happening.

The series' huge backstory also puts it in a position similar to the lacklustre Watchmen. A fine line stands between drowning newcomers in lore, and not having enough in-jokes for the diehard fans. Failure results in a hot mess. Mass Effect would likely suffer even worse - fans are going to take every difference between the film and their own personal experience on board.

Uncharted series (2007-2011, Naughty Dog)

Uncharted is already 90% film. The set pieces in the series are grand and dramatic, but the best moments are where you have control during the death-defying parts - the possibility that you could mess up and leave Nathan Drake to perish. Just watching the same scene (without the uncertainty of survival, no less) voids that tension.

Aside from that, the actual events in the Uncharted games are pressingly generic in action films. We've had decades of ruins exploration, shoot-outs against Russians and snappy one-liners - Drake as a character can't offer anything new to that formula.

Heavy Rain (2010, Quantic Dream)

Heavy Rain is, in a way, a film rendered as a video game. The director, David Cage, has gone on record many times saying that the future of games is to make them more like films, and has yet to prove himself correct.

The game's cinematography is definitely first class, but little else is. Heavy Rain's story is unique for a game, but dire for a film. Character motivations are all over the place, and the character plot threads are hastily stitched together. An adaptation would have to fix so much to make things competent, it may as well be a different story.

Final Notes

Video game stories are generally unambitious and often pandering, but a common complaint levelled at film adaptations (and this holds true for films adapted from other kinds of media) is that the narrative strays too far from the original work. The long-term fans want to see their darlings in a 1:1 translation, and won't stand for less.

The best film adaptations that I've seen don't take the source's story verbatim, but instead understand the feel of the original. The Street Fighter movie isn't great, but it's an adaptation that definitely captures the goofy nature of Street Fighter, even if the character roles and actor choices are unorthodox.

If game-to-film adaptations are to succeed, the games with a strong theme, easily understood context, and with room for reinterpretation are key. Just taking what sells well isn't going to cut it.

Then again, since when were adaptations about artistic integrity?

Skoonheid (Beauty)

This article can also be found at The Yorker, here.


I'm all for more queer-themed films. Not just because I'm one of those filthy heathen LGBTQ types, but because there's scope for more stories to be told than common blockbuster archetypes; or failing that, a fresh twist on them.

I assumed Beauty, a South African film by director Oliver Hermanus, would prove to be another Weekend, a low-key hit that tells a story from a queer perspective. I was introduced to the film with the synopsis that the protagonist (François, played by Deon Lotz) was a middle-aged man from a bigoted background, forced to struggle with his own latent homosexuality.

  This led me to take for granted that I was in for an experience where lessons would be learned, hearts may end up being warmed, and regardless of the outcome, it would give the viewer something to think about. Yes, this assumption is a little stale and saccharine; but I feel we're still socially at a stage where a minority-positive message is important and helpful.

Too bad that Beauty ended up as far from that as possible. François has unbridled lust in Christian (Charlie Keegan), the son of a close friend - close enough for them to be in a uncle/nephew relationship; and it's actually a little unclear that this isn't the case. For some reason this swiftly escalates into stalking, and eventually - and I apologize for spoiling the film's climax - rape.

This ungraceful plunge off the moral deep-end isn't done with much character development; at least nothing to make François a character worth following or Christian more complex than a plot device.
Sure, we get multiple scenes of lingering and dialogue-free shots of François going about his business - Hermanus takes the Axiom 'show, don't tell' a little too close to heart, and these moments are meant to give you the chance to read François' expression and ponder about what's on his mind; but they're a total waste - most feel like a tool to pad out the film's 105 minutes, and are dull enough to make the film feel more like 2+ hours.

If, at the end of it all, there was a resolution, or some kind of visible sign that François realises he's a terrible human being, then prepare to throw down your hat in disgust and frustration. After the sexual abuse, Christian vanishes from the narrative, his plot device fulfilled.

The sole redeeming factor of this appalling mess was the script - the characters are bilingual in both English and Afrikaans, and code-switch freely. It's something that I've not seen done in a film before - even ones that have dialogue in multiple languages - and it helps make the conversations feel more legitimate and real.

In fact, realism may have been what Hermanus was going for - there's no doubt that in real life there are mentally disturbed hypocritical bigots, and something like 90% of sexual assaults do go unreported (regardless of gender); but this is not the way to deliver such awful and distressing topics.
If this is ever released on DVD, I hope there's a bonus scene of François being hit by a truck. Then I would hate Beauty marginally less.

Film Review: Les Adoptés (The Adopted)

©Studio Canal

My media consumption is largely starved of quality Human Drama - partially because I'm a fan of psychological/horror, partially because a lot of my media consumption is in video games, and they tend not to handle emotional narrative too well. To that end, I do relish it when a well-made emotional rollercoaster comes along, and to that end Les Adoptés (The Adopted) knows how to push my buttons.

Maybe the reason for my appreciation is the 'Foreign Film' angle. I'm not pretentious enough to label non-English films as better by default, but it works in The Adopted's favour thanks to the cultural differences. While a romantic film about beautiful people living bohemian lives in Paris is nothing new, it feels just that little more understated compared to how Hollywood might handle it.

The plot follows sisters Marine (Marie Denarnaud) and Lisa (Mélanie Laurent), equally raising Lisa's child, Léo. Marine is actually adopted, but it's never proved a problem for the pair, having been best friends since childhood. Then, when Marine meets Alex (Denis Menochet), a ruggedly handsome (and I do mean handsome) food critic, Marie has to juggle the love of her life, and the fear of shattering the status-quo with her sister.

So far, so stereotypical, right? But there's a catch - at the end of the first act, Marine is suddenly out of the picture, and the narrative focuses on Lisa and Alex instead. The shift in tone is hardly whiplash, but it's clear that The Adopted isn't going to finish how it started out.

Still, the writing is definitely great at keeping pace. Dialogue is witty, especially that from Lisa's mother, Millie (Clémentine Célarié); possibly owed to a well-localised subtitles translation. I found myself enjoying the character ups-and-downs for the 100 minutes without thinking of how much longer the film was. That said, while the film's events were kept snappy from scene-to-scene, the actual sense of time progression was really vague. Knowing how much time passes over the course of the second act would do a lot more for empathising with the cast.

What really bowled me over was me not loathing Léo. Young children in cinema are, as a rule, entirely insufferable; both on screen and in the seats. And yet, i found myself largely tolerating this kid; even finding him somewhat... cute. How appalling; I must be going soft.

The Adopted is definitely a cheesy drama, but most likely more so by French standards than British. If you're looking for something relaxing but still engaging, this should be your film to watch this week.

This review can be found at The Yorker, here.

Ugly on the inside: Girl Model review

This review can be found at The Yorker, here.

I would say it's relatively common knowledge that the fashion advertising industry is toxic. In addition to all the body-shaming and the increasingly unrealistic and creepy 'standards' of beauty, you don't even need to go into gender studies theory to notice the exploitation and manipulation of everyone involved.

With that in mind, Girl Model, a documentary film about how model scouting works and the quality of life for the models, is very clear about the tone it's going to supply.

©wiki commons

Focusing on Nadya, a young Russian girl aiming to be a model, and Ashley, a scout tasked with finding models for the Japanese market, the film follows Nadya's story chronologically, switching to Ashley every now and again as something of a Greek Chorus - Ashley was a model herself when she was 18, and her experience has affected her; maybe even broken her.

The idea that the modelling industry is problematic is always present, but not always overt. In the very first scene the camera pans around a room full of Siberian girls for an initial try-out, almost all of them look scared and self-concious, standing around awkwardly in bikinis and bathing suits, only smiling (awkwardly) when they notice they're being filmed. Girls are turned down for being 2 centimetres too wide in the hips, and althoughGirl Model makes no direct reference to anorexia and eating disorders, looking at what models 'qualify' speaks for itself.

This is, of course, compounded by the constant discussion of youth and innocence as beauty. It's not a new concept - you could find countless examples in advertising that echo that axiom - but when you're told that alongside images of young girls (we're talking kids as young as 13 here), it's shudder-inducing. Ashley says multiple times that it's what the market in Japan demands, but you hope that's a sales pitch, and not the whole truth.

I personally find documentary films an odd breed - especially since I personally go to the cinema for a more pacey, tense experience; but Girl Model has its own tension. Watching naive teens get exploited should be harrowing for most, even when they (tastefully) decide not to fully discuss just how morally ambiguous fashion advertising can get. The scenes with Ashley steal the show as you slowly find out just how damaged she's become.

Not quite psychological warfare: Safe House review

This review can also be found at The Yorker, here.

Tobin Frost (Denzel Washington) is an ex-CIA agent who's widely respected and somewhat feared by intelligence agencies worldwide for two reasons. Firstly, he's a psychological genius; secondly, he makes a living stealing governmental secrets and selling them for astronomical amounts. This is the kind of anti-hero that you'd love to see in an action-thriller; someone capable of baffling his foes and still asserting an air of confidant dominance.

©wiki commons

Unfortunately, Safe House is not that movie. Instead, we get another loud, somewhat obnoxious action film with more emphasis on gunfights than any kind of character interaction. Denzel doesn't get to be the main character; that accolade instead goes to Ryan Reynolds, playing as Matt Weston - the keeper of a South African safe house that Tobin has been kept in to be interrogated by the CIA.

Nor is there much in the way of clever mind games, with the exception of two scenes. Admittedly those scenes do a good job of demonstrating Tobin's skills, but generally I found myself far more interested in his story and motivations, rather than the generic Milquetoast protagonist I'd been lumped with.

I suppose the worst part of action films like this is that they rely almost a little too heavily on the gun-play - so any points where there's a lull in the shooting and screaming, the pace takes a complete nosedive - a real issue when the film is two hours. I found myself dozing off at around the hour mark before being awoken to the sound of a car being crashed through something.

An odd point of note is the agency secrets that Tobin safeguards through the film. Due to the 'in the near future' setting, this McGuffin isn't as present - spending most of the film lodged in Tobin's flesh. Then, once that plot hook resolves, the impact is really rather understated.

Safe House has a decent cast, and leads with some rather interesting plot hooks, but it fails to deliver on all accounts.

I now hate everything: Journey 2: the Mysterious Island

This review can also be found at The Yorker, here.

Good god, I hated this movie. I have never had a piece of cinema just fill me with so much ire, so much frustration, so much... fremdschämen on behalf of the actors. My hate for it permeates every aspect of the film and my own being.

I hate how it's a sequel to a 2008 film that no one cared about. Journey to the Center of the Earthwarranted no sequel, and no one who had seen it would be expecting another one. At the showing I watched, I was accompanied by about ten 8 year olds, none of whom would even remember the existence of the original film. A bit of a waste, considering they're the intended audience.

©warner bros; Image Credit: wikipedia

I hate the cast. Dwayne Johnson may have given up one form of acting for another by entering film after his wrestling career, but I can't wait until he stops being cast for things. Josh Hutcherson being cast as the main character is a given, considering he was also in the original film, but his entire presence feels like he's trying to imitate Shia LeBoeuf (and that's not a good thing). We get treated to a Sean Anderson that's the 'rebel teen' all the kids want to be. He rides a motorcycle! He gets to go on adventures! He hates his mom and step-dad just like me! Groan.

And my loathing for the characters doesn't stop there. Sean's little escapade to the titular island doesn't just feature The Rock, but also an Objectified Female Lead (Vanessa Hudgens) and a Comedic Racist Caricature (Luiz Guzmán)! I just love it when the only woman in an adventure film is decked out in a belly top and short-shorts while everyone else gets to wear clothes that don't expose them to the elements. It gets even better when her father exists to make the kids laugh at 'the silly fat man falling down', coupled with one-liners in a meant-to-be-Polynesia accent (that funnily enough his daughter doesn't have. Don't want the love interest to be too foreign!)

Oh, and I really hate the writing. From the contrived circumstances that get them to the island (rapid solving of obtuse clues that wouldn't look out of place on The Crystal Maze); to the way the script absolutely refuses to show, not tell; to the scene at the end where Objectified Female Lead stops her father from taking a golden boulder back with him by saying "We already have the real treasure... we're together". And the line where The Rock sees a giant lizard and says "Why did it have to be lizards? Why couldn't it be snakes?" as if referencing Indiana Jones would suddenly make this trash comparable.

I hate the graphics of this movie. You know it's on the "In 3D!" bandwagon because there's a scene every 20 minutes where there's a slow motion pan and particle effects fly into the camera. It's so regular you could set your watch by it. What's worse is that none of it looks good - especially if you watch it in regular old 2D like I did. The CG effects are so conspicuous that the rest of the scenery props look defiantly fake. Plastic plants and Styrofoam rocks abound.

It positively boils my blood that people will say "It doesn't matter that this movie isn't good. It's for kids!" Children are impressionable people, and media in all forms - from film to television to games - will have an effect on how they see the world. Journey 2 doesn't have to be a masterpiece, but it doesn't need to be a cynical low-budget action film cashing in on the safe knowledge that parents are entirely willing to feed their kids junk if it will keep them quiet. It's taking locations from the works of Jules Verne! Imagine if a film encouraged children to actually read; it would be glorious.

And what I hate most is that this has already happened before in 2001 with Spy Kids. Everything from the graphics to the writing to the style of casting. I watched that film a bunch of times when I was a kid, and it just makes me want to shake my younger self and say "Dude! There are so many better movies out there!"

On the other hand, the kids in the cinema loved it; in amongst the throwing of popcorn and the shrieking. If you know someone you hate who has a child under 10, recommending them this film would be appropriate torment.

Film Review: Weekend

This review can also be found at The Yorker.

The majority of my experience with romance-type movies has been rooted firmly in the sappy, feel-good realm. And I can't goddamn stand them. Boy meets girl in a chance encounter - potentially a rather strange one; their stark personality differences make it seem like they're never going to make a deeper connection; they argue, but in the end see how badly they need each other and get together again in a sequence scientifically tested to produce the largest "Awwww" from its audience.

Weekend does check all those boxes, but at the same time it throws all those boxes out of the window, and calls you stupid for bringing up such a formulaic romance plot. Weekend tries to offer something much more real and bittersweet; and starts off by centering the entire thing around a gay romance. Which, for me, definitely puts it in 'real and bittersweet' territory, but more on that later.

Russell (Tom Cullen) is stuck in emotional limbo. While he's incredibly close to his friends, he's also really closed-off when it comes to talking about himself. On a whim he visits a gay bar, meets Glen (Chris New), and ends up having hazy, drunken sex. All he knows is that Glen is an artist, outgoing and agressively open with his sexuality; and over the period of a weekend, they find that meeting each other has become one of the best and one of the worst things that has happened to them.

This is where the Realness Factor comes in. Everything from the setting to the key events of the narrative are subdued and coated in that thick, matte grey that covers England's inner-city urban living. It feels so familiar - I understand and recognise the motorways, the glum rides on public transport, and the shitty and cramped nightclubs. However, that's not to say that Weekend entirely forgoes more traditional film techniques, or is entirely moody and grim. The tone switches from melancholic to funny to sexy (I'm way too prudish to talk about the sex scenes in any real detail but it manages to be both steamy and tasteful with little effort) at a regular rate without stumbling in pacing.

However, Weekend is a movie with a message - and a rather self-defeating one at that. Glen's openness about his sexuality is augmented with intense ire for a society that's so heterocentric and prudish, which Russell occasionally gets the brunt of. This means that every so often Glen will have a rant about his favourite topic, and the scene stops just short of flashing "HERE'S THE MORAL" on-screen. That's not to say that message imparted is wrong, quite the opposite (if asked I would wholeheartedly rave about how social stigma gives LGBT issues the short end of the stick), but no one likes being beaten over the head with a message - even if making it that obvious could be argued as necessary.

Building on this idea, at one point Glen discusses an art installation he's planning regarding gay sexual experiences, but admits that (and forgive me for not having the exact quote) gay people wouldn't go without the promise of nudity, and straight people wouldn't go because homosexuality is still considered a weird and taboo topic for many. You could hear a number of nervous laughs in the audience at that line.

That theme struck a personal chord with me - while inwardly I could agree with most of Glen's viewpoint, on every other level I embody Russell's emotionally-distant awkwardness. It made the romance between the two leads - the small silences, the confiding of secrets, the holding of hands - both heart-wrenchingly cute and depressingly unobtainable. The film's resolution, while not dancing to the rhythm of how a prototypical romance should go, instead sticks closely to the conclusion the general tone of the film implies.

While most first think of Brokeback Mountain as the must-see film with gay themes, for me Weekend is set to have much more social significance. That said, I am still waiting for a film where a homosexual protagonist doesn't have his (or her) own sexuality as the main conflict.

Film Review: Dream House

Psychological thrillers are hard to do properly. Whether trying to appeal to a pretentious deep-seated metaphor, or just a set up for an M. Night Shaymalan-esque twist, attention absoltuely has to be paid to keeping the twist obscured, and orchestrated to pack the biggest emotional punch; what's colloquially known as the 'MindF**k'. What you can't go and do is give the twist at the end of the first act with next to no buildup.

It looks like Dream House didn't get the memo.

Okay, so the premise then. Daniel Craig is Will Atenton, a British man with an all-American family, moving into the house of his dreams. Problem is, the neighbours are freaked out by him, there are goths hanging out in his basement, and... oh yeah, five years ago the family living there were shot in cold blood. So not so dreamy then.

This could have devolved into a run-of-the-mill slasher film with the ghosts of the recently deceased causing havoc, but no, Dream House is clearly too smart for something so gauche. After finding out that the husband of the murdered family survived and was interred at the local mental hospital, Will goes to visit the facility, and then The Twist happens. I would feel bad for spelling it out (though the film's trailer blatantly spoils the twist...), but I'll just say that the reveal is laughably contrived, lacked build-up, and poor Daniel Craig did his best to act as if the revelation was tearing him apart.

With the twist out of the way so early into the film, the rest of the runtime is taken up with a one-sided murder mystery. Only Will Atenton seems particularly interested with the pursuit of the truth, neither the police nor the audience offer more than a shrug, and just leave him to get on with it.

That's not to say that Daniel and the rest of the cast are doing a bad job of working with the awful source material; they just can't do anything to save it. A fair amount of dialogue is required from the two daughters of the family in order to go for a sappy, heartstring-pulling angle (rendering them immediately annoying from the get-go), and the rest of the cast does a good job of keeping them in line, but the end result doesn't really work. It's pandering and tedious.

Dream House's thrilling conclusion goes down like the clichéd path it was predestined to roll towards. Villains are evil and hateful simply because they're evil and hateful, everything goes down in flames, and it all resolves with a happy ending like there was no gruesome murder in the first place. Yawn.

Dream House turned out to be a movie that thought it could survive on star power. Hopefully its failure will stand out as an example to other film projects as what not to do when putting a thriller together.

Film Review - Bad Teacher

This review can also be found at the Yorker (where it was uploaded ages ago, and I forgot to mirror it here...)

I never go to the movies alone. The idea of sitting in a theatre - especially a near-empty theatre - with no company and everyone else wondering why you've shown up alone is incredibly creepy and sends shivers down my spine. When I mentioned to my friends that I was going to see Bad Teacher, and if any of them wanted to join me, they all looked at the floor and made polite excuses. That should have been my warning to ABORT ABORT ABORT.

It turns out that going alone to a movie that has nothing of content aside from Cameron Diaz painfully posturing definitely makes you look creepy.

To fill you in on what little plot there is; Elizabeth (Cameron Diaz) has recently divorced from an apparently week-long marriage, when the other half realises she's only with him for the money. Without a sugar daddy she's forced to work at a junior high school, where the teachers are uncool but well-meaning, and the students are... not really focused on. At the same time, she decides the best method to get back on track is to shell out for a pair of $9000 breasts - and 'wacky hi-jinks' follow.

Unenthusiastic? I don't blame you. The idea of an anti-hero protagonist working as an incompetent teacher is something we've definitely seen before, and much of the movie reminded me of School of Rock in all the wrong ways. You could even describe Bad Teacher as “School of Rock, with Jack Black now sporting breasts, bleached hair and being dry-humped by Justin Timberlake”. Oh great, now I feel physically ill.

While I can put up with a movie that exists for the sake of peddling "T 'n' A", or a premise that rides on the concept of other successful (though not necessarily good) releases, what gets me is how the story almost wilfully goes nowhere. In addition to the Quest for Fake Mammaries, Elizabeth is lucky enough to get a subplot where she competes with another - more competent, but rather anal - member of staff for substitute teacher Scott (played by the aforesaid Justin Timberlake). Both plot threads resolve; but they happen so close to the end, you almost don't notice. Indeed, you could potentially remove the film's finale and watch the second act over again, and the character and plot progression would still make sense. But I don't recommend anyone tries that.

"But Nathan!", I hear you cry. "Easy-to-watch films with puerile humour can be fun to watch, especially with friends. You just have no sense of humour!" What a hurtful thing to say! Bad Teacher offers little in the way of legitimate humour, even when trying to be risqué. It readily throws boobs and weed and the F-word at you, but it doesn't actually try and do anything witty with them, and definitely feels like it's refraining from offending anyone. The film vaguely hints at Scott having a character flaw in his 'white privilege' making him unintentionally racist; but they bury that quickly, and don't bring it up again. A missed opportunity for humour at his expense, but maybe them not elaborating on it is a bullet dodged.

If you want an easy 'n' cheesy American comedy, then I recommend you Green Hornet. It has all the perverted jokes you could ever want, backed up by some good actors and action sequences. If you want grown women being mean to each other, look no further than Desperate Housewives. Not a movie, but that just means it lasts longer.

Bad Teacher is a film about wasting $9k on cosmetic surgery. And I just wasted £5.50 watching it.