For A Few Movies More

The Heisenberg Principle. To those who haven’t heard of it I must appear somewhere on the loser side of nerd just for mentioning it; for those who have heard of it I would land somewhere in the realm of kitsch-hipster; whereas I use the term hoping to transcend the losers and the kitschsters and just be considered a hip nerd. But then, I’m not so nerdy because I just looked up the Heisenberg Principle wiki page after watching Breaking Bad; and less so hip as I only say kitsch with such derogatory sentiment because I bought a Spanish poster of the 70s film Quadrophenia in Argentina and some gay German guy said “Oh I guess it’s kind of Kitsch, right?” – His stinging condescension forever embedded in the word. So anyway, nerd class aside, Heisenberg states that an object will change its manner once you begin to observe it and therefore it is difficult to get a true reading. But self observation is my mainstay – my onlystay – so what was I like before I started blogging? Before I started analysing my own life in vacant forums? Maybe I should I get out my travel diary from back in 2008 and put in on the internet for all to see. Generally I think it is a collection of post pubescent teen angst with the occasional mention of a film. Which, to be honest, is pretty much what I’ve got here, so suck it Heisy, I’m still me!

Contraband, the latest Mark Wahlberg action thriller was a movie that I really wanted to like. Sure, it may have looked like a no-nonsense, slightly B-grade crime film, but I was ok with that. The focus on that rare pedigree of cinematic criminals, smugglers, looked intriguing, plus the gritty look and feel made promises of an exhilarating, hard-hitting experience. However despite all of this potential, Contraband’s convoluted plot, melodramatic tone and erratic pacing ultimately leads it astray, leaving it feeling more like Contrabland (I am so sorry for that…).

Mark Wahlberg plays the role of Chris Farraday, an infamous smuggler who has left his life of crime behind to set up a legitimate business and to settle down with his loving wife, Kate (Kate Beckinsale). However his peaceful existence is upended when Kate’s brother Andy (Caleb Landry Jones) botches a drug smuggling job for sociopathic crime boss Tim Briggs (Giovanni Ribisi). To payoff Andy’s sizeable debt and in turn save his life, Chris has to travel to Peru to smuggle back a sizable quantity of contraband for one final time. However since this is the land of cinema where nothing is bound to go smoothly, things very quickly begin to fall apart.

The 4^th of August, 1962. The day that the terrible news spread across the world in a tidal wave of shock, sorrow, and heartbreak. It was the day that Norma Jean Mortenson, better known to the world as Marilyn Monroe, aged just 36 at the time, was found dead in her bedroom in Brentwood, Los Angeles. Cause of death: never conclusively proven. Some believe it to be a common celebrity drug overdose. Some say it was suicide. Others argue that she was murdered. What actually happened? Nobody knows. There is plenty of evidence to support all scenarios. But with the 50^th anniversary of the tragic death of the famously beautiful and talented woman who won the hearts of millions worldwide coming up this year, we can expect the conspiracy nuts to be out in force. But enough of the unpleasantness. Let us forget about all those horrid, raving, paranoid nutjobs and their rabid rants, and turn to the subject of Marilyn at the height of her greatness. And what better way to appreciate this than with the timely release of Simon Curtis’s My Week With Marilyn?

The film, based on Colin Clark’s account of his experience working as third assistant director on the set of The Sleeping Prince (released as The Prince and the Showgirl) at the tender age of 23, introduces us to the wonderful world of film making and acting through the fresh young eyes of a newcomer. The story starts out quite simply about this young man, Colin Clark (played with the most endearing innocence by Eddie Redmayne) the black sheep of his family, who wishes to “run off and join the circus”. The “circus” in this cased, being the film industry. It seems vaguely predictable what will happen as he audaciously marches off to London and approaches the offices of Sir Laurence Olivier, and refuses to leave until he is employed. He is rejected at first, but his persistence wins through, and in no time flat, Sir Laurence takes Clark under his wing and whisks him up into the wonderful world of film production. Oh for the days when such a thing might conceivably happen, agonises I, in this age in which it seems one needs formal qualifications just to take a piss, let alone secure employment in one’s dream job. Olivier, wonderfully portrayed as something of a strutting peacock by the supremely talented Kenneth Brannagh, has a major motion picture in the works, set to star himself, alongside Marilyn Monroe (a mesmerising performance by Michelle Williams). It is to be his crowning glory. But little does Olivier realise that working with Monroe will drive him to the very brink of his sanity.

1960s Alabama, and resident old dude Jim Caldwell (Robert Duvall) has just had another clash with his veteran-hippie son Carroll (Kevin Bacon) and wants nothing to do with him. Youngest son Skip is a bit of a weirdo and not much better, but luckily he still has live-in son Jimbo (Robert Patrick) who has turned out alright. During dinner one night, they receive a phone call from England — Jim’s ex-wife Naomi has just passed away. Her second husband Kingsley Bedford (John Hurt), along with his two children Phillip (Ray Stevenson) and Camilla (Frances O’Connor), will be bringing her body back to the States so she can be buried “with her people”. 

Movies, a means to escape the dreary repetition of day-to-day routine for some, but for others they’re a way of life. I couldn’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent basking in the gloomy interior of various cinemas, devouring countless films of varying quality. But needless to say I’ve enjoyed every second doing so. And as sad as this may sound, I can honestly state that sitting silently inside a dark room alongside a handful of strangers taking in the flickering images in front of me has equated to some of the most memorable experiences throughout my apparently incredibly uneventful life.

Some of you may argue that one cinema experience is almost identical to the last; the same chatting teenagers, the same sticky seats and the same overpriced popcorn. And while I certainly agree that these certainly are familiar staples associated with the cinema, there are certain factors that can enhance a run of the mill theatre experience and transform it into something truly special. So come with us in a journey back in time as we here at For A Few Movies More reflect upon those special few theatrical experiences that have left a memorable lasting impact upon us. And as always, don’t forget to leave your own suggestions and thoughts in the comments section below.

The possibility for The Grey to fail miserably was all too great. In the wrong hands this man vs. wolves grudge match could have easily digressed into a feature length version of the laughable wolf sequence from The Day After Tomorrow. However under the focused guidance of director Joe Carnahan (Narc, Smoking Aces), The Grey is instead a terrifying and solemn experience that explores the feeble mortality of man and the potential of death that looms around every corner. This grim subject matter often makes for a very gloomy viewing experience; however it’s not without its beauty. While we may be watching a group of individuals attempting to deal with their immanent demises, there’s still an almost inspiring feeling to the film. Life is worth fighting for we’re told and this message makes for some startling emotional moments throughout. It’s this inescapable emotional core that saves The Grey from resembling the hackneyed, run of your mill Hollywood outing it could have been and instead allows it to naturally bloom into a deep and moving film. Make no mistake about it; The Grey is an absorbing piece of cinema that demands your attention.

The Grey’s plot is deceptively simple, but that’s ok. This isn’t a film in need of a detailed plot rife with twists and turns, instead all it requires is a basic setup to set the stage for the ensuing nonstop bombardment of nail biting set pieces. Neeson is Ottway, a wolf expert tasked with protecting members of an Alaskan drilling team from the ferocious beasts while working in the wild. His peculiar knowledge and skill set is put to the test however when the plane he and several members of the drilling team are travelling on crash-lands into the isolated Alaskan wilderness. After rounding up the few survivors, Ottway attempts to lead the group to safety, all the while battling the extreme climate and worse, a pack of vicious wolves who view the group as intruders.

I don’t know what it is exactly about Bob Marley, but there’s something about the guy that seems to appeal to everyone. Sure, he had some great songs, was a poet both lyrically and in person, and led a life with intent to do something, not just make money. But apart from all that, he had some kind of spirit that connected with people when he sang. You might not know someone who is necessarily a big reggae fan, but you’ll definitely know someone who’s a Marley fan (ie, yours truly). Bob Marley’s music crossed borders, race and religion, even while he himself became an iconic symbol for these very things that were connected to him — Jamaica, being half black/half white, and Rastafarianism. But more than his music, or even what he stood for, as a person Marley led an interesting life that sadly was cut way too short (he died at the age of 36).

The documentary Marley, directed by Kevin MacDonald, follows the life of legendary musician Robert Nesta Marley, aka Bob Marley. With impressive access to practically every important person in Marley’s life — his family, friends, members of the Wailers, fellow musicians — the film follows him from childhood to young adult, from the start of his career to making it big and travelling the world, and finally to his eventual early passing while still in the prime of both his life and career.

If there is such a thing as “GDR Nostalgia”, then This Ain’t California will make you feel it. Even if you’re not a socialist, even if you were born after the Berlin Wall came down, even if you’re not even German — this documentary will make you yearn for the good ol’ days of pre-unification Germany.

For those of you who need a slight history refresher, here’s a recap. After World War II, Germany was split into two; Allies-controlled West Germany, and Soviet-controlled East Germany, aka the GDR. The west was marching freely towards a bright future, open to capitalism, and opportunities were plentiful. The east though seemed stuck in a more constricting socialism, living in a land that put high importance on citizens who served their country through sports achievements, not to mention the presence of a paranoia-inducing secret service, the Stasi. These were tense times for both sides, but that reality of a country and people divided by a wall is told from a unique perspective in this engrossing documentary.

Everyone loves a musical. Go on. Admit it. You do too. We all do, whether we’re prepared to admit it or not. I have seen the most joyless, straight laced types go nuts on the dance floor singing along to “Summer Lovin’” and “Greased Lightning” when “Grease Megamix” comes on, or perhaps doing the “Time Warp” again. And with the revival of the musical film in recent years we have seen some great new classics join the ranks of the all time musical greats, such as “Chicago”, “Sweeney Todd”, “Hairspray”, and next year we can confidently expect “Les Miserables” to do likewise. But of course, as with any genre, not every film can be an instant classic. We have also seen some utterly horrible ones be puffed out onto the silver screen recently. In 2007 Julie Taymor taught us all that even the Beatles are not infallible with her disappointingly flat “Across The Universe”. Rob Marshall bet all the credibility he’d earned from the success of “Chicago” and lost it all with 2009’s memorably forgettable “Nine”. And in 2005 Chris Columbus spectacularly failed to win audiences over with his disappointing film version of John Larson’s massive Broadway hit “Rent”. Now, in the lead-up to the resoundingly unenthusiastic release of the big-screen adaptation of the somewhat popular musical “Rock Of Ages”, it is far more difficult to summon up excitement for such cinematic outings as it was a few years back when the musical was making its triumphant comeback. In fact, one rather awaits the day they start to really scrape the bottom of the musical barrel and release things like “Closing Time: The Semisonic Spectacular” , or “Do You Really Want To Hurt Me? – The Boy George Story”.