I spent my Jubilee bank holiday in the most appropriate way possible: avoiding any and all Jubilee celebrations. I think the flotilla might have been on in the background while I was running a salsa playlist through Spotify. At least, I seem to have a memory of a very damp choir and a lot of boats moving extremely slowly down the Thames. Must have been riveting.
Anyway. As a result of successful avoidance tactics, I spent a lot of time in the cinema this week. Rather than drag out three long posts (in one particular example it would be very easy indeed to spin off into major rant mode) I thought I’d do a more condensed version. Three films, 200 words a piece. Here we go.
Snow White And The Huntsman was a pleasant surprise. It embraced the darkness at the heart of the tale, rolling in elements of Countess Dracula and, in the icky relationship between the Queen and her brother, Game Of Thrones. Kirsten Thomas brought a determination and toughness to the role of Snow White, and I bought her as a warrior princess. But this show belongs to Charlize Theron, who takes an iconic villain and gives her a touch of vulnerability and motivation. The whole shebang rolls along pleasingly, looks great and is never boring.
Prometheus made me angry. It strives to answer all the big questions and please an entrenched fanbase and fails dismally on both levels. Bulging with plot holes and fubars, and full of unsympathetic characters doing unbelievable things, it’s a Faberge egg of a film. Gorgeous to look at (and so it should be, helmed by one of the industry’s prime visual stylists), but hollow on the inside. Ridley Scott seems to think there’s another two films in the franchise. I’d rather he got this one right.
Meanwhile, Wes Anderson gets everything right in his latest, Moonrise Kingdom. An exquisite little puzzle-box, the film considers the joys and heartbreak of first love in his typically idiosyncratic way. Anderson is at his best when he’s in full control of the environment, and his New England island setting seems to have sprung fully-formed from his brow. Some will find the deadpan delivery and arch, precise camerawork (Anderson loves his grids almost as much as Kubrick) irritating. I loved every minute of it.
There you have it. It’s surprisingly difficult writing to tight wordcount. I hope I chose the right ones, and got them in (approximately, at least) the right order.
EXCUSES AND HALF TRUTHS 