The Hangover

This isn't normally the sort of film that I'd go to see at the cinema, although I'd probably catch up with i on TV several years down the line. However, a free ticket can tempt me to the most unlikely things and in this case, I'm extremely pleased that it did. I can't remember the last time that I laughed so much at the cinema. The premise (a bachelor party gone wrong) may sound like it's a typical blokes' film but the preview audience had a good proportion of females and they certainly enjoyed it every bit as much as the men. The key difference between The Hangover and the usual gross-out comedies inflicted on the audience is that some effort has actually been put into developing the characters and creating a plot that engages the viewer. In it's own oddball way, it all makes sense!
After the initial setup - old friends Phil and Stu and future brother-in-law Alan take Doug to Vegas for his bachelor party - the film jumps to the aftermath of the evening. There's a tiger in the bathroom, a baby in the closet, a chicken roaming around - and no Doug. Noone can remember anything; Stu (henpecked by his girlfriend and constantly announcing himself as a doctor only to be undercut by the others' revealing he's a dentist) has a tooth missing; Phil (capable of talking himself into and out of anything) has a hospital wristband; and Alan is just as weird as he was before - and it turns out that it's all his fault. Let's just say it involves the world's worst drug dealer and the purchase of roofies instead of E. The reason the film works so well is that it functions as a mystery for both the characters and the audience. We're no wiser than the trio about what's happened or why, so every surprise for them is also a surprise for us (instead of the expected Merc being driven to them by the valet, they get a police car; Stu discovers he's now a married man; Chinese gangsters keep trying to attack them; and Mike Tyson is *very* pissed off) There are some wonderful comic setpieces throughout, some going the obvious route and others heading off in very strange directions. It's not just the physical comedy, although the sight of grown men being tasered at a class demonstration or dealing with a tiger waking up in their car is inherently funny. There are some hilarious dialogue exchanges too, mostly arising naturally from the situation rather than being shoehorned in because it's a funny line. As the search progresses, the trio get increasingly cut and bruised, not to say outright humiliated, and there's a very nifty bit of misdirection about Doug that wrongfoots cast and viewer. The laughs come constantly which is exactly what you want from a comedy.
But I'm still not sure how the chicken got there ...

Looking for Eric

A lot of people seem to dismiss Ken Loach as a maker of dour socialist polemics. These people are usually British (the French sensibly adore him) and have obviously not seen any of his films recently. Yes, he can do passionately political (Land and Freedom, The Wind That Shakes The Barley, Carla's Song) but what he can also do brilliantly is an earthy humour that thrives among society's have-nots, that binds together friends and family and that gets them through the hard times. In his very best recent work, such as Riff-Raff, Raining Stones and My Name is Joe, the humour and the politics are inextricably entwined, drawing the viewer into the story via a genuine interest in the characters' lives.
Looking for Eric has plenty of humour but also a darker side, as we see how a life can sometimes spiral out of control before a person realizes what's happening. As far as the humour is concerned, not only do we have the (possibly marijuana-induced) appearance of Eric Cantona - a most unlikely saviour if ever there was one - into Eric Bishop's life, dispensing enigmatic bon mots in order to get him back on the right track, but there's also the loveable bunch of fellow posties determined to help their friend. The comic highlight is arguably the self-help session set up by Meatballs, which involves all the gang, some more sceptical than others. Meatballs himself takes these things *very* seriously, which can't be said about all of the group. However, where most films would merely poke fun at this unlikely band engaging in such an activity, there's a delightful surprise as the posties select the person they most admire. While Eric's choice of Cantona is a given, the rest range from Fidel Castro to Gandhi via Nelson Mandela, Sammy Davis and Frank Sinatra) In fact the real theme of the film is summed up by Cantona: "You have to trust your team mates. Always. Otherwise you are lost". It's only through the solidarity of the football fans that Eric can save his stepson from the clutches of a local criminal, but on a more mundane level, his workmates try to cheer him up and worry about him, and the Man Utd fans share a deep camaraderie. People are bound together by family ties, their work, their love for a football team. If you consider this dour polemic, then there's no hope for you.

Anything for Her

As soon as the summer blockbusters arrive, a stream of French films arrive in their wake. In the past couple of years, the most impressive have been muscular thrillers. While these might not end up being the best films of the year, they usually have a satisfying grittiness and an equally appealing "ordinary", mature cast. The leading men are those typically French plain-but-actually-handsome actors such as Francois Cluzet or Daniel Auteuil, the kind you would NEVER find as leads in American films. The women are admittedly classier, but with luck might have more to do than simply stand around looking decorative and/or helpless. Anything for Her is no more plausible than, say, Tell No One and Julien likewise gets increasingly battered and bloodied as the film progresses. As the title suggests, this is a man who will do anything to get his suicidal wife out of jail. He becomes increasingly secretive and taciturn; his flat gradually empties of all furniture and belongings; his work is no longer teaching high school students but accumulating the information required to plan the perfect jail break and escape. I can't help but think that the premise would be even more intriguing if Lisa's innocence hadn't been established - at least for the viewer - quite so early. Some of the Julien's family clearly have their doubts about whether she committed the murder but never Julien himself. He believes wholeheartedly in her innocence, hence his extreme actions to free this innocent woman. If there had been doubt in the mind of the audience, the steps that he takes, and the lives it costs (which include one riff on a scene from Reservoir Dogs) would have left the viewer feeling deeply uneasy. As it is, there's a sense that his actions are all ultimately justified.

Blue Eyelids

Romances don't get more low-key than this. Marina and Victor may end up together but it's not exactly optimistic. They seem to have very little in common apart from their loneliness. Conversations are punctuated by agonizing silences or repeated exchanges. Victor constantly asks about their fellow students but Marina can't remember any of them, not even him. Victor though recognizes her immediately although he comments that she seemed much happier back then. There's no obvious reason why either character should be as isolated as they are. Both are presentable, if poor, but Marina in particular seems crippled by shyness. Desperation rather than attraction prompts her to phone Victor after their initial meeting. You just know that if her sister had agreed to accompany her on the prize holiday, she never would have called him. Victor meanwhile does seem to be genuinely attracted to her despite her lack of much personality. They might have hopes that life will resemble the overblown romantic film they watch together but instead it's rife with disappointments: being ejected from a good table at a bar; a picnic that descends into uncomfortable silence; unsatisfactory sex. Nevertheless, Victor's anger at being stood up for the holiday is shortlived while a repentant Marina wishes she'd had his company. The jump from a reconciliation to an immediate proposal of marriage is both ridiculous (logic says it can't last) and somehow touching (maybe at last they've finally connected with another person) Maybe it is, after all, a happy ending.

Exhibitions

There are some exquisite items on display in the Shah 'Abbas exhibition. The calligraphy and manuscripts are as beautiful as any Western illuminated manuscript. The style might be different but the colour, the finely painted flora and the attention to detail are as aesthetically stunning. Oddly, some of the most lovely items are metallic flasks, with their sinuous shapes and Islamic decoration, although some are influenced by Indian art. In fact, not all the exhibits are Iranian. Shah 'Abbas donated works from his own collections to religious institutions and there are early Chinese and Vietnamese ceramics displayed alongside later Iranian items that they influenced. As Iran was at the centre of trade routes passing East to West, it's not surprising that such influences should occur.
On then to Japanese art. I love landscape and nature prints but have never been quite so fond of those featuring the human figure. However, among Kuniyoshi's warriors, geishas and actors there is a wealth of energy and imagination. Famous warriors fight mythical beasts, actors appear in their famous roles and, as a way of circumventing censorship, animals adopt human guise. Several prints are even in the triptych format. The joins might be obvious and the colour might vary across the 3 sheets but it provides a different overall effect to the usual single sheet print. It doesn't just lend itself to epic subject matter either. It works just as well for portraits of women at work or play. There are also humorous prints to outwit the censors, with octopi behaving as humans and a pleasure district populated by sparrows. The playfulness is what sticks in the mind rather than the belligerent heroes.

Encounters at the End of the World

Early on, Werner Herzog announces that his documentary won't feature "fluffy penguins" - and let's be honest, cute critters and Herzog don't really go together. In fact, he seems far more interested in the eclectic bunch of humans who inhabit McMurdo Station. Not the Station itself though, which Herzog despairingly describes as resembling a mining town. One senses the final straw is the presence of an ATM. Herzog can't wait to leave "civilization" and head out in to the wilderness, albeit a wilderness dotted with assorted scientists. Surprisingly few animals appear: some enderaingly fat, indolent seals, unperturbed by the humans surrounding them; multicoloured, wierd and wonderful marine life under the ice; and yes, penguins. Not fluffy penguins, but penguins nonetheless, although Herzog being Herzog hones in on the one little chap who hesitates before waddling off in the opposite direction to his fellow penguins, towards certain death. The taciturn penguin specialist (who clearly prefers the company of penguins to humans) finds himself on the receiving end of some typically Herzog questioning: are penguins gay? (there are threesomes apparently); do they go insane? (unclear) The backstories of the McMurdo humans are every bit as bizarre. Herzog is fascinated by what has driven former bankers and PhD students to abandon their careers and head to the ends of the earth. Many would fit perfectly into any of his fiction films. He also captures some gloriously surreal moments, such as the whiteout training that involves a group of newcomers bumbling around with white buckets on their heads or the guitar-playing biologists rehearsing on a roof or the recording of seals under the ice sounding just like 1970s avant-garde electronica. Only Herzog.

Mark of an Angel

There'll probably be an inferior American remake of this at some point, infinitely blander and cliched, so see the French original while you can. The viewer is cannily led to doubt the sanity of Elsa when she becomes obsessed with the idea that 7 year old Lola is in fact her own daughter who died as a baby in a hospital fire. Conversational hints point to a woman already psychologically disturbed and it now appears that she's slipping into stalking the child and her family, and possibly much worse. Just when the plot seems to be following a predictable, if stylish, route, events take an unexpected turn. Lola's mother is suddenly captured doing similar actions in similar shots to those of Elsa earler in the film. She seems to be behaving just as irrationally as Elsa. Luckily this isn't Hollywood so there's no abrupt histrionics. The unsettling set pieces peak with a subtly menacing ballet performance but ultimately there's no psycho, no violence (OK, just a teensy bit), just the revelation of a devastating moral choice that gains it's impact from the restraint elsewhere.

Star Trek

Although I grew up watching (and enjoying) re-runs of the orinal Star Trek, I've never been a full-blown, Klingon-spouting fangirl. I easily avoided all the spin-offs, while the films have been decidedly hit and miss. The re-boot thankfully fall sinto the former category despite the diehards manically compiling lists of canon violations. In fact, it's probably not even necessary to be familiar with the original in order to enjoy the film, but anyone who is will be rewarded with some nice injokes and references: Captain Pike; the disposable member of an expedition; Chekhov's heavy accent causing problems with a password; Bones endlessly exasperated; Scotty being banished for transporting Archer's beloved beagle *somewhere* ...
Fortunately the film isn't hamstrung by reverence. There's an energy fizzing through proceedings, beginning with the entry into the world of James Tiberius Kirk himself during the attack on the SS Kelvin by the vengeful Nero. Brat-era Kirk has thankfully brief screen time, while the equivalent Spock scenes establish the human-Vulcan conflict within him, which has an emotional payoff with the fate of his human mother. Noone acts completely out of accepted character although the purists will splutter over one VERY unexpected romance. Sulu's apparently a martial arts expert but also has trouble getting the new Enterprise started in a nice comic touch, while Chekhov gets a lovely moment of youthful exuberence as he solves a transporter problem. The whole time travel plot might provoke some head scratching - although it does reveal a neat touch of deviousness on Spock's part - and Nero's motives are never really as compelling as they should be, but on the whole it's a terrifically enteratining movie.

Cheri

The main reason to see Cheri is Michelle Pfeiffer. She plays the ageing courtesan Lea with a delicacy that's mostly lacking elsewhere in the film - Kathy Bates seems to think she's playing a pantomime dame. Lea's still beautiful, but aware that her lucrative years are almost up. Surrounded by grotesques who were once her colleagues and rivals, she stands apart even without the assistance of an array of sumptuous hats and gowns. No wonder Cheri is bewitched. Lea is presumably equally entranced by his youth as he had minimal loveable qualities. Most of the time in fact he is eminently punchable. Luckily, while Rupert Friend might bear a passing physical resemblance of Orlando Bland, he has considerably more talent. Cheri can be as venomous as his mother, appallingly selfish, but also has moments of barely understood vulnerability. Both he and Lea are ultimately destroyed by the trappings of wealth, essential as they are to both their lives.

Rodchenko and Popova

I always claim that I don't like modern art but actually that statement is far too sweeping. It's also untrue. I've long had a soft spot for Cubism, I adore Franz Marc and I like much of the Kandinsky that I've seen. I think I can now add the Constructivists to the modern art that I like. There's something deeply pleasing about the geometric constructions in the art of Rodchenko and Popova. The slight bleeding of colours in works like the Space-Force Constructions prevents Popova's paintings from feeling too rigid, while Rodchenko's spatial constructions hanging from the ceiling cast ever-changing shadows. What's particularly fascinating about the two artists in this exhibition is the multi-disciplinary nature of their art. Textile designs, theatrical costumes, set designs, book covers, advertising, graphic design, posters, architecture: they applied Constructivist principles to numerous activities, not all of which came to fruition, especially in the field of architecture. Rodchenko's photos also provide a glimpse into the artistic circles of the time, while the Workers' Room allows visitors to step back in time and see just what his practical design must have been like.