BP Portrait Award 2010 - National Portrait Gallery

The Little sister - Raymond Chandler (1949)

The original ice-pick thriller?

"Her name is Orfamay Quest and she's come all the way from Manhattan, Kansas, to find her missing brother Orrin. Or least ways that's what she tells PI Philip Marlowe, offering him a measly twenty bucks for the privilege. But Marlowe's feeling charitable - though it's not long before he wishes he wasn't so sweet. You see, Orrin's trail leads Marlowe to luscious movie starlets, uppity gangsters, suspicious cops and corpses with ice picks jammed in their necks. When trouble comes calling, sometimes it's best to pretend to be out?"

The Little Sister, with its overcomplicated and somewhat strained plotline, is not one of Chandler’s best, though even his lesser efforts show flashes of genius. Chandler's noirish tour of Hollywood feels a little worn and tired, however - much like Mr Marlowe himself I suppose.

“Easy Marlowe, you’re not human tonight”

Tintin and The Secret of Literature - Tom McCarthy

Tom McCarthy's engagingly written and playful exploration of Tintin's various tombs, crypts, crevices, ships, halls, urns, crannies and, yes, even clits, is by turns frustrating and entertaining. At the very least the book is to be appreciated for its palpable and infectious affection for Hergé's boy reporter. I was left slightly disappointed, however, by the book's failure to engage with the particularities of Hergé's medium and in what ways it might diverge from the literature to which it holds 'the secret.'

The Mysteries of Pittsburgh - Michael Chabon (1988)

A book that should be mandatory reading for aspiring writers, The Mysteries of Pittsburgh is a testament to the fact that good writing is something that requires practice, effort and, perhaps even, a little maturity. Chabon's first book, started when he was just 21 is so blindingly inferior to his better efforts that only my continued astonishment at its awfulness kept me reading to the end.

Coming across as part-autobiographical and part-wish-fulfillment fantasy, the plot centres around, Art Bechstein, a directionless, colourless university graduate with an unlikely family background - he's the son of a Jewish money launderer working for the mob. Meeting two alluring and attractive students at the University Library, Arthur and the improbably named Phlox, Art bounces back and forth between the two and enters into the constellation of characters that surround them, and crosses orbits, catastrophically, with Cleveland, a highly-literate biker with criminal ambitions. The problems, aside from Art's blank nothingness, begin with the fact that neither Phlox or Arthur are very compelling characters. Neither are their respective worlds very glamarous or exciting. So it's not just a little difficult to understand Art's enchantment. In fact, it's downright irritating and hints at a lack of experience on Chabon's part which feels embarrassingly revealing. As if to compensate, the Cleveland character tries to inject a little excitement and weight into the narrative by using his connection to Art to get himself a gig as a jewel-thief. Overly ambitious and careless, Cleveland draws down the wrath of Papa Bechstein who promptly orders him to be disposed of. Cleveland dies in a melodramatic and overwrought set-piece centred around the 'Cloud Factory' - a mysterious, quasi-mythological factory which produces perfect puffs of smoke - clouds - in a secluded little Pittsburgh valley. Bleaurgh.

Still, worth reading for the reassuring message that, yes, you too can be a writer. Well, maybe. If you every just got on with it.

Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs (2009) - Phil Lord and Chris Miller

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus - Terry Gilliam (2009)

Chritopher Plummer plays Dr Parnassus, a mystic fallen on hard-times. Now the leader of a small, travelling circus troupe he must lure punters through a mirror and into their imaginations, where they will be tested by the Devil (played by the movie's one redeeming feature, Tom Waits). It's difficult to know how they're being tested exactly. There's some lip service paid to the idea of a 'high road' but never any indication of what taking this high road might involve. One thing that does seem to be clear is that Gilliam doesn't want us to think of it as some sort of moralistic division between right and wrong. Oh, and there's something about the redemptive power of our imaginations. Psshaw! Please, Mr Gilliam, please. I understand nothing about the redemptive power of the imagination after watching your movie. (Unless you count the imagination of the art director, who does work rather hard it must be said. ) Instead, we're treated to sketches of scenes, strung together without any clear narrative, and peopled with irritating and loathsome characters who have the emotional depth of children. Stupid children.

Perhaps I'm being too literal and narrow here. Perhaps I'm too dense to appreciate the "shape-shifting morality play about the loss of the importance of “storytelling” (that is, psychologically constructive myth-making) in a society whose primary values are convenience and complacency. All of this is accomplished through a series of lush explorations of identity, desire, and the act of confronting one’s fear of death." But I don't think it's enough for a film to namecheck themes and ideas without actually exploring them! The 'lush explorations' are about as thoughtful as your lower-end selfhelp book.

Plot synopsis for future reference: Mystic makes series of wagers with the Devil. Luring punters into his 'imaginarium' the mystic, Parnassus, attempts to guide them through their imagination without them being snatched away by the temptations and traps set by his nemesis. Along the way Parnassus gains a daughter, but, as the price of one the aforementioned bargains/wagers, he must give her up to the devil on her 16th birthday. Into this little tale wanders a disgraced founder of a children's charity who, on the run from the Russian mob and claiming amnesia, joins the troupe. The devil gives the doctor a chance to save his daughter by 'saving' 5 souls in three days. In the end, the girl escapes and the Heath Ledger character (disgraced philanthopist) turns out to be a pretty terrible guy who gets hanged. Whatevs.

The end.

The Fury - Brian de Palma (1978)

A disappointing thriller from Brian de Palma. Kirk Douglas gives a thoroughly unlikable performance as a member of a secret government agency who must rebel against his masters when they attempt to kill him and kidnap his telekinetically-gifted son for all sorts of dastardly experiments. Infiltrating a seemingly benign institute for youngsters with very special gifts, Douglas convinces the pretty gifted Amy Irving to help him track down his son. Meanwhile, the son lives up to his cinematic genetic heritage by being thoroughly unlikable himself. Okay, so he is being controlled and seduced by the sexy evil lady leading the experiments being performed on him, but still, no sympathy from me that's for sure. Amy and Kirk brake into the evil compound/manor at roughly the same time as the curly-haired golden boy telekinetically bleeds, drains and spins his teacher/lover to death. Kirk, realising his son is a dangerous, insane asshole lets him fall from the rooftop before throwing himself off. Amy saves the day (I guess???) by exploding the comic-book 'big bad' (complete with 'dead' arm and accompanying black sling and glove. creepy.). ha.

The movie's one remarkable scene takes place during the blue-eyed boy's little excursion to an indoor amusement park. Spotting a gaggle of middle eastern sheik-types ("those bastards killed my dada!" - see: earlier meaningless plot detail), our little psychic hothead uses his powers to send one of the spinning rides out of control, using it as a weapon to smoosh the dirty arabs to death. Ludicrous and therefore fun.

Away We Go - Sam Mendes (2009)

Lacking in both ambition and narrative scope, Away We Go is an overly tidy little drama written by Dave Eggers and his wife and directed by Sam Mendes. Burt and Verona are a thirty-something couple unexpectedly expecting their first child. Faced with the imminent arrival of the daughter that will change their lives and the prospect that they are, in Verona's words, "fuck-ups" the down-home, hipster-ish couple set off on a cross-country journey to discover the home they'd like to raise their child in. With stops that include Miami, Montreal, Madison and Phoenix their road-trip consists of a series of vignettes in which the couple are exposed to the different parenting styles and quirks of their kooky friends and relatives. Despite some moving performances, and a few character interactions which feel very real, the movie ultimately feels like a series like a series of observations on parenting strung together in a flimsy narrative that attempts to speak, I think, to some more general condition of modern life. Touching, but ultimately unsatisfying.

Alison Janney plays an insane giantess with no personal boundaries, frankly discussing her son's "trophy" ears and her daughter's "dykiness" at a dog race - while the children being discussed are actually in earshot. These particular parents have resigned themselves to a fractured, difficult and disappointing life in a world they feel is fundamentally broken and inhospitable, albeit with some humour and grit (although that could all be Janney's performance).

Maggie Gylenhall puts in the funniest performance as a trust-fund earth mother who shuns strollers, breastfeeds any hungry child within reach and keeps a communal bed, refusing to keep her and her husband's sexual life hidden from their children. Played and directed with a heavy hand we're supposed to tut at the way privilege and material comfort are actually what enable new-age brands of parenting and family life.

An unremarkable trip to an unmemorable couple in Montreal follows. There's a loooong boring speech about love being the 'mortar' of family life that seems forced and unconvincing. Also off-key is a scene in which the wife of the aforementioned unmemorable couple takes to the stage at an amateur strip-night to indulge her feelings of anguish in the face of her fifth miscarriage and her continued inability to have children. Nevermind that they have a happy family of at least 4 adopted children. The only scene I really liked during this sequence is one that reminded me of my own childhood: Burt and Verona arrive at their friend's home and are ushered into the tv-room by one of the children with no parents in sight. Strewn across the room, the adopted children are draped and slouched over the furniture, ignorning the guests in what is essentially a benign way. Nicely obvserved. Although I think my brothers and sister and I were always a little more anxious and irritated. Still, I like.

There's an unexpected stop-off in Miami to aid Burt's newly-abandoned brother and his daughter before our anti-heroes finally end up "home" (announced by a huge, sans title similar to the others which have punctuated the movie and exaggerated its episodic nature). Home, in this case, being Verona's abandoned family house in a lush, green landscape facing the ocean. Why the heack didn't they get here earlier?!? yeah, yeah, issues.

The end.

Note: Excruciatingly bad singer-songwriter soundtrack. argh.

Added note: There's a defeatist and sometimes fatalistic tone about the movie that's slightly off-putting in retrospect. It doesn't sit that well considering Vendela's condemnation of people who think the world is fundamentally and irreparably broken near the start of the movie and it's this kind of thing which helps make the movie feel very slight and insubstantial.

Nice excerpt from the Slate review:
"The movie's peripatetic structure would feel more like a true journey if Burt and Verona didn't repeat the same experience in every place they visit. Over and over, they're confronted with a negative example of family life, a picture of what they don't want to be when they grow up: vulgar drunken sluts? Nope. Cloying New Age twits? Definitely not. When they pay an emergency visit to Burt's brother, whose wife has just abandoned him and their young daughter, Burt and Verona agree, in a whispered conversation atop a backyard trampoline, that child abandonment will not be an option. Isn't that setting the bar a bit low? Who makes moral decisions in this kind of contextless vacuum? And if Burt and Verona really are the reasonably intelligent, attractive people they seem to be, why don't they have a better assortment of friends to choose from?"

Excellent excerpt from the NY Times review:
"Really, “Away We Go” is about the flight from adulthood, from engagement, from responsibility, even as it cleverly disguises itself as a search for all those things. But the dream of being left alone in a world of your own making, far from anything sad or icky or difficult, is a child’s fantasy. Not an unattractive or uncommon one, it must be said, and for that reason it is tempting to follow Burt and Verona into the precious, hermetic paradise that awaits them at the end of the road. You know they will be happy there. But you should also understand that you are not welcome. Does it sound as if I hate this movie? Don’t be silly. But don’t be fooled. This movie does not like you."

Roger Ebert is, however, right in his appreciation of the two main characters:
"Burt and Verona are two characters rarely seen in the movies: thirtysomething, educated, healthy, self-employed, gentle, thoughtful, whimsical, not neurotic and really truly in love."

Law of Desire (1984) - Pedro Almadovar

So funny to Watch Law of Desire the night after watching Body Double. Funny, because after seeing Melanie Griffiths in a sexy, cool and interesting role - finally making it clear to me why there was any interest in her as an actress - we get to see the young Antonio Banderas in Law of Desire. Another sexy, edgy, very physical performance. A stark reminder of what time does to a person. Something to resist rather than embrace perhaps.

Plot synopsis [by me for a change]: Pablo Quintero (Eusebio Poncela) is a homo film director who meets the beautiful Antonio (Antonio Banderas) at the same bar he recently celebrated his most recent film premiere in. This is the same film premiere that sets off Antonio's obsession with Pablo (as is made clear by Antonio rushing into a bathroom cubicle at the end of the movie to re-enact the 'fuck me' masturbation scene). Antonio accompanies Pablo home where they have sex and the obsessive behaviour becomes more aparent.

Woven into this narrative is Pablo's transgender sister, Tina (Carmen Maura) and her daughter/niece Ada (whose mother is played by actual transsexual Bibí Andersen). In the film's final chapters we discover Tina engaged in a sexual relationship with her father as a young boy and that the two of them fled to Morrocco once they were discovered by Tina and Antonio's mother. Once in Morocco Dad arranges for Tina to have a sex-change before abandoning her for another woman. ha.

Increasingly determined to possess Pablo, Antonio tries to prevent any chance of a reunion between Pable and his former lover, and the man he still loves, Juan. After an attempted rape, Antonio throws Juan from a cliff to his death. Discovering that Juan is dead and that Antonio is the one responsible, Pablo drives into a tree and suffers injuries [including amnesia] which keep him hospitalised while two policeman attempt to track down Juan's killer. Finally, Pablo discovers that Tina's mysterious new boyfriend is the deranged Antonio. Taking Tina and a policeman hostage, Antonio wrangles a final hour with Pablo during which Pablo seems to fall in love with him (coz you know how romantic a bit of murder/death/kill is). Antonio kills himself after their action massage and Pablo trips over the religious alter in his apartment to get to him, setting off a large fire in the process. As the apartment goes up in flames around him, Tina and the policemen outside scale the building using some handy scaffolding in a surreal and wonderful final scene.

Best supporting role: The silky, trashy, gaudy, huuuuge Versace shirt that implicated Pablo and finally condemns Antonio.

Body Double (1984) Brian de Palma