Into the Wild (2007)

Written and directed by Sean Penn

From the book by Jon Krakauer

***** 

A raw, inspiring and ultimately tragic true story, sensitively adapted for the screen, beautifully shot and accented with haunting original songs, Into the Wild was the hit of the festival circuit the year of its release.

Pieces of story are puzzled together to focus on Christopher Johnson McCandless, a bright young graduate of a prestigious university, the toast of his parents and adored by his younger sister. Troubled under his pretence of normality, Chris pulls a disappearing act, shucking off the constraints of society and hitting the road in search of the greater meaning of life.

Travelling through beautiful landscapes, placed in front of the viewer like canvases, Emile Hirsch plays livewire Chris thoughtfully and with great energy. A mix of profundity and young man’s egotism, Chris chooses the alias Alexander Supertramp and journeys where the mood takes him. He tests himself against the elements and new experiences, aiming to see and taste all he can. People are incidental to his journey, and although he had a deep impact on many of the characters he met, he was always able to separate himself from them in pursuit of something larger.

Poetically narrated from both the perspective of Chris, the escapee, and his sister Carine (Jena Malone,) representing those he left behind, the film delves into the ways people make sense of life. The two story strands weave together, making piercing observations so startling they seem the most extreme truth and clearest message we’ve ever heard.

Carried along on Chris’s journey, we glory in the outdoors as he does, and an episode stopping off in LA helps us understand him – after the wide open spaces, free from constraint, the city feels like a trap, the fake smiling faces of its willing prisoners reminding him of his need to escape. Alaska becomes his ultimate goal, and when he enters the wilds and makes his final discoveries we are happy for him, and though touched, can almost forget to be concerned.

Into the Wild is a magnificent watch, concentrated without being heavily laid out, an astounding debut from the always introspective Sean Penn. Eddie Veder’s songs perfectly tap into the themes of the story, and the glorious photography of incredible locations transport us the rest of the way. Highly recommended.

Trainspotting (1996)

Directed by Danny Boyle

Written by John Hodge

From the novel by Irvine Welsh

Seen on DVD

***

Occasionally a film becomes so part of popular consciousness it defines the decade for those of the relevant age. Trainspotting was that seminal film for those of us leaving high school in the late nineties. Although we were too young to catch it on first release, having seen it gave you instant street-cred, and the poster on your wall was a marker of edgy cool.

A grungy film about drug addicts, with a legendary gross-out toilet scene? I wasn’t really interested, except for the hype - if that many people were talking about it, it was a film that had to be seen sooner or later. Obviously, I chose later. Coming across it on the comedy shelf of the DVD store fourteen years after its release finally made me give it a go.

Mark Renton is a wiry, shaven-headed young heroin addict, with a disparate bunch of mates, most also hooked on various drugs. Following Renton through several attempts to get clean, it becomes apparent his slips are caused by the bizarre code of honour binding him to his so-called friends. Even when seeing them for what they really are, he’s drawn back in, unable to shake his obligations to them.

This sense of honour makes Renton’s journey interesting, but it also makes his eventual break from the group more shocking. Although cheering for him to “choose life,” as the film’s tagline goes, his traitorous turn leaves me questioning whether he has really triumphed. Having kicked the habit, and his friends, has Renton really become a better person? Was his characteristic loyalty the price he had to pay, and what sort of person is he going to make without it?

This central, intriguing point is in part supported by the realistically sad stories which affect Renton: the straight friend getting sucked in and consumed by drugs, the tragic baby, the squalor, and the measures everyone must take to ensure constant supply of their drug – but somehow the circus of activity, comic filthiness, and humorous tirades make the important points incidental nuance rather than the focus of the story. This is essential if trying to brand an urban horror tale a comedy, and Danny Boyle’s creative, fast-paced direction and fantastic soundtrack choice show his intention to entertain rather than reflect.

A spectacular performance as Renton catapulted Ewan McGregor into stardom. Robert Carlyle is often singled out from the rest of the group for his portrayal of the psychotic Begbie, and he certainly had fun with the rich stories his over-the-top character wielded. As an ensemble the gang have deservedly gone down in history, and the movie remains a defining moment in British film.

Trainspotting was not McGregor and Boyle’s first movie together, it was just the one that made them famous. Just starting out in their careers, two years earlier McGregor acted in Boyle’s Shallow Grave. A twisted little thriller, it managed to just miss the mark in some indefinable way, but it’s an excellent watch.

Holiday Inn (1942)

Directed by Mark Sandrich
Written by Claude Binyon, Elmer Rice
With music and lyrics by Irving Berlin

Seen on DVD

** 1/2

Holiday Inn has its place in film canon, but the film itself doesn’t merit it. It’s fluff, and not even particularly good fluff, compared to the stellar offerings of the period. Trivial and lacking in heart, the story barely hangs together, and though it’s dripping with supposedly charming situations, they are unconvincing and the characters unlovable.

Normally sparkling Fred Astaire plays Ted Hanover, dancer extraordinaire and show biz partner of singer Jim Hardy, (Bing Crosby.) The two are in constant competition to prove more talented and a bigger hit with the ladies. Ted settles it, and causes their break-up, by winning the affections of their co-star from under her fiancée Jim’s nose, and Jim bows out of show business for a quiet rural life.

Finding farm work tougher than anticipated, Jim launches an inn with a gimmick: it will open only on holidays, and feature musical performances themed for the occasion. Rapidly falling in love with Linda, his shop-girl-turned-hostess collaborator, Jim looks set: until Ted turns up, single again, and (surprise!) discovers Linda is his perfect partner as well. In a blink the two are up to their old tricks, each trying to win her as their partner on stage – and in life.

By unplugging your brain, it’s possible to find Holiday Inn entertaining, but it can’t be called inoffensive. We are expected to believe any and all women must fall head over heels for two men who care more about their game of one-up-man-ship than they do about the woman they profess to love. Crosby and Astaire walk through their roles, coming alive only when performing - Astaire's solo tap-dance is a real cracker. The female characters are passed around, treated as possessions to be won or lost, barely granted their own free will, and neither they nor the men so in love with them show the slightest sign of real passion.

There’s also a number done in blackface, ostensibly necessary to the plot for reasons of disguise. Although cringe-making these days, such performances were common in at the time, and the scene’s recent removal from American television broadcasts of the film has caused much debate.

In spite of its many failings, Holiday Inn is a remarkable piece of history, for the music which inspired it and the trivia surrounding it. The film includes a strange little insert of patriotism and munitions factories, which doesn’t mesh at all until you realise Pearl Harbour was attacked when the picture was filming and overnight, America stepped into World War II. The film's name lives on in the small hotel chain which became a global empire, but perhaps its most lasting legacy is one little song, overlooked on first release, which won the Oscar for Best Original Song in 1942, and went on to become the best selling single of all time: “White Christmas.”


If you’re after exceptional musical comedy, check out Fred and Ginger setting the stage afire in Top Hat, instead. Lighter than air, it’s a farcical case of mistaken identity and true love filled with magnificent dance numbers and brilliant performances from a star-studded cast.

3:10 to Yuma (2007)

Directed by James Mangold
Written by Halstead Welles, Michael Brandt & Derek Haas

Seen on DVD

*** 1/2

Although the perpetual Hollywood craze for rehashing past favourites annoys me, for some reason I couldn’t pass this one up. It may have been the cast: the leading men have each had their share of temper-related tabloid scandals, but they are known for explosive performances on-screen as well as off. Discovering the filmmakers put up their own financing, because studio-land was of the opinion the western had flatlined, made me curious: why was this story so worth re-telling?

The Western is a distinctly American genre, tying in to the legend of the Wild West, the birth of nationhood and the beginning of the American Dream. 3:10 to Yuma is a brilliant exploration of the myth, juxtaposed with a well-rendered depiction of life at the time. Sure, it was an age of larger-than-life heroes and outlaws in a strange, vast landscape – but it was also an era of back-breaking work for the tiny, isolated groups of settlers strung out across the countryside, quite literally trying to scratch a living.

Quiet, crippled rancher Dan Evans, ridden roughshod by the local tycoon, is a man so defeated his eldest son despises him. Yet somehow he remains standing; keeps fighting for his farm, his wife and his sons. Christian Bale fully inhabits the character, portraying Dan as a man of integrity in the face of severe degradation.

In contrast, outlaw Ben Wade bends to no-one. Russell Crowe makes a delightfully charming cold-blooded killer. Nothing worries him, not even the deaths of his own men – and he seems in control of every situation, even after he’s caught red-handed.

When Dan steps forward to help escort the criminal to justice, he’s hoping to earn enough to pay off some debt – but instead, he’s quite literally travelling into Contention. It’s the town where the titular train departs for Yuma prison, but also the signposted opportunity for Dan to prove himself and finally become the central figure in his own legend.

Fittingly, it’s a tough ride getting there. Fighting off Indians, a posse of railroad staff with a vendetta, Wade’s gang, mobs of crazed townsfolk, and Wade himself, Dan’s journey is both physical test and battle of wills with a master manipulator.

As demanded by the genre, a variety of colourful characters back up the drama. All bases are covered: an annoying goon, loveable sidekick and an uptight money-man stand out, as does Peter Fonda, key among them as the grizzled guard determined to bring Wade to justice. Ben Foster terrifies as Charlie Prince, Wade’s ferocious, fiercely loyal right-hand man.

The rollickingly good score promises plenty of action, but drips with tension where needed. Shot on location, the film is beautiful, but director Mangold has astutely concentrated on the performances rather than allowing the stunning terrain to take over. The result is a fast-paced, intense story which the landscape affects but doesn’t control.

With no character morally sound enough to really be called a white-hat, the film inspires lively debate about intentions, morals, and man’s interpretation of religion. Much has been made of the ending, which differs greatly from the original film, but which I thought provocatively clever – the catch being that no matter what Dan does, he can’t win. Just getting Wade on the train isn’t justice, even if he can get him there, and they both know it.

Unfortunately for a film based on smarts and thought-provoking questions, it falls down logically. A elderly man with a severe abdominal wound, operated on with unsterilised, barbaric equipment and no anaesthesia, cannot believably be galloping across the country hours later, no matter how gruffly he asserts “ain’t the first time I’ve been shot.” I’m likewise unable to buy that a crack shot on a determined rescue mission can’t hit an exhausted one-legged man running ahead of him, or that the thirty-odd other desperate shooters will also miss. Such lapses might be part and parcel of a generic cowboy tale, but here it’s a let down, souring an otherwise extraordinarily good modern western.


Hooked on tales of the Wild West? The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is a brilliant examination of the arrival of law and order, amidst nostalgia for the heroic myth. A masterpiece from John Ford, prolific in the genre and one of the greatest American directors to boot.

The Godfather (1972)

Directed by Francis Ford Coppola
Written by Mario Puzo & Francis Ford Coppola

Seen on DVD

*** 1/2

There are movies in film-buff canon so important that you just can’t be taken seriously if you’ve not seen them. Near the top of every cinephile’s best-of-American list is the one with the horse’s head, and an offer you can’t refuse – parodied, referenced and reverenced in all forms of media, by common consensus, The Godfather is THE mobster movie.

How I made it to the thirtieth year of my life without ever having seen it is rather a mystery, and after twenty nine years of build up I put the DVD in with some trepidation.

It's an epic, a classic.

But I didn’t really rate it.

Don’t get me wrong – the film is an Oscar winner, and deservedly so. The heavy score was gorgeous. The cinematographer achieved a perfectly mixed romantic noir look, setting the tone for a grand tale grounded in gangland intrigue: the descent (or rise, depending on how you look at it) of Michael Corleone, the straight-laced young war hero from one of the New York Mafia’s five families.

Michael is the “good” son, not meant for the family business, and purposefully kept on the outer - but each choice he makes takes him further in, his calm, quiet character slowly picking up the reigns and steering the family fortunes. The young Al Pacino, now film legend in his own right, became a star in this role. He’s magnetic, drawing the eye in every scene.

Marlon Brando received accolades as the stone-faced Don, building a complete character and flawlessly modulating his performance from robust ruler to invalid no longer fit to lead. The often-lampooned voice he created was beautifully kept up, and cleverly adapted to thin tones of ill-health, yet at times he still struck me as a posing caricature.

Several scenes were so well constructed they still haunt me. The almost dreamlike hit on Paulie, amid golden fields of waving grass, the Statue of Liberty just visible in the background. And the nightmarish hospital visit, Michael wandering alone through the empty corridors, tension rising as he realises all his father’s men are gone and the Don is alone and unguarded.

As a pivotal scene for the central character, this was beautiful - the strong feeling of impending doom, and Michael’s first panicked response giving way to quiet command of the situation, the first real indication that he’s a dangerous man. The relief tendered when he has successfully moved his father is immediately punctured with his oath: he’s in, despite his own intentions and even the efforts of the Family.

Michael’s development over the film was mesmerising. From naive young man, lauded by conventional society and repelled by his family’s business, he has become a cold, calculating killer, baptised as leader during the horrific intercut of family christening and hits on his enemies. The last scene, in which he is able to lie to Kay with a straight face, then with equal lack of emotion accept the fealty of his father’s men, is chilling.

But the film was over-long, and I found it over-complicated. Perhaps because I got some characters mixed up with each other, which meant I couldn’t keep the story straight. Or perhaps because of the sudden jumps in time, especially towards the end, with no indication that it had happened until confronted with a line like “I’ve been back a year. Longer than that, I think,” or the sudden, out-of-the-blue existence of a three year old child.

I also fell into a few plot-holes. To a certain extent, when watching a film, you have to accept that some things are going to happen which you may not understand, but which are an essential part of moving the story or characters on. Several times during the Godfather I found myself unable to allow these moments, and was yanked out of the story, completely unable to believe that a decision or action taken was vital, and thinking less of the characters and the film because of it.

At this stage, it’s not a film I’ll be adding to my collection. I do feel a slight sense of loss about that – expectations certainly not exceeded – but the mythos has caught me. I am already contemplating the possibility of a re-watch helping me understand the story better…

But first I am looking forward to continuing the story, and following Michael’s fortunes with the only sequel to a AMPAS Best Picture winner also to have received the Oscar. There’s got to be something in that!


Love the epic, romanticised period view of the American mafia in The Godfather? Try watching Gomorrah for a so-real-you-might-faint view. Set in the seedy underbelly of modern day Naples, the Italian mob’s reach and control is mind-boggling, messy and utterly terrifying.