Catching The New Wave Tide...

In as much as I like films which are dark, fantastical, a window in the mind of their creator, or even something I can lose myself in for a couple of hours... having such an imagination is something afforded to few, and the ability to capture it is even rarer still. Also, such films tend to be somewhere I can go and hide and forget about the stresses of the day They don't tend to say much about how the creator feels about the state of the world, or the political or social climate in which they're made.

I think that's why I enjoy looking at the films of the 'New Wave' so much... (or Nouvelle Vague, if we're treading across the pond). There's an immediacy and urgency to them, a desire to shout and be heard, despite a lack of, say, formal education, a privileged background, a huge budget or even bankable stars. In fact, the new wave films of the mid-20th Century reflected exactly the opposite. They were made by a generation who had grown up in the rubble and ashes of WW2, and were living through the consequences- and boy, did they have alot to say about it.

The first movement to flourish in this environment was Italian neo-realism, which reflected a guerilla style of film making at its more desperate and extreme. Recycled news film reel, soldiers as extras and literally filming on the run showed a desire to capture things how they really were that had never been seen before. Films like The Bicycle Thieves and Rome Open City caused a ripple effect throughout Europe- in France, young upstarts like Truffaut and Godard flourished with work like 400 Blows and A Bout De Souffle, while the British New Wave made an impact thanks to The Loneliness of The Long Distance Runner and Saturday Night, Sunday Morning.

Obviously there are far, far more examples, too many to list, but the point is- these films were bold and innovative, but they weren't saying anything new- not to the working classes. In a cinematic sense, yes, they were dealing with themes like poverty, unemployment, homelessness and desperation. For the disenfranchised in society, however, they were finally being portrayed in a way that didn't talk down to them. It gave them a voice in a way that they never had before. There was no fancy trickery, it was all done on a shoestring budget, with actors who didn't even look like Hollywood stars. They were real people, going through the motions of their everyday real lives.

The Loneliness of The Long Distance Runner struck a chord because it was a simple story, simply told, about a young man, Colin Smith, who can't abandon where he came from. After being banged up in Borstal, he's given every chance to redeem himself in a race against the local public school. Even the chance to show up the 'toffs' would still leave him on the side of the borstal governor- while it may be the lesser of two evils in his eyes, it's still an establishment. Running for him is an escape- he comes from a background where they run from the police, not run towards a pat on the back from bigwigs. Running is a solitary thing; it's not for prizes and it's not for bettering yourself.

It doesn't seem like a particularly bold thing to do, but it is... despite being shot with no special effects per se, there's a wonderful montage during the end of the run reflecting Colin's thoughts, of how he got to be where he is, and in trying to reform all he's really done is conform. He is representative of the generation of angry young men, and finds happiness in his own situation, rather than trying to better himself. I think it's a really compelling message- although probably not the most edge-of-your-seat stuff, it takes patience, and feels more relevant today than if I'd been watching it, at this age, ten years ago.

I think what I love most about the 'new wave' style of film making is its simplicity. There's no pretence, just a desire to show things as they really are. What's frightening is how much of a resonance I can see even now. With the country being hit so badly by recession, and literally everyone I know being affected by it in some way, could there be a need to bring back this style of film? British film making in the last decade or so has been dominated by the fluffy Richard Curtis rom-com style- notable exceptions like Shane Meadows stand out, but even so, This Is England was a reflection on times gone past- not what's happening now. Where are the voices who are going to show things as they really are? Danny Boyle's Shallow Grave and Trainspotting might have shown a cooler, edgier (albeit very 90s) side to British counter-culture were false snapshots of a surrealistic, sinister Scottish lifestyle... Ken Loach's Sweet Sixteen was as close as I've seen recently to a British 'new wave', but even he has been around since the first tide. But in terms of there being an actual movement, an upsurge in voices shouting about what they feel is wrong with this lousy and country and what's going overlooked, there's nothing... not as far as I can see.

I think there's a definite need for film making to go back to a stripped down, socially conscious way of telling stories... for all the bloated CGI of expensive flops, or the blandly smiling faces of forgettable Hollywood romcoms, there are hundreds of far more interesting stories waiting to be told- but rather than being fantastical yarns or high concepts, they're all around us. I think it might be an area I'd like to explore- after all, like I've said before I'm far more comfortable walking around with a camera than I am with one on sticks. I think it's a way of getting closer and more personally acquainted with characters, telling simple but effective stories in a way that is visceral, compelling, but most of all honest. I think that's what the industry needs- far more than any special effects-ridden eyesore.

Danse Macabre

A little obsession can be a good thing- to an extent. It's good to have something to focus on, to give us drive and motivation, to give us a reason to go out there and do things and- more importantly- achieve things. If you don't have drive to motivate you to do what you want- well then, what's the point? Some of the greatest works of art, literature and film have been born from the obsessive nature of their creators, and been all the better for it.

Then again, there is a very fine line. It's difficult to know at the time when you cross over from a passing interest, to a hobby/activity/whatever, into full-blown, all-consuming, passionate obsession at the expense of all else. The few times I've tipped over a little have had mixed results, but all have crashed and burned or fizzled out in their own time. I can't say I've ever achieved anything particularly great out of it... I can only hope my slightly-obsessive nature reaps such dividends as that of Darren Aronofsky. It's a theme that has recurred throughout all of his films disguised, at times, as love, career prowess, torment, addiction and loneliness. With his latest endeavour, Black Swan, he has truly outdone himself, his stars and any expectations I might have had about the film in the first place.

The film has been a huge international success so far. Made for $13 million, it has so far taken $171.4 million internationally (to date)- a long way from the humble successes of Pi (1998), Aronofsky's first feature after graduating from film school five years previously. I watched Pi when I was about 18, and didn't understand much of it, but I knew I loved it. It was everything I wanted to make. I followed this up quickly with Requiem For A Dream (2000). While it may have been a huge departure topically, and also not based on an original story, Aronofsky made it his own with a pulsating, urgent and somehow necessary visual style.

The Wrestler also portrayed a broken man at the end of his career, desperately lonely and trying to reconnect with a world that has cruelly rejected him. It was hailed as Mickey Rourke's big comeback (arguably I'd say this started with Marv in Sin City but hey), and I was intrigued when I read that Black Swan was intended as a 'companion piece'. I suppose it makes sense- professional wrestling sums up images of beefed-up men pumping themselves full of steroids and leaping off of turnbuckles, while ballet seemed the perfect girlie alternative- Natalie Portman's character denies herself even a lick of cake frosting and punishes herself with late-night practices that even her accompanying pianist walks out of. The drive, the desire and the isolation in trying to strive for perfection are all there. The determination and single-mindedness in trying to reach hyper-perfect physical peaks, whether it be through drugs or eating disorders, are exactly the same. The only difference is that Randy 'The Ram' Robinson is on his way out, while Nina Sayers (Portman) has just been given her first starring role.

The intensity brought to the roles by both performers was much documented but since I've watched Black Swan more recently, I'll concentrate on that. (Also, it's an excuse to buy The Wrestler and watch it again in full). There's always huge hype surrounding something that the stars have gone through such physical exertion for, or transformed themselves in some way. Natalie Portman has famously lost 20lbs for the role of fragile, broken Nina, and trained full-time as a ballet dancer too. Even this perfectly exemplifies the notion of obsession, of being perfect for a part and committing fully to the task. He performance has been lauded with awards and nominations already, and rightly so. She is magnetic as the young dancer falling apart in her quest to be perfect, to live up to the expectations of her frighteningly over-bearing mother (Barbara Hershey) and sexually loquacious director Thomas (Vincent Cassel). It says alot when even Cassel's performance isn't being hailed as the stand-out, as he's usually the best thing in anything he appears in- have I mentioned how I sat through Ocean’s Twelve just for a glimpse? OBSESSION! Portman's Nina is the perfect White Swan in the ballet of Swan Lake, but she's considered too frail, uptight and virginal for the counterpart of the Black Swan (the White Swan's evil, dark side). No matter how hard she tries she just can't let herself go- until she meets Lily (Mila Kunis). Lily is free-spirited, free of self-consciousness, and dances how she wants to. She's dark, has a tattoo, smokes and even- gasp!- eats steak. She's everything Nina is not, and everything Nina thinks that she wants to be.
The performances are all uniformly excellent and the use of handheld cameras means we can get right up close and personal with every crack in the characters' veneer. I really love Aronofsky's style; despite his fondness for handheld it never looks cheap or a substitute for fancy camera trickery. Even when the dancers are, y'know, dancing, they're never really given the huge wide shots you would think they would be afforded- it feels like we're in the performance with them, through every painful step. It's a technique that works to great effect. Even when bulimic Nina is making herself sick in a tiny toilet cubicle, we're in there too. There's nothing of her that's left to our imagination. Everything about her is laid bare, making her character even more vulnerable, not only to other characters in the film but to us too.
The obsessive attention to detail also manifests itself in things in the film. The dancers' costumes in the ballet itself are sensational; the jewel in the crown being the Black Swan's costume. It highlights the grotesque strive for perfection and the excess of the ballet, and also the final transformation for both the Swan princess and Nina herself.


Another telling sign of this is the lack of reflective surfaces. In every scene throughout the film, while Nina is still struggling to let go, there is a mirror or reflective object of some form, until she is on stage and makes the transformation. This sums up the tying up of the themes of duality and conflict throughout the film, even though the results are somewhat tragic. The ending provides a perfect conclusion to the nature of extreme obsession and striving for perfection- it can't be maintained. And here we see that there has to be some sort of balance maintained. It's the perfect note to end on and leaves a disturbingly thought provoking mark.

I was only troubled by a few minor things within the film. For one which makes such a strong point about excess and succumbing to you dark side, I never felt it was as graphic or explicit as it could have been. There were some points where I felt it could've gone further than it did, more in depth, more... generally just more weird. After all, this is from the man who gave us Jared Leto with half an arm and a delusional mother in a psychiatric ward. Still, the film is so dense that it seems like quite a trivial point to make. I do feel for a film that's so concerned with characters pushing themselves to the brink, that it could have pushed itself that little bit further.

In saying that, the film achieves such near-perfection in so many areas that it's easy to forgive any nagging personal opinions. The look, the performances, the flourish with which everything is pulled off is really something spectacular. It'll haunt you, yeah, but for me that's part of the allure. If I could only harness a fraction of the dedication and imagination which Aronofsky imbues his work with, I'd be overjoyed with what I came up with. I can only watch and try to learn- at the very least, I'll learn that things can be taken too far and not always for good! Like all of Aronosfky's work so far, this is both a complex character piece and a thought-provoking psychological drama. It leans heavy towards the 'thriller' side more than his other work, and addresses both styles without ever being too close to being either. This balance, I think, complements the themes of duality and conflict perfectly. Aronofsky's stories are always complex, dark, deeply layered and rewarding. His characters don't aim low or have small ambitions- much like the man himself.

It's Not Easy Being Green

Every once in a while, I decide to entertain myself in other ways than sitting in a dark room watching the works of people I'd like to emulate. When I was younger, I went to youth theatre for a good... oh, 6 years? I LOVED drama in school. In fact, my first application to the Academy when I was 17 was for the BA Acting course. I'd never dreamed that you could study acting, and it was all I'd ever wanted to do. Sadly, at the time (or so I remember), part of the audition involved singing and playing a piece froma musical. Singing and musical ability have never been strong points of mine, in as much as I always wanted to be good at them. I hugely admire the art of musical theatre, and before I was out of primary school I'd already seen Grease and Joseph & The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat.

Theatre going is an expensive habit though, and it fell by the wayside in recent years. When my mum suggested going to see a show in London for our birthdays, I couldn't think of any better way to spend it. The last time we were in London- also, the last time I was at the theatre, shamefully- we saw Chicago and Blood Brothers, and my mum was gunning for We Will Rock You. I love Queen, but I fancied something a bit different, and opted for Wicked. A few friends of mine who study musical theatre had said it was brilliant. In fact, even people who hadn't studied it said it was brilliant. I vaguely knew it was to do with The Wizard of Oz (my feelings on which I'd already made clear), but without that pesky Dorothy character. Like an older, risque version, a sort of superhero origin about the film's arch-villain- the Wicked Witch of the West.

I went into the theatre having decided to read nothing of the show, without even listening to any of the songs. I wanted to hear it for the first time when I was there. With Grease, I'd watched the film well over 50 times before I went anywhere near the Edinburgh Playhouse. When I saw Joseph, it was because we'd been practising the songs for our school Christmas show. I wanted to see and hear everything with this show completely unbiased, knowing nothing of what to expect. And boy, am I glad I didn't.

The first thing I noticed was the fabulous stage set-up. I'm fascinated by set design, whether it be for film, television or stage. Everywhere you looked on stage, there was some intricate little detail, tiny cogs setting up the huge overall effect. There were things to look at everywhere. The huge mechanical clockwork-type features gave me absolutely no idea of what to expect, but I was sure intrigued. Then the curtain rose and the show began...
It begins with the death of Elphaha, the Wicked Witch, and the appearance of Glinda the Good Witch to reassure the townspeople. When she is asked if she and Elphaba were friends, the story goes into flashback. We learn how a baby girl was born with green skin after her mother had a dalliance with a mysterious stranger. She is detested by her father, who sends her off to sorcery school when she's olde, along with his favourite child- the wheelchair-bound Nessa Rose. Their mother has long since passed away and Elphaha is made none more aware that she's only there to look after her sister. It's a time of great turmoil in Oz, a sort of magical holocaust, and the socially conscious Elphie is forced to bunk with social climber Galinda (or 'Glinda', as she's later known).

As it is revealed that Elphie is in posession of some pretty awesome powers, she realises that there's more to life than being a freakish outcast, beaten down for being different. Unfotunately, the world she lives in doesn't see it the same way. She and Galinda quickly become friends, however, and they go off in search of the Wizard himself- struggling with conspiracies, cover-ups and stifling social conditions at the same time.
The show is on for almost three hours, but honestly I never noticed the time drag at all. It flies by on the strength of the story alone. Given how I tried to avoid reading anything about it beforehand, I didn't even have a flip through the novel it's based on. It goes to show though, that even without the songs the story itself is enough to carry it- something which I wouldn't have imagined alot of shows like this could do.
The costumes are wonderful, and rightly so- considering the lavish production values of the film, and the fact that it's set in the magical land of Oz, they have to be something pretty special. They have to reflect the setting, and they share the same magically mechanical feel of the sets. The whole show had a very 'steampunk' feel to it, almost like the Shane Acker film '9' (not the singing, dancing Daniel Day-Lewis film Nine, ironically enough...)

And then there are the songs themselves... wow. Sometimes with musicals there can be alot of 'filler', little throwaway numbers and no real big show-stoppers. I felt this about Blood Brothers- the show was funny but there weren't any big, memorable songs. Not so with Wicked. The concluding song of the first act, Defying Gravity, made the hairs on my neck stand on end and I was mesmerised. The vocals are HUGE, but not in a 'showy' way. The cast were fantastic and never once hit a bum note. Not being up on my musical theatre, I wasn't familiar with any of the names, but I was blown away by all of them.
The songs actually served to further the story, rather than just be there because... y'know... it's a musical. There wasn't a single one which I felt dragged or hindered in any way, and as soon as I got home I liteally could not wait to listen to them again. Defying Gravity- what appears to be the signature sone from the show- is one that has had particular resonance with me the last few weeks and if it weren't for my seriously chronic vocal 'ability' I'd have been belting out the words along with it.

It's no surprise this show has won as many awards as it has, both in its run in New York and in London. It's been seen by over 2 million people, and in London alone there have been over 1,000 sold out matinees. That's not even including evening shows. A show doesn't have that kind of impact without there being something more than a little bit special about it. Even for those who don't have a particular interest in musical theatre, it HAS to be seen. I out aside my feelings about The Wizard of Oz and to be honest, completely forgot about the film. At the same time, it sets the groundwork for the film's story and skims over alot of it before tying it up neatly at the end. The problem with prequels is often the lack of suspense- if you've seen the original film, you know how a prequel will play out. You know where the characters will be at the start, and where they will end up. The genius of Wicked is that it's not only a prequel, but it goes further than that. It also runs parallel to the story of the film, and its conclusion is the same as the end of the film- but explains it further. It's alot to pack in, but like I said the time flies in. I was really disappointed when I realised it was getting near the end- I didn't want it to at all! While it's a difficult one to say "go and see", in the same way as you would a film, it's definitely a show I'd not only recommend, but insist upon other people seeing. It's huge, dazzling, unforgettable and soars above anything else I've ever seen.

Lip Dub

There's something quite incredible in watching work come together. From conception, to development, to planning and executing something, no matter what area it's in, there's nothing quite like seeing the finished product of alot of hard work.

Away back in first year, we were given the task of coming up with a collaboration between our class and TPA. It seemed like a fairly huge undertaking, especially considering how many more of TPA there were than us! I was in Murray's group when he suggested the idea of LipDub and I was immediately excited. The original idea came from a group of students in Germany who filmed themselves miming along to a song as the camera followed them around in one continuous take, showing off the students and university life.

The only stipulation was that there could be no edit points or cuts. There were a few other guidelines, like 'pick a well known song', so that everyone knew the words. It couldn't have been better timed- this year saw the 60th anniversary of the school of drama, and what better way to tell this to the world than by showing how all of the departments have come together to celebrate?

We had a few meetings between the two classes with Murray directing the whole thing and the rest of us allocated roles within production, art direction and potentially AD'ing. First of all though, we had to get the go-ahead from Adam, Andy and Ros, our respective department heads and then... THE PRINCIPAL HIMSELF. A group of us pitched it using powerpoints and a shakily-presented speech written by myself (I'm not good at public speaking) and.... it worked! Hurrah! After this came numerous production meetings to decide on a route, song, who was going to be involved, and most importantly when it was going to happen. Sadly (at the time), we couldn't get it done before the end of first year and the Big Event was postponed until last weekend.

I hadn't had much of a hand in anything to do with the LipDub since, really, there wasn't much to be done. TPA took care of costumes, props, stage setting and the all-important pyros and it looked incredible. How someone could make such fantastic costumes out of drawer liners, newspapers and broken umbrellas is beyond me. The way in which they moved the stage and reset at the drop of a hat was quite awe-inspiring and made me feel more than a little guilty at it taking me so long to learn how to de-rig a camera in record time.

The onset of some kind of stress-induced flu and an increase in shifts in work meant I missed rehearsals on Saturday, and dragged my sorry carcass to the Big Show on Sunday out the nut on cold & flu pills, determined to see the result of what we'd planned so long ago. I was hella nervous that I was going to be in trouble for missing rehearsal and that I was going to be resigned to some background role and wouldn't be a part of it at all. Worse still, I was worried I was going to be thrown headlong into some dance routine I had no clue of, and that I was going to be the one who forgot the words, stumbled over a wrong dance step, tripped, wore the wrong thing or collapsed in an exhausted fluey heap.

My fears were alleviated when I got to the Academy- yes, we had to dance, but it was with fellow classmates, and everything had been planned with total precision. We had enough rehearsals for me to pick everything up quickly enough and before long I was getting right into the spirit of it. I didn't have the hardest job. All I had to do was mime and dance. Stressing about this would have totally undermined all the hard work that the creative teams and camera crew had come up with over the past year. I even channelled my inner Black Swan in the ballet studio- albeit a clumsier, stiffer version with no dance training and only barely managing to get my leg on the bar.

The only thing I can think to compare it to was Delhi- us film types running about trying to hold our own with dancers and musical theatre types. We may have been knackered and unused to it but it was the most fun way I could have spent a Sunday afternoon in uni. The atmosphere and good mood when the pyros finally worked after a perfect take was electric- you could've felt it in the rafters. Considering we only had two attempts of the pyros, the pressure was on and we had to make every step perfect, but it came together beautifully. I was really proud of Murray and the rest of the team for managing to pull it off and- dare I say it- felt a hint of 'school spirit' in doing so. It brought out my competitive nature- ours was going to be the best, because we could make it the best. I can't wait to see the finished product... I know I'm going to cringe so hard if I catch a glimpse of myself dancing and miming like a twat to "Mr Brightside" but hey... what's the point in being embarrassed of contributing to something the world is going to see? In a similar vein as Delhi, I may have been out of my comfort zone and initially felt way over my head, but the nature of collaboration is that everyone supports each other. And I make no apologies for my none-more-white freestyling.

Urban Endings

For the last however many years, the tradition on our course has been that everyone submits a script and a couple are chosen for an end of year film. We made two last year, for which our class was divided into two groups and we were all allocated roles. On top of working on grad films and second year's end of term films, they were an incredible learning curve, and I really think that the best way to learn professional practice is to be thrown in at the deep end and be made to fend for ourselves.

This year though, things are being done a little differently. As opposed to one person getting to direct and the rest of us being given jobs accordingly, we're all getting a chance to conceive, produce and direct a two-minute short. The brief? It has to be the final two minutes of a film. Two locations at most, at least one line of dialogue, and a maximum of three characters. On paper it looks relatively simple.. In fact, no, it doesn't. Upon hearing it at first it sounds relatively simple. Now that we're being given the brief it's gone from "oh, that sounds pretty interesting!" to "OH GOD, I AM ONLY BARELY COMPETENT AT EVERYTHING ELSE NEVER MIND A SATISFYING ENDING".

Endings have always given me some trouble. I have a Shyamalamalamam-esque fondness for the good old-fashioned 'twist' ending, although I'm fully aware of how badly it can be executed. For every time I've seen a properly satisfying, conclusive yet still shocking 'twist', there are scores of clunking, obvious twists thrown in to instigate deliberate shock value- or, worse, thrown in just for the sake of a twist ending. It's especially difficult when trying to come up with an ending and THEN follow it up with a beginning and a middle.

I've chosen to do mine on one of my ideas which I'd sent to Richard. It was an idea Richard seemed to quite like and that I'd begun to develop, but was far from having an ending for. The ending is the crucial moment, the one last chance to leave your audience breathless, to make them feel like the two hours or so they've spent invested in your plot, story and characters has been worthwhile. It's the difference between a good film and a truly great, memorable work. Even ignoring the 'twist' ending, even if there isn't one, there still has to be a conclusion of some form- whether it be a cathartic one or one which leaves the audience asking questions. Since we had a mere weekend to come up with our pitches for the brief, I sent one which I'd already worked on and in my opinion it already seems kind of rushed. I've already come up with a couple more I think would be more suitable, or interesting... But in terms of applying the tactic to screenwriting in general, I think it's a valuable way of looking at things. Since endings have always been a sticking point for me, it might be something I apply to further scripts which I have to come up with... and it's always helpful to come up with new ways of writing. After all, how do you know what works for you if you don't try it? There's more than just one way to write, same as with anything really.

I'm actually really looking forward to the project, mild panic attacks and confidence taking a knock aside. In all honesty, I know I haven't been as focused on my school work as I should have been in the last couple of weeks. But something strange has come out of it... a new desire to show what I can do. Shooting someone else's script with shots and set-ups done according to their vision is one thing, but it's something else to execute a piece of work that's entirely your own. It's a chance, I think, for me to finally say: "hey! Fuck you! This is what I can do". I'm not the most proficiently technical person in the class, but I have an imagination in there somewhere. I always thought my background in studying film history and art was irrelevant after starting the course (apart from being slightly ahead in our CCS classes with Andy), but I think this could be the chance to put what I've learned to good use. It's one thing to be technically skilled, it's another to know all the theoretical and historical context of what you do, and it's a different beast altogether to tie all this together and come up with something that is entirely your own. Here's hoping this new-found determination lasts, and I can finally prove that I didn't just get into the course by sneaking in through the side door.

Happy Holidays, You Basterds

There is truly no greater joy than sharing a film you love with someone who has never seen it before- or at least there isn't for a rampant cinephile like me. Much debate has gone on over the merits of Quentin Tarantino in class (I've resigned myself to the fact that Andy and I are at a stalemate, and that one time he referred to him as 'a great director' will forever remain the most thrilling of small victories). Even I reckon that his contribution to the Grindhouse double bill was the weaker of the two, and I wasn't as huge a fan of Kill Bill in retrospect as I was at the time. Still, this is the man who gave us Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, (the criminally overlooked) Jackie Brown and, of course, wrote the story for my favourite film of all time. As well as having a hand in Sin City, From Dusk Til Dawn and True Romance. He's, like, untouchable.

When I found out about Inglourious Basterds, alot of things were running through my mind. Like, will it be good old fashioned Tarantino on form? Will it be another self-indulgent, "I really don't need the money" effort? Is it supposed to be spelled like that? Watching and re-watching the film since getting it on DVD last year.. the year before... 2009?... has only served to confirm my belief that this film is NOT Tarantino back on form, but on a compeltely new form altogether. The opening scene, in which Col. Hans Landa (Christoph Waltz) interrogates French dairy farmer Msr. LaPadite (Denis Menochet) about the Jewish family hiding under his floorboards is a gripping and unbearably tense start to what quickly chops and changes straight into Lt. Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt), aka Aldo the Apache, and his merciless band of Jewish-American soldiers known as 'the Basterds'. The difference between the two chapters is quite unreal, as is the story of Shoshanna Dreyfuss (Melanie Laurent), a cinema owner who was part of the family under Msr. LaPadite's floor- and the only survivor. Then there's the story of British officer Archie Willcox (Michael Fassbender) and his dangerous liason with German double agent Bridget Von Hammersmark (Diane Kruger)- who happens to be not only a spy for the Allied side, but the biggest movie star in Germany.

Every story, every facet of it, involves characters plotting their own form of revenge in some way. It's alot to get your head around but the culminative chapter in the cinema ties it all together and the result is a glorious mess of rewritten history. That it is divided into chapters is typically QT and helps the running time fly by, as we trangress from one story into the next and see how they all fit together. The actual scenes themselves are notably long- while they may feature fast cuts when we get to action sequences, the actual locations themselves are very few. It allows the film and its ambition to feel a bit more 'contained'.

One thing which struck me the most was the way the film looked... It shows a progression in Tarantino's work, in that it doesn't look like a Tarantino film. Shot by long-time Olver Stone collaborator and all-round genius Robert Richardson (who also shot Kill Bill 1 & 2), it looks gloriously cinematic... as obvious as that may sound... and looks fitting of its time but with a subtle hint of modernity. According to Richardson, “It’s at times playful, at times brutal, at times wildly humorous". What appealed to me is that there is nothing CG about the film- AT ALL. Given my snobbish disdain for 'fixing things in post', Inglourious Basterds was developed as a 'purely chemical film', with 'no digital intermediate'. Tarantino's insistence that nothing of the film would rely on new technology was a gamble that paid off in dividends. The scalping scenes, even the *SPOILER ALERT* huge explosion at the end, were all to be done on camera. Sadly, Richardson and Tarantino found that the digital era had seen an erosion in chemical labs sympathetic to old school styles of film making.

Still, there are instances in which the black and white footage- which had been intended to take up a much larger proportion of the film- work well. Nation's Pride, the film-within-a-film, was supposed to have been shot in the early 1940s and the stock looking footage fits its period well. The film wears its influences on its sleeve in terms of stylistic reference. Each chapter has its own unique look, which might make it sound somewhat disjointed but actually works well as its subtle enough to only enhance what we're watching, rather than distract/detract from it. The opening chapter was to have a Sergio Leone, 'once upon a time in the west' look to it. The 'French' section of the film reflects the French New Wave and mixes pulp with propaganda. Tarantino-esque nuances still find their way in too, like our introduction to German-enlisted Basterd Hugo Stiglitz.



The sound is terrible, and it cuts a few seconds off of the end, but you get the gist- it's pure Tarantino, complete with badass voiceover by Samuel L Jackson in full Jackie Brown blaxploitation mode. It's this mixture of recognisable director's traits, bold mixing of technology and things being seen through a different (and more mature) eye than his earlier works that make this film what it is. The fact that QT also used his long-time editor Sally Menke helps maintain much of his own idiosyncracies with regards to pacing and cuts etc, as well as moving his work out of the 1990s.

Of course, given our last few weeks working with actors, the performances are crucial too. Christoph Waltz is, for me, the undeniable standout of the whole thing- a smarmy, self-righteous, interminably clever, charming creep; he is frightening in that we always know that he knows something... we just don't know what. Waltz'z Oscar for Best Supporting Actor saw a triumphant air-punch from me when I watched the ceremony, and it's even more amazing given the company that he is in.
Denis Minochet as Msr. LaPadite is not someone I've seen before but he is outstanding as he breaks down in front of Landa the 'Jew Hunter' and sacrifices his old neighbours to sprae his own family. Brad Pitt is CLEARLY having a blast as Aldo the Apache, and his over the top performance never seems to far-reaching or out of place. He's the natural leader of the Basterds, and is ably supported by surprise choice Eli Roth. Control of the scene ably flits from one character to the next and, depsite feeling a little dense at times, we'd feel short-changed if it were the opposite.

This film is Tarantino all over, but not at the same time... It's as focused as Death Proof was a glorious B-movie mess; the titular characters are barely introduced singularly; the opening sequence is a 20-minute conversation... every time we think the film is going in one direction it jerks into the other. Which is pretty much typical from a director who gave us a heist movie in which we don't actually see any of the heist itself, yes? The final line, for me, summed up how I felt about the film, especially after watching it repeatedly- and it's also sneakily how I suspect Tarantino feels about the film himself. When Lt Raine is craving a Swastika into Hans Landa's forehead- his favourite punishment for those he decides to let live- he comments confidently:
"You know somethin', Utivich? I think this just might be my masterpiece"
I can't disagree with that.

A Learning Curve, And Being Way Off Course

Thank heavens for Sundays... if it weren't for them I wouldn't have any days off at all. Between classes, shoots, lugging kit, work... sometimes I feel as if I'm trying to live multiple lives at once. It's exhausting, sure, but sitting blogging while listening to some Cure is my new favourite way to reflect and such. And what a couple of weeks it's been!

We had our first classes with more new tutors in the last few weeks. First up was Zam Salim, who taught us about the principles of directing and working from a 'vision'. On our first day, we had to bring in a film which inspires us, show a scene to the class and explain what we liked about it and why. Since my film for Andy's assignment is Natural Born Killers (no eye-rolling please), I decided to show the opening scene. I really loved seeing everyone's choices... they were all so different, some I was aware of, some I'd seen, some I'd never even heard of. We also had to prepare a director's treatment to present to the class based on these films, as if they hadn't yet been made. This was really interesting- looking at what sort of things went into making up even a short scene, what things had to be taken into consideration, and how some films even get made in the first place. I especially liked kidding on to be Oliver Stone- turns out I know far more about the production of NBK than I thought I did!

Zam's classes really me with looking at films in different ways and in breaking them down, which fed into the work we're doing for Andy. Making up my director's treatment made my presentation on the Wednesday ALOT easier... well, perhaps 'easier' isn't the right word, but I had a tonne of research at least. Despite my better efforts, and attempts to drop some shifts in work, I turned up about a minute after the door was closed, even though I'd been in uni since 9am... medicating my own insomnia works for getting me to sleep, sure, but it doesn't make the waking up part any easier. In my zombie-like state I felt nothing my a sudden lurch in my stomach when I ran in behind everyone else, especially since personal-life things had been more than a bit rubbish that week and I was having severe trouble concentrating. Still, I needn't have worried too much. If anything, I'd OVER-prepared and tried to cram too much in, but after the Q&A and an email discussion with Andy, I managed to narrow down what I was going to focus on for my essay. Now to get writing! *cracks knuckles*

The following week we had classes with Peter Mackie Burns (hereafter known as PMB), with whom we learned how to work with actors. It's a strange thing, but I'd never really considered it... I mean, I knew if I were ever to direct I'd be working with actors- otherwise there's be no film- but I hadn't really thought about the practicalities of it. It reminded me alot of my days in youth theatre, looking at things like blocking and staging. Other things made me look more closely at the role of cinematographer- cheating angles and positions, framing and arranging shots in sequence that would cut easily, rather than just shooting a bunch of pretty individual shots. We had two classes in which we read over a script (the one we were going to shoot scenes from) and then the next week was all about rehearsing. Some scheduling conflicts meant I went from 3 shoots to FIVE... three assisting and two as Director of Photography/'focus wrangler'. Camera assisting was easy-peasy... mostly it involved marking up tapes, recording timecodes, holding a reflector at odd angles (thank you, residual Delhi training) and singing to the camera so it didn't feel frightened at being outside in the cold.

It also involved alot of sitting and waiting... something which a DoP or camera op certainly never gets to do. On Tuesday, I found out that Paul- who was originally meant to be directing, who I had rehearsed with and everything- was ill, and had been replaced by Dilara. Which meant there was no time for rehearsals and we had to be there an hour earlier than intended. Also, while I do enjoy a nice frame and a pretty picture, I have ALOT to revise on lenses, lights, filters and all the other little technical bits that go with putting together a shot. At one point in the afternoon my arm actually broke out into a rash and looked as though it had been clawed at by a mountain lion. We had no end of trouble with outside light too, especially as we didn't have any... y'know... other lights. Still, we eventually wrapped and me, my migraine and my half-gnawed arm shuffled home for a little sleep.

Thursday involved camera assisting again twice, once for Murdo and again for Gavin. The lousy tornado weather didn't help matters any but everything seemed to run smoothly and thankfully the day didn't feel as heinously long as anticipated. Friday, however, was my second shot at DoP'ing and again the memory blanks and standing feeling like a proper lemon not knowing the answers to any questions came back in spades. Once shooting started I was fine though- and even managed to help solve a tricky problem of cheating 'being in a cupboard'. (hint- thank you again Delhi training for my shoulders of steel). I really love the look of a handheld - or shoulder mounted- camera, and I find it far easier to follow actors' expressions and movements when I don't have a pesky tripod in the way. It helped that the whole week was a learning curve for the actors too, so we all felt a little bit out of our depths.

Overall then, an exhausting week, one in which I didn't see much of my bed and ended it looking like an extra from The Walking Dead. Still, the shoots all ran on time, we managed to pull everything together despite difficulties in pretty much every area and we came out of it still close as ever. AND in getting involved with the actors, managed to branch out into other areas of the Academy too. I've spent the last couple of days indulging in lie-ins, y'know, just because I can... I like to think I'm storing my energy up for the next round. I'm really looking forward to adapting what I've learned into the Urban Endings brief. Hopefully my obscure angles and ridiculous attempts at timecode from the Photoboard shoot will have resolved themselves too...?