Television killed the Film Star

Back in the day, whatever day that was, a film was enough. We’d go into the cinema, sit down in their painfully upright seats, unpeel our feet from the sticky floors which know not the meaning of the word ‘mop’, and enjoy a couple of hours of storytelling, pure and simple. There was something special about film which stole our attention, as if entering into that dark room was akin to walking into the world of fantasy which the film was capturing. Talk to your parents (or indeed, if you are parents, then talk to yourself), and they will fondly reminisce about the 4 cinema trips a year, if that, and how the ‘pictures’ was a special treat for them. So what happened? What do I mean ‘what happened’? Well, it seems, and I may be wrong, but that the little brother of the cinema, formerly known as the television, has perhaps stolen this magic, and crowned its ‘TV series’ in place of the film. So what happened?

The first formal rise of television from popularity to global superstardom can be recognized in the advent of the boxset. Formerly having to wait a week or so for the next episode of your favourite TV show this meant you could now watch the whole series on demand, without a care in the world (other than the prospect of wasting away hours of your life in a comatose slumber in a darkened room in front of the blinking television). The boxset meant we could avoid the annoying ‘next week on [insert TV show here]’, instead fast-forwarding through the week and arriving at the next episode instantly. Most importantly, however, it meant we could never miss a thing: we could start a series when we wanted, regardless of whether we had even been born when the programme was first aired. My childhood was forever changed when one birthday brought me the first 7 or so series of The Simpsons, a gift which resulted in the disappearance of about a week of my life. As I grew up, the dripfeed was changed into 90s comedy gold such as I’m Alan Partridge and The Day Today, an attempt by my father to inject his same sense of humour into my brother and I. What it meant, however, was that this TV gold wasn’t lost in the vaults of television history, but was again accessible and rewatchable forever more.

The internet has added to this increased dominance by the television, allowing viewers to access all these beautiful things from the comfort of their own laptop, and perhaps more importantly to many, for free. It would be argued that for many programmes, the internet was in fact their saving grace, allowing many things to receive a wider audience than it might have otherwise gained. Game of Thrones started on the exclusive Sky Atlantic, but quickly gained notoriety for being largely accessible online, and the third season in fact became the highest watched series of all time, on account of the ridiculously large online audience. Breaking Bad, a personal fave, the mindblowing tale of an average Joe’s descent into evil, picked up extraordinary speed online, particularly through its cooperation with online viewing site Netflix, most notably when the final series was released simultaneously on TV and online: this perhaps being a thank-you, or at least a ‘shout out’ to the online viewership which made this programme so popular. More groundbreaking a phenomenon, however, has been the arrival of programmes made specifically for the world wide web: Netflix has dominated the market with critically acclaimed shows such as House of Cards, American Horror Story, Lilyhammer (a spinoff from the box-set success story The Sopranos), and the long awaited fourth series of cult-comedy Arrested Development. The latter, the hilarious series from the early 2000s which launched the careers of Jason Bateman and Michael Cera, among others, was cancelled midway through the third series: an online launch, therefore, of the fourth series preventing any such risk, releasing all episodes simultaneously and ensuring that no further investment was at risk by screening the entire series. A win-win situation for all.

Perhaps most intriguing, however, in this seamless transition is the production of a sequel in the format: it would seem that television is providing a more steady and stable platform for directors and their ideas beyond the original concept. 90s Coen Brothers crime-noir Fargo has recently found itself a television sequel, in the imaginatively named Fargo: at the time of writing the first episode has just been aired, and is, I assure, worthy of the name, while not meaninglessly cashing in on the concept of the successful original. Man of the moment Benedict Cumberbatch struggled at first with the film format, and came into his own on the superbly produced Sherlock, supremely outclassing its cinematic contemporaries a la Guy Ritchie, and perfectly fitting the three episode mini-series in which it has arrived thrice. TV smash hit Breaking Bad has ditched the idea of a film remake/spin-off, favouring instead the recently penned Better Call Saul, a prequel focusing on the eponymous lawyer from BB, and how he became embroiled in Walter White’s drug empire. It seems, therefore, that the future, too, lies in film.

It would appear that film is perhaps no longer enough. We wait a few years for a film to come out, only with the common occurrence that it disappoints or misses the main points of the book/source material. With TV, we are promised three things: the immense plethora of episodes means that it is simply hard to disappoint, almost guaranteeing something for everyone; it allows for proper character arcs to be fulfilled, rather than rushing out a cheesy storyline in the 2 hour running time a film can offer; and it means we can never miss a thing, with the boxset, the internet, and digital functions such as Sky Plus or Virgin media ensuring that everything is on demand at our fingertips. Film is by no means dead – rest assured, this blog is still very much a film blog – but the future is very much in the hands of television, and by god is it looking good.

Under the Skin: A Review

I promised myself that I wouldn’t do reviews: anyone and everyone can do reviews, and they so rarely offer any insight into the film itself, but simply just another set of stars to attach to the poster, or another ten reasons why this film isn’t ‘fun for all the family’. But once in a while, a film comes along which warrants this 1000 odd words of praise, a film which stands out among the rest, and I have to say that film this year is Under the Skin.

Jonathan Glazer’s third film (after Birth and Sexy Beast) is a truly unique, mindblowing, and utterly thrilling piece of filmmaking which has blown me out of the water. A science fiction thriller, based on the cult novel by Michael Faber, based in Scotland isn’t necessarily the most recognizable film trope, but one which proves its worth tenfold. The film benefits form a successful two act form, divided between the urban turmoil of Glasgow, and the relative harmony of the Scottish highlands. The first act finds us in the most innovative and thrilling segments of the film: we join the recently landed extra-terrestrial as she trawls the streets of Glasgow looking for lone males to lure in, seduce, and eventually harvest for their flesh (a process which isn’t explicitly explained but can be worked out). Through the use of hidden cameras and an extremely confident Johansson, Glazer and co managed to entice random members of the public into the white van: a tiresome procedure, I can imagine, but one received well by the more cocksure alpha males who perhaps fancied their chances. The second act contrasts, as the alien escapes from her motorbike mentor (an enigmatic character to say the least) to the Scottish highlands, where she witnesses both heights of human kindness, and the horrors of human lust and desire. The film benefits well from this change of pace, with a smooth transition from urban to rural ensuring that the film doesn’t become monotonous, particularly with the introduction of new themes.

At the centre of the show, we find an almost unrecognizable Scarlett Johansson, the beautiful Hollywood actress hidden underneath cheap make-up and a jet black wig, which renders her almost anonymous among the scenes of Glasgow’s main shopping precincts. The stone-cold Johansson is utterly compelling and eternally watchable, a resolve which is intensely satisfying considering she remains in the camera frame for almost the entire film. The actress has shown her worth beforehand, both as the loveable ‘girl next door’ in Lost in Translation, and more recently lending her delightful tones to the operating system in Her: in Under the Skin, however, she is unrivalled. Consistently convincing as an alien hidden behind the false visage of the human body, Johansson has mastered the emotionless stare, as if nothing lay behind those big wide eyes. In the seduction scenes, she successfully conveys the animalistic desire for flesh, staring down the prey with the same cold eyes, seeing not a human but rather a target. Most shocking is her unflinching gaze upon a terrifying beach scene, as a man and his wife both get swept out to sea, as she pounces on the Czech tourist who attempts to save them: as she drags away the body, the cries of the baby left behind fill the screen, while Johansson’s emptiness appears nothing but oblivious to this ultimate state of fear of abandonment.

Most impressive about Johansson’s performance, however, is the gradual transition towards empathy, a trait which appears more and more towards the second half: after luring in a grossly deformed man, she appears to take pity on his sense of loneliness and isolation, allowing him to leave the lair unharmed. Her journey into the Highlands, furthermore finds her drawn in by an incredible hospitable Samaritan: we gradually see her affection towards him, as her curiosity with the human race, as well as the contours and features of her own naked body, grows. Essentially, however, she is reminded of the fact that she is not human, and does not belong here: she spits out food in disgust, and jumps away hastily mid-sex. Her ultimate demise is that she finds love for the human people, but can never truly be one, and it is this tragedy which Johansson so effectively carries throughout her performance.

The comparisons to other directing greats has been drawn from all angles: heralded as the ‘heir to Kubrick’, using the same unflinching cinematography and slow movement as the 2001 director. The opening three minutes of space, psychedelic colour, and transformation evoke the ‘acid trip’ finale of 2001: A Space Odyssey, while the use of monochromatic reflective surfaces, especially in the alien’s lair, remind us of the space age technology first imagined by Kubrick. The Observer film critic Mark Kermode draws the inspiration from Nicolas Roeg, in particular his Man Who Fell to Earth, citing the same tale of stranger in a strange land gradually finding solace among the human people, a weakness which eventually proves to be his downfall. To draw these comparisons, however, I feel would be inaccurate, and perhaps even unfair. Glazer here has carved his own style: too real to be Kubrick, and too convincing to be Roeg, Glazer manages to toe the line between reality and fantasy without ever falling too deeply into both. Accompanying the eery visuals is Mica Levi’s chilling score: an immensely powerful exposition, the scratching of strings and trembling of keys unsettling throughout, interwoven perfectly with the imagery on screen.

Glazer’s film is by no means an Oscar-winning film: one can assume he deliberately brought it out at this time to avoid the whole annoyance of Oscar punditry and prediction. It is, however, a piece of art and science in itself: a powerful exposition of stunningly crafted camerawork, a phenomenal central performance, and a fascinating insight into human nature and experience, and the true meaning of what it is to be a stranger.

Fade to Black and White

A worldwide phenomenon of retro-ism is having its effect in all spheres of the media. Bands have begun to shun the digital revolution, releasing and rereleasing albums on the more crackly vinyl. The VHS tape is making a comeback, if not minimal, notably through the apt release of the film ‘V/H/S’ on the clunky format. I mean, walk along the street and stare at people’s feet: Doc Martens and Converses galore adorn the feet of the backward-looking youth, as if we’ve all just jumped in a DeLorean and gunned it to 88 miles an hour. It seems a taste for the finer, simpler things in life has been rediscovered, a backlash to the over-digitalisation of our every day life: we can’t spend five minutes without staring at the brightly lit colours of our laptops or our smart phones. Even in the cinema, we can’t sit in peace for an hour or two without gleaming explosions and Tom Cruise’s fluorescent orange skin being thrust in our face. To no surpise, and certainly in keeping with the retro phenomenon, we have seen a considerable fade to black and white.

By this, I of course refer to the return of the basic, original format of cinema, absent in colour and packed to the brim with good old fashioned shadow and contrast. The reappearance of something simpler, something fresher, something cleaner. The popularity of the post-colour B&W stretches back to the seventies, at a time when colour was a new found concept, bringing much needed excitement and vigour to the dying cinema industry. People were, unsurprisingly, bored with staring at the same old grey screens every time they went to the pictures: colour injected a new life, as cinemagoers had a Dorothy-esque experience, opening the door and finding themselves in a world of magical colour only found previously in post-conversion or in Disney’s animations. Among all this excitement, David Lynch found himself with two terrifying projects, and an ambition to stick by the old format: what was produced was the bone-chilling Eraserhead and the magnificent The Elephant Man, both complemented considerably by Lynch’s use of shadows and contrast, hiding the unknown in the darkness and producing a whole new kind of fear.

Ever since, directors have tentatively tried their hand at the colourless, producing surprisingly fascinating (and fantastic) results: ranging from the completely colourless, such as Kevin Smith’s cult classic Clerks and Tim Burton’s bizarre debut Ed Wood, to the B&W tinged with the odd bit of colours, such as noir-homage Sin City and the gutpunching Schindler’s List, its momentary flash of colour producing one of the most heartwrenching moments of Spielberg’s holocaust tragedy. Over the past few years, the output has rocketed, following the success of the Oscar winning The Artist: director Michel Hazanavicius showed exactly what we were missing about cinema, leaving out cheap dialogue and flashy action scenes, bringing to us a (near) speechless comedy relying on fantastic acting, courageous cinematography, and a riveting score.

What is it about the Black and White that keeps drawing us back? Firstly, simplicity. Flashy 3D and brightly colour animation so often leaves the audience under-satisfied and nursing the mother of all headaches; the soothing aesthetics of a B&W is unusually satisfying, its simplicity speaking volumes for what some colour films will never do. The sad tale of George Valentin in The Artist is told all the more successfully by ditching other flashy elements and focusing purely on the acting prowess of Jean Dujardin (a role he also won an Oscar for). Secondly, beauty. Wading through the trashy, off-hand cinematography of current blockbusters, B&W auteurs use the format to paint a picture, focusing their effort on understanding what is coming out of the camera, and making sure every shot the make is interesting enough to hold the viewers attention. Alexander Payne’s recent Nebraska showed how the film is an art form, each frame a painting and telling its own story behind the central characters. The Black and White is loved for the reason that it brings back what we love about films: the story and the image in its rawest forms, untainted by colour and eye-aching imagery.

To predict that the Black and White was going to replace the colour would be absurd: I would be lying if I said colour is still a fantastic format when used correctly, in the same way that a CD can be as equally enjoyable as its vinyl counterpart. And how can we be sure how long this retro ‘phase’ will last: perhaps we’ll sober up one day and realize that actually 80s fashion does still belong in the 80s, and will send it back were it came from. In my heart, however, I will always have a place for the old format, a remnant of the golden age of cinematic storytelling: perhaps what we all need, after all, is a fade to black and white.

Quick Top 5: Best Recent B&W Films.

5. Frances Ha (2012)

Kookiness hits epic volumes in Noah Baumbach’s delightful Woody Allen homage, starring his wife Greta Gerwig as the out-of-luck titular heroine.

4. A Field in England (2013)

Up-and-coming Ben Wheatley produces one of the most visually stunning and confusing films in years: a surreal shrooms trip set in the middle of the English Civil War.

3. Nebraska (2013)

Black and White never gets better than in this Oscar-nominee, a touching relationship of father and son set against the bleak but beautiful setting of the Mid-Western state.

2. Much Ado About Nothing (2013)

Joss Whedon abandons colour and goes back to basics following his eye-popping efforts in Avengers Assemble: invites his friends round, throws some Shakespeare at them, films in black and white. Brilliant.

1. Clerks (1994)

The original slacker comedy, Clerks finds two bored store assistants wasting the day away with some side-splitting dialogue, the simplicity captured perfectly in Kevin Smith’s black and white, stationary cinematography.

And the Winner Is...

Here it is then. The most clichéd moment in a film buff’s year. That ever glorious moment for said buff to pretend he knows enough about film from the past year, simultaneously waxing lyrical about the next best thing while also complaining incessantly about the endless faults of the Academy. And of course all the while massaging his own ego knowing that he has perhaps got these predictions right. So here’s how it works: I’ve laid up who I think should win, while also hazarding an uneasy guess at who’ll probably actually win – because obviously the Academy will always get it wrong. And come this Sunday, perhaps I’ll be just a little bit smugger.

Best Picture

The main category this year is something of a plethora of delights. We’ve got sci-fi romance (Her), crime comedy (American Hustle), space thriller (Gravity), historical tear-jerker (12 Years a Slave), and even black and white road trip (Nebraska), but to name a few. The early favourite emerged as Gravity back in October, when the thrilling two minute trailer grabbed our attention by the throat, along with a welcome appearance from all-round good guy George Clooney. But the prize this year belongs in one place and one place only: to say 12 Years a Slave is enjoyable would be inaccurate, in fact it is quite the opposite. Two hours of some of the hardest hitting drama since Schindler’s List already marks this out as a modern classic, and is certainly the movie event of the year, if not the decade. The nuanced camera work and the bold score makes this film a clear winner, and certainly a clear favourite for awards night. Who cares if Gravity was in 3D?

Should Win: 12 Years a Slave

Will Win: 12 Years a Slave

Best Director

What some would call a bizarre category, on account of the relatively frequent occurrence of the mismatch between Best Picture and Director winners. Alexander Payne, despite the heartwarming Nebraska, has a snowball’s chance in hell, while it would be an understatement to say that Scorsese isn’t on best terms with the Academy: his Oscar for The Departed, it seems, is enough to keep him satisfied for the time being. David O.Russell is on as good a form as any, but when is he not, with his past two features also earning him Director and Picture nods. As with the BP category, however, this is really a two-horse race. Steve McQueen, making a remarkable transition from visual artist to director with two fantastic efforts in the form of Hunger and Shame, is certainly due this one: his commitment to 12 Years is on ‘passion project’ proportions. Cuaron, however, has done the undoable with making a Sci-Fi film accessible for non-geeks and geeks alike, turning a survival drama into a space flick of epic proportions. The four year production period, too, makes this a commendable effort, and one he will surely win for.

Should Win: Steve McQueen (12 Years A Slave)

Will Win: Alfonso Cuaron (Gravity)

Best Actor

An immensely close one to call here. Poor old Leo has found himself again in a particularly tricky field of competitors: after being snubbed for The Aviator, Blood Diamond, Shutter Island, Django Unchained, etc, this is an award long long overdue. His portrayal of capitalism personified in Jordan Belfort is nothing short of a dramatic and comedic delight in equal measure. But my vote, based on the performance at hand, goes to Ejiofor: a long time support player, now promoted to the big time in McQueen’s slave drama. His performance is one of genuine tragedy (in the traditional sense), at its saddest when singing ‘Roll Jordan Roll’ at the funeral of another slave, and at its highest when being reunited with his family after the eponymous ’12 Years’ absence. The Academy, unfortunately, love the underdog, and Matthew McConaughey is the great dane of underdogs: his metamorphosis from rom-com pretty boy to ac-tor is phenomenal, and he has certainly been rewarded here for scene-stealing support roles in Killer Joe and The Wolf of Wall Street. McConaughey’s performance as AIDS victim Ron Woodruff ticks all the Academy boxes – triumph over adversity, fighting the Man, etc. Don’t get me wrong, McConaughey one hundred percent deserves this, but it would have been nice for Ejiofor to get a look in.

Should Win: Chiwetel Ejiofor (12 Years a Slave)

Will Win: Matthew McConaughey (Dallas Buyers Club)

Best Actress

Perhaps the DiCaprio of the Best Actress category, Amy Adams has had an unusually unfortunate time in her nomination fields, losing out in the past for outstanding performances in The Fighter, Doubt, and The Master on account of the strength of her competition. She provides the path of reality into the complex American Hustle, with her likable yet ruthless muse to Bale’s conman. Early favourite Gravity too appears to have faded in popularity, in particular the central performance of Sandra Bullock who really holds the hyper-reality of the film together. Cate Blanchett, however, has pulled out the role of a lifetime in the most recent effort from Woody Allen, Blue Jasmine: playing a New York socialite fallen from glory, Blanchett’s performance fluctuates from understatement, to despair, to full on crazy. Her face perfectly captures the subtleties of a wealth-induced mental illness, and she delivers the carefully crafted dialogue with Muhammed Ali-like punch. This one belongs to her.

Should Win: Cate Blanchett (Blue Jasmine)

Will Win: Cate Blanchett (Blue Jasmine)

Best Supporting Actor

The ‘supporting’ categories are always an interesting category: often pitting near-leading parts against brief cameos, it is often to state what exactly a ‘supporting role’ is. Funny man Jonah Hill here stars as Mr “Thanks for the Nomination but Not a Chance’ for his eccentric performance in The Wolf of Wall Street, while Captain Phillips star Barkhad Abdi plays ‘Never before seen newcomer’: the latter, we should completely discredit, following his perhaps surprising win in the BAFTAs last week. Bradley Cooper, in any other year, would be a strong favourite: his over-the-top appearance in American Hustle was more than impressive for a man who also starred in The Hangover Part III, standing out among an impressive cast. This year, its all about Michael Fassbender: mindblowing roles in Hunger and Shame (his previous collaborations with McQueen), and an absolute scene-stealer in the otherwise yawn-worthy Prometheus. His portrayal of Edwin Epps is one hundred percent evil, yet consistently watchable. Unfortunately, fears that Fassbender may be the new DiCaprio (with regards to Oscar-chasing), are backed by the unstoppable force of Jared Leto, the 30 Seconds to Mars front man, who donned a wig and dress and gave one of this year’s most likable performances in Dallas Buyers Club.  

Should Win: Michael Fassbender (12 Years A Slave)

Will Win: Jared Leto (Dallas Buyers Club)

Best Supporting Actress

Again, an interesting category, particularly given Anne Hathaway’s win last year for her brief, albeit unforgettable, cameo in Les Mis. Its nice to see Sally Hawkins get a look in here: the lovable Brit has stolen hearts back home for years now, and her successful transformation in Blue Jasmine is hugely commendable. Personal favourite in this category is octogenarian June Squibb, who’s performances in the past have been few and far between: her role as mouthy wife Kate in Nebraska is nothing short of comic genius, and you find yourself missing her whenever she’s absent from screen. Newcomer Lupita Nyongo is certainly a strong contender, standing her ground among the big names in 12 Years a Slave, and making for one of the most distressing roles of the year. Late-surger Jennifer Lawrence, however, is likely to make it two in a row (both in David O.Russell films) with her stand-out spoilt wife in American Hustle, more than holding her own against the ‘big boys’, and at her best when singing her heart out to ‘Live and Let Die’, a scene of pure enjoyment and belly laughing.

Should Win: June Squibb (Nebraska)

Will Win: Jennifer Lawrence (American Hustle)

Best of the Rest (Should Win/Will Win)

Original Screenplay: Blue Jasmine/American Hustle

Adapted Screenplay: Before Midnight/Philomena

Cinematography: Inside Llewyn Davis/ Gravity

Animated Feature: Frozen/ Frozen

Documentary Feature: The Act of Killing/ The Act of Killing

Quick Top 5: Most Shocking Snubs of 2014

5. Before Midnight – Best Picture

The previous two ignored all together, perhaps expecting a ‘Lord of the Rings’ style acknowledgement for this beautifully touching trilogy.

4. Robert Redford (All is Lost) – Best Actor

Not many actors could hold together a survival film on their own, let alone a 77 year old: Redford’s face says it all in this near dialogue-less film.

3. Daniel Bruhl (Rush) – Best Actor/Supporting Actor

Disappeared after Inglorious Basterds, Bruhl has come back on full form in this racing epic, as lovable baddie Niki Lauda opposite Chris Hemsworth.

2. Inside Llewyn Davis/The Coen Brothers – Best Picture/Director/Screenplay

The Coens’ 16^th film is top form as always, and has been shunned altogether, save for a lousy cinematography nomination.

1. Joaquin Phoenix (Her) – Best Actor

One of our generation’s finest actors, Phoenix is at the top of his game in Her: nominated for Best Picture, despite barely being able to exist without the central performance of J.P.