For many of us, our favourite cinema memories are of the cinemas of our childhood, because the old local cinemas, many of them (now lost) Art Deco mini-masterpieces, gave us all our first taste of the magic of cinema, the romance of the flickering screen. For others they are of the fleapit of more recent memory, where old, obscure and downright odd films screened to packed houses of like-minded cineastes. And for some, there are unique little treasures. This collection covers all three. I make no apologies for the length, because some things need to be indulged, especially on a blog – mostly – about film.
Sidney and Charlie Chaplin in The Tramp and The Dictator. But which is which?
I have a soft spot for undertakings that involve an intrepid writer or filmmaker recording at the last minute memories that would otherwise go forever unchronicled, whether they involve Mississippi juke joints or the trenches of the Somme.
The most heroic of these undertakings, I feel, are the ones where nobody else has yet realised the value of these anecdotes, where the author doggedly clings to a notion that, if these stories mean something to them, they will someday have the same effect on others. Matthew Sweet’s Shepperton Babylon is, in these terms, unmistakably heroic. Continue reading Mostly Film Book Club: Shepperton Babylon by Matthew Sweet→
Flight! The dream of man from when Daedalus first made wings for his son without first performing a full risk assessment.
Shooting things! Man’s other dream, sadly realised a lot earlier.
Despite the enduring appeal of these dreams, why is it that the once dominant genre of combat flight simulations now survives only because of obsessive Russians willing to work for peanuts? Continue reading Air Con: The Death of Flight Sims→
John Williams and somebody else: Would you buy a used soundtrack from these men?
The two most annoying experiences I’ve ever had in all my years of being a soundtrack fan both involved people who were supposed to be selling me the things. Continue reading Confessions of a soundtrack fan→
Mostly Filmwriters pause and reflect on the blink-and-you’ll-miss em parts that make the film work.
Kronsteen – From Russia With Love.
By Paul Duane
“Congratulations, sir. A brilliant coup.”
In a vast hall, a creepy, languid character resembling Ren the cartoon chihuahua plays chess against somebody who seems to be called Canada MacAdams. Kronsteen has only one word of dialogue here – “Check” – but it’s impossible to look away from him. See him manipulate chesspiece and cigarette in one hand with movements that hint he’s skilled in horrible varieties of martial arts. Observe the way his mouth opens impossibly wide to receive the cigarette, as if he was a deep-sea fish that somehow, eerily, smokes. Watch the impossibly slow movement of his head, then his eyes, as they register the fact that some lackey has brought him an unrequested glass of water. See the thought form as if in a bubble of noxious gas above his head – “he will suffer before I allow him to die” – while his eyes slide to the glass. And now look – who in the history of drinking has ever drunk like that, holding up the little paper napkin that sits under the glass as he drinks? The next shot explains why, but there doesn’t need to be an explanation – this is just part of the ineffable creepiness of Kronsteen. He probably eats his mashed potatoes with one single black obsidian chopstick. Reading the message on the napkin, he mops his fishlips, then – without warning – that cigarette is back, perched, languid. How the FUCK did he do that? Never mind, soon he’ll be dead. Continue reading Mostly Minor Characters→
WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE SERIES OF GAME OF THRONES
“What you suggest is treason.” “Only if we lose.”
Ten hours of TV from an 800-page book. Put like that, it doesn’t sound so arduous. Allowing for credits and an average episode length of 55 minutes, that’s about a page and a half per minute. Sure, you’d have to keep the pace up, but it’s doable, right? But adapting George RR Martin’s A Game of Thrones sounded like a daunting task. The epic scope, the long history, the complicated politics, the vast geography, the cast of hundreds. And yet, after a flawed but promising start, HBO’s first series of Game of Thrones turned out to be a remarkable achievement in storytelling and adaptation. A lot happens on a George RR Martin page, but it doesn’t feel like the book’s been filleted, and the result was a show that appealed to newcomers and aficionados alike. It’s kept expanding its world and scope, and it’s managed to do it without feeling rushed. So how did they pull it off? Continue reading GAME OF THRONES: THE VERDICT→
Earlier this year, with my film-making partner Robin Morgan, I completed my second feature film Life Classes, made in my spare time for £10,000. Twenty years ago that would have been something to truly brag about. When Robert Rodriguez made El Mariachi for $7,000 people were disbelieving. But with the availability of inexpensive video cameras and editing software, the price barrier to making a feature has melted away – now all you need is an idea and stamina. Lots of stamina.
From initial concept to finished film, Life Classes took five years. Somewhere in the middle of that was a 15-day shoot, which is where most of the money got spent. The first two and a half years comprised the writing and the planning; the last two and a half have been spent in an agonisingly slow post-production process.
Eight years previously we made a feature for £1,500. These Are Your Creams was set in Norfolk at the self-styled national pub quiz finals. It was the first film we’d made, and something we could have only done from a position of complete naivety about the vast scale of the task we were attempting. Continue reading Life Classes – Making a Low Budget Movie→
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