Thursday 19 May 2011

Edward Hardwicke

So I read today that actor Edward Hardwicke passed away of cancer at the age of 78. Alas, the copy of my newspaper was two days old, and I didn't notice. Stupid me. Excuse me while I scratch some dust out of my eye.

But I wanted to say, Edward Hardwicke wasn't my favourite Watson, but he truly was a wonderful one. The affection and warmth he brought to the role was will truly stay with me long after I've watched an episode. For example, that one moment in which he drapes a blanket over Jeremy Brett's Holmes in 'The Devil's Foot' was rather touching, Hardwicke bringing a quiet, calm, dignified concern and caring to Watson. Thank you for helping to dispel with the bumbling Watson, and giving us and him an intelligent, excellent character. Thank you for giving us this Watson, sir!

My comfort is thinking that Jeremy is waiting for him on the other side, with a smile and a hug for an old friend. Rest in peace.

Tuesday 10 May 2011

Thankfully, it isn't an actual name.

I had a dream today. Alas, the only words I could remember from it were: "We should ask someone who works in the sex industry!" "But who?" "Why, Sexington, of course!" Hmmm...

Monday 9 May 2011

Ha ha ha. What a story, Mark

I have an over-enthusiastic fancy for unintentionally bad movies. While of course I'm not in a total minority - the sold-out screenings of The Room at Prince Charles Cinema would indicate a healthy number of like-minded fans - I find that the predilection to watch these movies several times over, laughing and snorting until you can practically recite the lines in your sleep (all with me now: "You are tearing me APART, LISA!") to be less common than I thought.

Perhaps it's my naive enthusiasm that makes me think: how can anyone resist the charm of these bad movies? Some of my friends adamantly refuse to pay 10 pounds to watch The Room, incredulous at the thought that so many people would fork out that sum of money to watch something bad, as opposed to, say, a summer blockbuster. And in one case, the two friends I did bring didn't enjoy it at all, listlessly watching as Tommy Wiseau's pale white ass thrust up and down Lisa's belly-button, horrified, never understanding the comedy value behind it.

No disrespect meant, but they simply do not understand. While I can hope to one day convert them, I suspect the cult of the good-bad-movie is simply like a religion; not only in the sense that we blindly worship its creator and the work itself, but that not everyone will agree to it, nor understand it.

Nevertheless, I will not give up hope. In the off-chance I may convert a non-believer out there somewhere, here's a list of my favourite bad movies. Keep in mind: there are many bad movies out there. Chances are there's a handful of them out in your local cinema now.

What makes these movies special is that they fail in everything: cinematography, writing, plot, acting - you name it, they've fucked it up. Boringly bad movies are depressingly rampant, and just, well, boring. These ones I talk about are special: most are gems, hidden in the mud, languishing in obscurity until picked up and lovingly cherished by, well, people like me.

Another main criterion they need to fulfill is that the movie itself isn't in on the joke. They're charmingly inept, and never ironically so. That's why movies such as Rocky Horror Picture Show or Black Sheep don't hold quite the same charm for me. People like Claudio Fragasso, Tommy Wiseau, James Nguyen - they had a vision, they set out with admirable determination to fulfill it, failed miserably, and they still don't understand - and in that, there is the joke. The rest of us are privy to something the creators themselves aren't. These movies fail so hard, they bounce right back up into the stratosphere of awesome.

The Room

Sure, the story is utterly insipid compared to the rest of these movies, and it lacks the camp factor that makes the other good-bad-movies so entertaining - but The Room more than makes up for it by the sheer star power of its director-producer-writer-actor-walking corpse Tommy Wiseau.

Inexplicably wandering aimlessly from one scene right into another, garbling lines along the way in an accent that even Igor would be ashamed of, the walking mass of vampiric Silly-Putty captivates you every moment he is on-screen.

Of course, there are other classic fails, such as the movie being seemingly made-up of about twenty lines' worth of dialogue incessantly repeated ("O hai", "Don't worry about it", "Johnny/Mark is your/my best friend", "I don't want to talk about it", etc. etc.), plot points and characters that burst in from out-of-nowhere and leave just as abruptly, never to be mentioned again, and just plain bad film-making. Why film atop a perfectly decent rooftop when you could build a set of a fake rooftop, then green-screen the background over it later?

Classic Moment

The two 'o hai's here make up only about 1 percent of all the other 'o hai's that are present in the rest of the movie.


Troll 2

Of course, this really needs no introduction. Troll 2 is simply a classic. It's a phenomenon of its own. Dare I even say it is its own little religion, what with the eating-green-food and annual screenings ? Even the documentary about the film, Best Worst Movie, seems to show a few of the actors of Troll 2 as cult icons; George Hardy (who plays the father), upon turning up at a Troll 2 screening, is lovingly greeted by masses of fans, most of whom seem awe-struck by his mere presence.

With a hilariously tragic and troubled production (that's what you get when you have Italian people telling Americans how to act American, without speaking a word of English) that shows in every second of film, including golden nuggets such as Claudio Fragasso telling poor Michael Stephenson (Joshua Waits): 'No, no, don't act possessed. Too boring. You piss on food' for that one bizarre scene in which Joshua has to get his family to not eat the goblin's food, which would turn them into plants. Or really, just green goo. It's perfectly possible to pick literally any part of this movie and something would be going disastrously wrong. And it's oh-so-delicious. I wouldn't eat it, though. You'd probably turn into...

Classic Moment

...this.

Birdemic

A recently-made movie, and thus a new entry into my list. As internet reviewer Obscurus Lupa put it perfectly: "Birdemic is Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds as directed by Tommy Wiseau, except if Tommy Wiseau didn't know how to balance sound". Seriously, The Room's cinematography and Troll 2's special effects looks decent - dare I say even competent? - compared to Birdemic. It takes a special kind of genius like James Nguyen to screw up even portraying the act of fucking walking.

For once, I am struck speechless. While I can wax lyrical about The Room and Troll 2 incessantly, for the most part, Birdemic is so awe-inspiringly terrible that the movie really speaks for itself. I feel some shame in saying that even extremely inebriated, assisted by a toddler, and with Microsoft Movie Maker, I could still make a better movie than Birdemic. While I am glad for this movie's existence, the fact this movie even got some semblance of funding and actors willing to act in it is so extremely depressing that I couldn't help but weep at the same time.

Classic Moment

But hey, don't be morose! Cheer yourself up. Have a clip of people fighting off .GIF birds with coat-hangers.



Plan 9 From Outer Space

To be perfectly honest, I don't even find this one particularly horrible. Sure, it's spectacularly bad, but the nature of Plan 9's badness I find to be endearing. It is not so much a movie to be jeered and heckled at (unlike some of the other movies up there), but rather, lovingly jibed. I suppose it must be because I've watched too many Star Trek episodes, and am thus more forgiving of vintage special effects (or in this case, lack thereof) and ludicrous sci-fi premises. Also, Plan 9 From Outer Space seems to at least have a vaguely coherent storyline - if not an extremely laughable one - and one or two pieces of decent acting here and there, barring some people, and decent characterization.

Of course, there are certain lines that make you wonder whether Ed Wood was even reading his own script at the time ("Visits? But that would indicate visitors"), the flying saucers are mind-blowingly terrible, and in one scene the boom mic features prominently enough to warrant a credit as an extra.

Classic Moment

Since this movie's in the public domain, you can actually watch the whole thing on YouTube.

I'll point out the beginning narration as my favourite bit, though, with lines such as "We are all interested in the future, for that is where you and I will spend the rest of our lives" and "Future events such as these will affect you in the future". Who knew?



I know there are others I have yet to see (Manos: The Hands of Fate, here's looking at you), but that's the wonderful thing. There will always be more. And as evinced by Birdemic, they'll always be made. Every generation will have one. All I have to say to this is: keep 'em coming.

Thursday 5 May 2011

WOW.


It has come recently to my attention that the young James Brolin bears an eerily uncanny resemblance to the love of my life, Christian Bale.

Pictured above: Totally not the same person.

Seriously, he resembles this stranger more than he does his own son. Imagine if Josh Brolin looked more like his dad; then, The Prestige might have been filmed more easily! (Or not. I haven't watched that movie in ages. Just wanted to make a clever comment. Erm...)

This, of course, means I must now hunt down all of James Brolin's filmography. Also, if that is what Christian Bale will look like when he's older, I could certainly live with that.

Sunday 1 May 2011

Frankenstein


I would say that the price of the ticket was well-worth the copious amounts of Benedict-bum alone, but that would be purely stupid, because that would imply I even knew he'd be naked for the performance in the first place.

All I can say is: I now know what Benedict Cumberbatch looks like naked. There is no smugness in that, though; he was covered in makeup, foetal in appearance, struggling to his feet, limbs trembling, terrifying, uncomfortable, strange. And also, it was in front of a sold-out audience. Although I suppose I could at least take comfort in the fact my seat guaranteed merely a one-metre radius from him when he'd run down the stairs. Heh.

Could I say it is the mark of a great actor when someone like me, so utterly fangirlish, so utterly shallow, completely forgot about my unhealthy love for Cumberbatch because I was so engrossed in his performance as the monster itself? At some points in time, I did remember: I'm seeing him in person! Awesome! But for the most part, I was captivated by the story.

Cumberbatch truly shone in his role as Frankenstein's monster. As Frankenstein's monster, he was perfectly tragic; brutal, vindictive, bitter, yet never, never unsympathetic or hateful. A creature born pure into the world, only to be rejected by humanity, and hate just as he believes humans do. He plays the creature as similar to that of a child, beginning to grasp concepts of morality, never quite understanding them, attempting to adhere to them, but falling so astray. Even when he debases, you hate him not; rather, you hate what others have made him become. And yet, even then, you realize: in the same position, you would have done the same. You would have shunned him, beat him, cast him out. What does that make us, then?

I suppose it may be in part intentional direction from Danny Boyle, in part my over-analyzing nature, but I found Frankenstein to be so complex, so tragic, touching on many issues (yes, even parenting!). Even typical riddles - 'who is the man and who is the monster?' - were handled in ways that made me applaud internally. How ironic that Frankenstein admonishes his creation as nothing but a failed experiment, barely human, having no rights to anything, yet is later taught by the very creature what love, the most human of all emotions, is?

Money very well-spent. I'd try to calculate how many pounds I paid for every minute of witnessing Benedict's bum, but there certainly are limits to my fangirling.